Place of knowing

There is no grace for the ill-equipped. The constancy of coming to speed, rolling off the hill by just that little, the mad scramble of the spirit that refuses to die. There is no stillness in this motion. Wouldn't be bearable - the fumble, the sensation, all spikes and bounce - if it weren't so funny, in it's unnecessariness. The beauty of balance hides in nooks and crannies, waiting to be discovered. Failure isn't an option. Failure is a friend. I embrace you. Let's run together. 

Scatter

 

I came across an odd, sprawling smile that stayed with me. The memory of it keeps playing back in my mind like a flash clip when least expected. I would like to imagine that if I curled up under a grand tree, I would wake with answers that eluded me. It would have to be a gnarled tree, lichen covered, centipedes crawling to a symphony of crickets. The portal comes home. A hundred year wall I touch. Peel upon peel I discover notions that correct themselves. Every wave of water cleans the rocks a little. Silicates. Shine in the dark even when no one's looking. 

 

 

 

Four years

This page lay dead.

Words swirled, little by little, inside my head, each year. 

This - foil to everything I actually wanted to write, lay locked.

The words had nowhere to go. 

Mornings I woke in clouds of verse,

Comebacks, framed 3 days too late

Inner monologue all dressed in colour

Flew down a river that didn't exist. 

You must write. Travelogues. Film Reviews. 

You must write. Recipes. Food Reviews. 

You must write. Form, structure, coherance.

Tripe. 

Words I can have here -

Thoughts as they flow. 

Possibilities

 

I prefer movies.

I prefer cats.

I prefer the oaks along the Warta.

I prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky.

I prefer myself liking people

to myself loving mankind.

I prefer keeping a needle and thread on hand, just in case.

I prefer the color green.

I prefer not to maintain

that reason is to blame for everything.

I prefer exceptions.

I prefer to leave early.

I prefer talking to doctors about something else.

I prefer the old fine-lined illustrations.

I prefer the absurdity of writing poems

to the absurdity of not writing poems.

I prefer, where love’s concerned, nonspecific anniversaries

that can be celebrated every day.

I prefer moralists

who promise me nothing.

I prefer cunning kindness to the over-trustful kind.

I prefer the earth in civvies.

I prefer conquered to conquering countries.

I prefer having some reservations.

I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.

I prefer Grimms’ fairy tales to the newspapers’ front pages.

I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.

I prefer dogs with uncropped tails.

I prefer light eyes, since mine are dark.

I prefer desk drawers.

I prefer many things that I haven’t mentioned here

to many things I’ve also left unsaid.

I prefer zeroes on the loose

to those lined up behind a cipher.

I prefer the time of insects to the time of stars.

I prefer to knock on wood.

I prefer not to ask how much longer and when.

I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility

that existence has its own reason for being.

 

 

Wislawa Szymborska

(July 2, 1923–February 1, 2012)

Source is here

Image source is here

 

With the hunted

Run.

Begin.

One foot after another.

No mind to it.

Chew gravel.

Feel the crunch.

Everything moving.

Houses. Trees. Cars. People.

No mind to it.

Pace up.

It's the wind, saying welcome.

 I am here.

Feel it.

Its the blood on the stove.

Never simmered enough.

Its cooler now.

Its the air rushing through.

One foot after another.

Killing the mind.

Eat the road.

Its falling behind.

Oh the manic thudding.

Something is giving away.

Push it. Push it.

No mind to it. Pace up.

Its the burn. Cold fire.

One foot after another.

Oh brute will.

Its a wild blur.

Its flying.

The beckoning.

Answer.

The engine is failing.

Push it. Push it.

Unrelenting.

Take off.

One foot after another.

The plane changes.

This ground, this wind, this air

is holding you.

Look up.

The sky is all yours.

 

 

Penned Sunday, Feb 22, 2015

Image source is here

 

Reminder

 

"I want to get more comfortable being uncomfortable.
I want to get more confident being uncertain.
I don't want to shrink back just because something isn't easy.
I want to push back, and make more room
in the area between I can't and I can.
Maybe that spot is called I will."

 

~ Kristin Armstrong ~

 

  Image source is here

  

Spring is here

Sell your cleverness and buy bewilderment.

Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world.

Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.

Be like the sun for grace and mercy.

Be like the night to cover others' faults.

Be like running water for generosity.

Be like death for rage and anger.

Be like the Earth for modesty.

Be as you appear.

Within tears, find hidden laughter,

seek treasures amid ruins,

sincere one.

 

~ Jalaluddin Rumi ~

 

 

Source is here

Image source is here

 

The Explorer's Manifesto



The Bermuda Triangle

Leave home

Disconnect, leave aside for a moment your history and your usual way of looking at things. When we aren't clinging to our own ideas and habits, we can learn about and gain greater enjoyment from everything again.

 

Enjoy the journey

Do not be obsessed with the final destination. Try to be open to the unpredictable, the unexpected and the accidental and to the things that happen along the way. Seize opportunities. Change your plans.

 

Pack light

Too much baggage weighs us down and slows us down. It is distracting and interferes with our relationship to our surroundings. Take what is appropriate. Do not make too much effort to protect yourself from every possible risk. It is almost always true that what you lose in comfort or security, you gain in freedom.

 

Go far

Extraordinary things happen at the limits of possibility. Every limit is the end of one thing and the beginning of another. Explore the frontier with your own efforts and possibilities.

 

Forget the time

Try not to plan the beginning and end of events. Let them take the time they need. Enjoy the natural passing of time, with its periodic succession of day and night. When you travel, it sometimes seems as though the time passes differently, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly.

 

Walk

Whenever you can, walk. When you walk, you can look at things more closely and carefully. Walking is an action, the speed of which is natural and comfortable. You take one step at a time.

Deviate from the route

Often the most valuable experiences are found on the least-traveled routes. Marked routes are simply those already traveled by other people. Challenge yourself to open a new path. Be daring, discover.

 

Go outside when it rains

Things are different, and appear different, than when the sun is shining.

 

Ask questions

Find out about the things you see along the way; how and why they are the way they are. Curiosity keeps us alert and in a state of constant change.

Try new flavors

The food and drink in each place has its own flavors, smells and colors. Sometimes they have been prepared using recipes passed down through generations. Try them. Give them an opportunity to surprise you.

 

Do not stop

Movement keeps us alive and new experiences nourish us. Move about, do not stop. When you change to someplace different, new possibilities open up.

 

Stop

Pauses are just as important as movement. Stop and breathe deeply. Look. Listen. Take a break. There are times when there is nothing better than a siesta, contemplation of the landscape or reading a book in the shade of a tree.

 

Talk with people

There is nothing like conversation for getting to know other people. Talk with the local people. Tell them about where you are from, share your ideas and beliefs. Listen. Challenge your prejudices.

Listen to stories about the place

The present is enriched and better understood by hearing about the past. Listening to stories can also be surprising and fun.

Protect nature

Make sure that your journey through each place leaves no trace for those who come after you. Care for nature. Untouched places are an increasingly scarce treasure.

-
Source is here
Image Source is here

Crunch

Jardin de Luxembourg, Paris. October 2010.

Did they die verse unwritten or did they refuse to have themselves strait-jacketed into form, into structure, how much of a leaf do you truly admire outside the canopy of the tree, or do you find verse in its free fall, its cascade into the heap that gets swept away, billowing into playful clouds and then melt into dust, until the next season of appearance, an appointment you are never fully aware of, that chances itself upon you, like that half glimmering side of the suncatcher that you happen to pass by, that for a fraction of a moment glints your eye, and you think what was that sparkle of light, the sun? It was attention that thing we fall short of, like the beauty we reflect upon in hindsight, like the cool shade of the canopy of the tree, and never the leaf or its veins in itself, it is the legion of recollections that flood in, billowing into playful clouds and then melt into dust.

(Penned Nov 9, 2013)

Small talk

Bobs in own's keg of brine. Here a regret, there a lost love, a piece

of pride chewed on, unraveling string of childhood self, a life of

kites and bicycles, like mirror shards, a broken top, favourite gum,

page torn off a book, yellowing letters, all pickled bits, cast away

one memory at a time.

A packed room, chink of ice to crystal, only the finest trend in the

luxe will do, all deep words and hollow eyes, darting slow and

cursive, a shadow in the now, yes it gets as interesting, as a fly on

a sugar cube, or an empty subway with its twinkling lights at

midnight.

Oh the allure, swagger, free association, entices as much as an onion

shell, whirling to the breeze. Human pickle, bottled in your skin, you

are stacked on shelves by the dozens.

A relic maybe. Prized? A matter of opinion. Vintage? There're better

specimens in museums of the world.