place

Tags

2014, 7*, capitalism, child, doing, doubt, earth, energy, finding, gentleness, groundlessness, hair, hands, hope, leading, letting go, London, lurch, market, placement, precision, seeing, shift, sound, streets, thinking, vindication, waves, weight

                      not seeing
                      the energy
                      shift and wave
                      underneath

                      I flex in all the
                      wrong places to
                      ground my own
                      earth to stand

                      on, there, there
                      is the precision
                      but then I easily
                      despise my hope

                      and put on weight
                      far too quick to
                      judge and lurch
                      toward vindication

                      it’s just ‘thinking’
                      that makes it so
                      a toddler’s head
                      chatters by your side

                      just let them all be
                      let their bouncing hair
                      be gentleness to the
                      palm of the hand but

                      don’t take them by
                      the hand to lead them
                      through the streets
                      of London, there’s

                      nothing to find in found
                      and always there are
                      smiling deals to make,
                      letting go, in the market

                      place

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

capitalism wormhole: miss / ad / venture – poewieview #22
child wormhole: municipal garden
doing wormhole: holiday
groundlessness wormhole: the quiet whale
hair wormhole: and I lose sight of her into memory
hands wormhole: twilight / and parasols down / within minutes
letting go wormhole: woman / has worked in the gym / got a build
London wormhole: landscape of cloud over London / with differing depths of grey
seeing & thinking wormhole: time
sound wormhole: Tara mantras
streets wormhole: ‘charcoal grey-slate sky …’
vindication wormhole: the writing’s on the wall
waves wormhole: concordance

 

Advertisement

the writing’s on the wall

Tags

2012, beauty, being, blindness, breath, creativity, doing, groundlessness, hope, Howl, identity, inertia, letting go, looking, memory, pen, penance, pointlessness, powerlessness, publishing, seeing, self-doubt, sitting, superhero, talking to myself, universe, vindication, walls, waltz, writing

 

 

 

                                the writing’s on the wall

                                I can be becoming lost for weeks
                                unable to release, foiled in creativity
                                even by my breath; unable to waltz

                                or twirl about as I promise myself
                                held by the very wall that materialises
                                precisely where I thought to move

                                again; because there is something
                                closer than my retinas which I cannot see,
                I cannot see

                                because I am hanging on to a
                                last shred of dignity that makes me
                                blind that I cannot see the walls

                                at my toe before I swing my
                                foot to kick and I cannot see the walls
                                in my cranium before I blink

                                              so
                                              little
                                              beauty

                                to stumble over, stood in inertia
                                no matter how busy I become
                                no matter how much I do

                                without looking; (it’s the writing
                                (no it’s the tidal lunge for vindication,
                                 (no it’s the reminder, the reinforcement

                                  that I am powerless))) in a pointless universe
                                in which I still want to be the hero
                                brandishing the latest sheaf of sublimity

                                (even if not on the rooftops waving
                                 my genitals – see, see) so what do I do,
                                do I stop it all now and snap out of it

                                do I make myself sit for hours of
                                balming penance, do I slap my wrists
                                for wanting to publish; no, Mark,

                                              here’s a pen and
                                              here’s the line and
                                              here’s the wall to write on

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

beauty & being & doing wormhole: while walking
breath wormhole: miss / ad / venture – poewieview #22
creativity & walls wormhole: and that’s where I are
groundlessness wormhole: Dear Sir/Madam,
identity wormhole: 1968
letting go wormhole: tong len / the inauguration of another – timely – butter fly effect / taking and giving
looking & writing wormhole: impressionism
pointlessness wormhole: development
publishing wormhole: time proceeds
seeing wormhole: Doctor Strange I – the trashcan tilted the better to see now the street
sitting wormhole: well,
superhero wormhole: no point
talking to myself wormhole: dream career // groggy
vindication woormhole: thy will be done

 

thy will be done

Tags

2013, anxiety, flow, identity, loneliness, myth, relief, vindication

 

 

 

                                     thy will be done

                                     not in the anxious
                                     lonely maintenance
                                     of my own knight
                                     of vindication but
                                     in the relief and
                                     flow of – politely –
                                     letting go the myth

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

anxiety wormhole: that comicbookshop in dreams,
identity wormhole: CV
loneliness wormhole: my life / of others
vindication wormhole: practice

 

practice

Tags

2013, awareness, doing, emptiness, practice, self-love, simplicity, tragedy, vindication

 

 

 

                                              practice

                                to simply
                do things, simple things,
                                simply

                                by touching the vindication
                                              the betrayal
                                the plaint the tragedy
                as rainbow and see-through as they may be –
                                there

                each one
                                of them both
                                              pretty and
                                                              nothing

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

awareness wormhole: sitting
doing wormhole: CV
emptiness wormhole: nothing // matters
practice wormhole: just saying, is all V: // … systematic and consistent disempowerment
vindication wormhole: prayer to my self

 

prayer to my self

Tags

2010, adjustment, anger, breath, care, career, dedication, discovery, dream, injustice, legacy, letting go, life, light, listening, moon, others, prayer, reputation, self, space, talking to myself, tragedy, vindication, work

 

 

 

                                prayer to my self

                                I had my stab at life – obdurate and rarefied –
                                I glimpsed the moon and captured its light
                                but nobody wanted it

                                let the tragedy go, let the injustice go
                                let the anger and indignation go
                                they are not the self

                                let the devastating ripostes before whole crowds go
                                let the overlooking and insignificance go
                                they are not the self

                                let the secret work and its Discovery – the Legacy – go
                                let the live-on-with-open-wounds-and-dejection go
                                let the career and the reputation go
                                they are all not the self

                                let there be the space from where all of this came
                                to let go and adjust, let there be the breath for new dreams
                                and the listening to declare, the pause for resolution
                                and the care to let go

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

breath wormhole: the Conqueror
career wormhole: the stance of Buscema // qualitatively
dedication wormhole: dedication
dream wormhole: dream 260713
letting go wormhole: lo
life wormhole: the endless acts of life
light wormhole: of a sudden // all the time
listening & talking to myself wormhole: the / very gradual art of sitting
moon wormhole: up here
others wormhole: good looking
space wormhole: fall
vindication wormhole: multifarious: the Dark Knight Returns (1986)
work wormhole: I do

 

multifarious: the Dark Knight Returns (1986)

Tags

1930s, 2014, 9*, age, Allen Ginsberg, architecture, avenue, Batman, being, birds, buildings, choice, city, collective unconscious, consumerism, death, doing, doors, earrings, emptiness, faces, Frank Miller, giving, grey, Have, identity, Joker, letting go, life, lightning, lime, magazine, mother of pearl, night, olive, option, red, Shantideva, silhouette, sky, society, sound, space, speech, statue, steam, Superman, talking, talking to myself, thunder, topaz, tv, vindication, walls, wisdom

 

The Dark Knight Returns (1986); writer: Frank Miller; artist: Frank Miller & Lynn Varley

 

 

 

                earrings: left then right
                static square and upright obelisk

                steam across every avenue
                before the silhouette architecture with grizzly coat of ornamentation

                earrings: lime-olive horizontal
                and block full-stop

                the rabbit-chase fall below
                is sudden guttural and city-wide

RMMBL
                ‘a flash of lightning in the dark of night’*
                                                                                 KRAKK

                all the effortless intelligence beyond the door
                beyond the wall        with bat-darts

                earrings: mother of pearl
                pause and equals

and there he is jumping taller than a building across the only spaces left now:
                the sky and the ante-room before preconception (a cowardly and superstitious lot)

                the spires stand clean
                in the grey-wash sky

                where gothic statues acknowledge
                the impossible pinion and swing

                “… I have to know”**
                and stone manes splay when he sees “a reflection”***

                earrings: topaz pennies
                one and three-dangling

                and while the gently-cornered squares
                talk the Worm the Bluff and the Dribble

                others take the space down in the dump
                where a position cannot be found

                where the position cannot be resisted
                no matter how young you are

                no matter how strong you are in the realistic world
                in all the floorboard rooms the TVs and magazines

                stack positions on shelves and in refrigerators
                and in wrappers multifarious in choice and option

                any space here
                would make everything all the more ugly

                no
                no

                the move needs to come from
space of no choice and it can never be obvious it can never be choice

                Bat-signal
                bright on the side of Moloch****

                stone birds from the 1930s
                earrings: gone

                ah, but the world grows [not] up
                rather it folds over itself and regenerates

                with billowed ruffles
                atop old buildings

                “so many smiles / so many faces / all the same”*****
                “every year they grow smaller”******

                earrings: vampyre’s teeth soaked
                serious faces        all the same

                when you break too many of the important rules
                you’ve acted to define yourself vindicated

                you haven’t given    anything
                it doesn’t count

                death happens by itself without design
                all you have to do is let it all go –

                the purpose and the self –
                and you could live clean for a hundred years

 

* Bodhisattvacharyavatara I, 5, Shantideva (translated Stephen Batchelor): ‘Just as a flash of lightning on a dark, cloudy night / For an instant brightly illuminates all, / Likewise in this world, through the might of Buddha, / A wholesome thought rarely and briefly appears’
** Book I, P.43 & 45
*** Book I, P.47
**** Howl
***** Book III, P.25
****** Book III, P.25

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

Allen Ginsberg wormhole: poetry
architecture wormhole: stranger / if we met
Batman wormhole: tag cloud poem III – the journey to BEING and back again
being & vindication wormhole: heavy load
birds & talking wormhole: sunny day
buildings wormhole: the edges of my reach
city wormhole: tag cloud poem IV – C
death & life & night & sky wormhole: … sshhh
doing wormhole: the meaning is the moment all day long
doors wormhole: walking / right into the side of the very door left / open for me
emptiness & space wormhole: wha’
faces wormhole: quest in brown
giving wormhole: practise what you doing / give what you having / breathe what you remember
grey & lime & olive wormhole: Hever
Have wormhole: shared anxiety
identity wormhole: prologue
letting go & talking to myself wormhole: … and
lightning wormhole: jagged panel
red wormhole: that’s me / in the corner that’s me in the spot light / losing my religion*
Shantideva wormhole: walking
silhouette wormhole: clouds
society wormhole: the sounds the difficulty and the long long strands of liquorice
sound wormhole: someone called Frank
speech wormhole: mlewisredford introductory complete life audit confessional
Superman wormhole: inverse superhero
tv wormhole: Love Me Do
walls wormhole: Knapps

 

heavy load

Tags

2012, 4*, being, breathing, identity, publishing, seeing, skandhas, vindication, writing

 

 

 

                           and it is the publishing which is
                           swallowing my sight to see

                           and swallowing my breath to be
                           and keeping me staring at the same parts
                           of the same room absently
                           and keeping the entries stalled and excused
                           and the page blank with feint ruled lines

                           the publishing which I hope would vindicate me
                           and lighten this heavy load

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

being wormhole: exercise
breathing wormhole: walking / right into the side of the very door left / open for me
identity & publishing wormhole: and …
seeing wormhole: need
vindication wormhole: chump

 

chump

Tags

2011, 3*, acceptance, identity, living, realisation, vindication

 

 

 

                                any sense of
                                vindication
                                and there I am
                                suckered like
                                a chump with
                                plans for the
                                world when
                                all I have is
                                one step
                                aside

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

acceptance wormhole: a bit painful this
identity wormhole: waiting
living wormhole: Moebius strip
realisation wormhole: twenty five / year career
vindication wormhole: poessay V: // writing / as practice while / writing

 

the / pyrrhic / play

Tags

2011, 5*, being, breathing, compromise, doing, game, growth, living, naïveté, obligation, pointlessness, sitting, society, talking to myself, thinking, vindication

 

 

 

                      the
                      pyrrhic
                      play

            to be a Big Player is to play
                      a very complicated game
                                selflessly-
                                selfishly
            to know how the game works
                      know when to relinquish my view
                                to obtain the compromise
            to get what I want (as
                      pursuit of the Greater Good)        the Ends

                                                      … chorus?

                      however

            I want to pursue my own self-
                      lessness I want to sit and gain
                                nothing
            but then I become fatally exposed
                      when I try to put some relief
                                found inside myself
                                ‘out there’ persuasive in the world
            and then it becomes part of the Game
                      which I- do-not-want-to-but-have-obliged-myself
                                to Play

                                … chorus?

            my activity should come out of clear naïve response –
                      a totally un-beguiled emptiness –
                                not my success of finding the point
            not my vindication not my self
                      (because then when I am necessarily ignored
                                I become a living death)

            … chorus: don’t
                      don’t ever Play the Game just breathe
            breathe and step
                      one square at a time
                                while the rest of the Game
                                          plays itself

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

being & doing & living & naïveté & talking to myself wormhole: inexorable       naïveté
breathing wormhole: wriving
compromise wormhole: the path / no echo
game wormhole: we play a game
obligation wormhole: p                        o                   i                             n                                                   t                            l                          e                                 s   s                                          n                                                         e                   s                                                                                                  s               all around
pointlessness wormhole: anxiety
sitting wormhole: the sea plant
society wormhole: holiday
thinking wormhole: anatta
vindication wormhole: poessay V: // writing / as practice while / writing

 

poessay V: // writing / as practice while / writing

Tags

2012, 8*, acceptance, awareness, block, breathing, distraction, growth, identity, inclusion, lifetimes, metaphor, poessay, sitting, time, vindication, writing

 

 

 

                                              poessay V:

                                              writing
                                   as practice while
                                      writing

          I cannot always find
                      the Right Moment to write
          I cannot always find
                      the groove enough to breathe
          usually because I am not awareing
                      something within me
                      circulating as if blood of its own
                      while I am still chasing
                                   some dream of vindication

          just sitting has taught me so far
                      that it is difficult to just sit
                      because of the whole chapters
                      of backstory and echo
                      that stain the mind blind
                      of the most infant awareness of being
          and the practice of just sitting
                      is to antidote the stain
                      by saturating the awareness
                      through each and every chapter paragraph
                                   word letter and breath

          when stuck in writing –
                      pen poised stare off pick head
                      until I manually bring my pen
                                   back onto line –
          instead I should aware the vagueries as they occur
                      and widen my writing to include them
                      and thereby resolve them
                                   as I write …

                      there
          after the last ‘write’        (… no, no that would be too obvious …)
                      I spent a whole career
                      with the litany of hurt
                      in long scrolls of account
                                   so far away
                      from what I was writing
                      so intent on the vindication
                      that I didn’t see it build up
                      until it burst into the room
                      and took my ink away
          if I was alert I would have included it with wide metaphor
                      to become the point I was making
                      or rather widened the point
                      to include the true intent that I
                      hadn’t yet fully realised

          writing words in their succession
          is like being aware while sitting
                                   in that
          the words widen to include the vagueries as the awareness does too
          but neither the awareness nor the writing
                                   go with
                                   the vagueries
                      they just watch them

                      in both practices
          I need to let go the investment and desperation
          of my tin-pot identities and insistences
          and fling my arms wide to embrace them all
                      each and every one

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

acceptance & lifetimes wormhole: slipstream
awareness & breathing wormholes: on holiday
[writer’s] block & vindication wormholes: the writing’s / on the wall
identity wormhole: now
poessay wormhole: poessay IV
sitting wormhole: ‘I am a secret / superhero …’
time wormhole: Sunday
vindication & writing wormhole: the writing’s / on the wall