Shards of a tea cup.
My hand trembled in the night.
Outside the ice melts.
Tag: poem
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Mindfulness Tea Cup (Poem)
Steam rises from the tea.
Consider these things.
The tea did not brew itself.
The tea did not magically appear in the cup.
The tea will not float on the air to be sipped.
I have to act for these to happen.
Let me do so in a mindful manner.
That I might enter fully this moment in time.
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A Working Dog (Poem)
My dog gave proof that she is more
Than the pretty construct in my mind
And a wonderful companion.
She is teeth and claws and a fierce heart.
She will strike with deadly force
And kill to defend to our home.
She remembers that she is related to wolves,
Even though I did not.
She is a working dog,
And her talents are myriad and great.
I am so grateful to have her in my life.
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A Path And A Rock (Poem)
Walking a path, I stumble over a rock in the way.
It reminds me to be more aware,
Look downwards as well as ahead,
To pause and give this my attention.
How so then
Does this continue to happen?
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Emptiness Tea Cup (Poem)
Steam rises from the tea.
Consider these things.
The cup which contains the tea
Has already been shattered.
The tea itself has been consumed.
Gate gate paragate
Parasamgate bodhi svaha.
“Gone, gone, gone beyond,
Gone altogether beyond,
Oh, what an awakening! All hail!”
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End Of The Year (Poem)
How did I number my days and nights this year past?
They sometimes seem to stretch so agonizingly into forever
Yet indeed they flee so razor-sharp fast.
I have found myself lost in memories , immersed in songs,
Even given to dancing, and tried to help right some wrongs.
Like all , I’m weighed in the balance, the scales will be set.
I’ll not ask nor expect mercy. Just Accept what I get.
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Sunday Evening
This is the hard time.
The time when I think about my friends.
Some drink, smoke or do other more questionable things.
I don’t have any such refuge.
I face this onslaught by holding on as I can
(By letting go of holding on).
I pace the floors, consider making a sound but no,
And breathe into the pain.
Step; inhale; step; exhale….
I remind myself when I pause
The worst that could happen would be the best outcome.
Eventually, thankfully, this WILL end.
One way or another. Nothing lasts forever.
Walk; breathe; walk; breathe.
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Grief-root
This grief twists around me,
A primordial root connected to the fundamental wailing
Pulled from the the soul of the earth.
My tears are the salt of the sea and the stream of the rain;
They are water itself and life-
Bitter and burning and flow.
I scream so loud it swallows the universe.
My laments echo down time’s corridors
Like fell black-winged horses running a doomed apocalyptic race.
My words are forever etched on the very pillars of creation itself.
I am done.
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Brisance (Poem)
Three words, one death.
A shattered world.
It revealed the wreckage
And ruination of lives
That always comprised the kaleidoscope base
That upheld the white edifice of power.
Time for that fraudulent wedding cake to be seen
As filled with mold and baked with hate.
Throw it out into the trash where it belongs.
Let it burn away.
We need real food that feeds Black people.
Brown people. First Nations. White people.
No more useless fake white cake.
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End Of The Day (Poem)
There is no magic here.
No-one will come to save you
With a wave of their wand
Or with fiery breath and beating wings.
Not in this poem.
You’ll have to save yourself,
And however you do that is up to you.
I write these days of desiccation and dearth,
With arid phrase and acrid wit.
Seek no comfort;
I have none to offer.
Other than: I am here.
The road not taken…..