Peace of Mind

Peace of mind is achieved one way only, by making peace with your own thoughts, which tend to do what they want anyway. You make peace with them by letting them be, by keeping your attention on their ebb and flow without offering any resistance. The only caveat is that you should have a strong anchor, some external reference that prevents you from being lost in your thoughts. This is like swimming in a fast flowing river, whilst keeping your head above water.


Are we rational?

Are human beings rational or irrational?

People certainly act as if they think they are rational, despite obvious evidence to the contrary. Why is this?

The answer perhaps, has something to do with thought. We use thought to come to conclusions about what is true, but fail to realize that outside of a laboratory these thought-made-truths are not reliable. Only when all things are controlled can we say anything with certainty, thus the scientist is rational in his work but irrational in his personal life. Rationality is like a finely weighted scale – very difficult to sustain in a turbulent world.

Each assumption we make through thought leads to error, for no matter how knowledgeable we are, there is always a limit to our experience. Thus we always look to the mistakes of the young, but miss the ones we are making now. Or, in our brilliance, introduce a new invention, only to find out later it has many drawbacks or unintended consequences on the environment. There is always a lag, or a remainder left over by the action of our thought, an error we are constantly trying to eliminate, but never succeeding, because we do not realize there is more to discover, and because we are impatient.

Only by becoming aware of our thoughts, and in coming to terms with their limitations can we possibly advance, but who now is willing to dethrone intellect and put simple awareness in its place?

Time goes slow

Time goes slow
When we look to the future,
Wishing we were anywhere but here.
Do we have the resources to fill the space,
Between what is and want we want –
Not by leaving this behind,
But by making now what we want?
It’s harder than you think to stay concentrated, keep yourself entertained,and not simply sleep through the greater part of life.
Try it.

Thoughts like stars

Thoughts like stars coalesce in the dark:
We do not see the air we breathe,
Like politicians taking credit or assigning blame
For the tide;
A program loop left running,
The lights are on but it’s not our home;
A game we play,
Without realising we’re players,
Until the meteor streaks through the empty sky
And it’s over.

The Sword

There are many parts of a life,
That make up the whole,
And many components of a man
That forge his character.
Chill winds and winter snow,
Or sun and sea,
Each can test a man and temper his steel,
The mix of the iron the bough
That breaks or bends,
In the storm of his making

I am completely overwhelmed to have won the perfect poet award for week 48. More than anything it wonderful to be read and have so many great comments. Here’s to all you readers and writers out there, and all the inspiration you pass around, like torches burning in the depths of night.

I would like to nominate: Braga


Words can hint at depths too deep to swim,
Gulfs too wide for fragile man,
Lives too numerous for this heart
To beat them all;
Winter’s breath of sorrow,
Spring’s new born youth,
The juice of life freshly pressed
On the page for easy reading.
And yet…the void of our incomprehension calls;
Tears for that so far beyond us,
Like a child’s first glimpse of love
In the eyes of passing strangers.

Being Human

These cliffs of wind borne memory,
Do carry me back to you now –
The warmth of your thighs
Keeps winter at bay,
Out there where frigid white-tips,
Scull a course remote
From fire’s warm light,
Where passion’s yearning
Keeps us human still

The Scales of Worth

House of mirrors this-
Glowing screen with drumbeat fingers,
Tapping of their own accord,
This life that’s not my own,
Nothing but this need to write
and be read-
Loved, revered, talked of
In blogs the other side of the world,
Across the mirrored hall of my mind,
This reflected light;
Refracted thoughts,
Nothing but a mote of dust,
To weigh the scales of worth.

Evil, no-evil

Night swallows day,
Sight fails in the inky shroud of black,
Knowledge withers and logic stumbles,
Imagination is tunneled down negative spirals;
A cave full of shadows,
Nothing is real but everything is a threat,
Leaking out on a world turned grey,
The core is poisoned,
The well springs empty,
Coughing, spluttering the seeker is lost,
A deep marsh of melancholy
For boots over-brimming with bitterness,
Hands seek to clutch and fists to lash
At the cruelty of life,
Suffocation – no air to breathe,
No possibilities in a world shrunk to a point.
Then comes the lightning strike-
Instant illumination!
If all is lost then only growth remains,
A new horizon spreading wings by the second,
Through parting clouds the moon shines bright,
A mirror to the soul long lost but un-tattered,
Sails filling up with sudden hope,
Lungs that breathe again like billows to the wind,
Hands no longer grasping round their own throat,
The noose falls away,
Evil recedes,
Thought and emotion tip back the scales of balance,
Imagination is freed and fingers stroke through long grass,
The mountain air clears the fog of war,
Above the stars, oh so many stars,
The spiral path loops ever upwards,
Day is born.

Western thought divides night from day, beautiful from ugly and good from evil. Evil is assigned to the dark; to that which we reject in society and ourselves. We lock away in jail those we judge to be evil, and lock away in our unconscious those parts of ourselves we are ashamed of. But any process of growth must shine the light of awareness into every dark nook and cranny, every shadowed corner full of the pale shapes of our shame and inadequacy. Many people spend their life trying to cover this up, to strengthen the mask, but always their nemesis is there to undo with wrong all they do with right.

In the East of the past evil was more rationally looked at as faulty thinking. This compassionate view saw the criminal as someone whose path through life has not taught him the lessons he needed to be good. His role models were men who tried to survive in any way they could, and so such a man he also became. The desperate, the weak, the afraid will always lash out. In this way we are no different from the dog that has been mistreated and mistrained by its owner. Chained to a lonely corner without discipline, without exercise, without love, it barks and snaps at any and all who pass by.

This does not mean we should open the prisons, that we should allow the street thug to attack us with impunity. To apply what we have learned about evil on others would be like the man who cast the stone before first freeing himself of sin. We must look within to explore the dark depths of our own minds, to bring light to the evil, the faulty thinking in ourselves. This is the only path that leads to stability, to strength, to a way of life that takes from its follower any need to lash out to prove himself to others. To fix the world, we must fix ourselves.


Injured in body,

Injured in mind,

The stream bubbles; blocked

By the suited men and their grey-stone dam.

It’s called working life and we’re all enslaved,

To their goddess of work.

But water will win out,

There, here, a crack!

And the water flows through;

New life; hidden, tunneling out caves

Of introspected meaning.

A whole new world,

For me to play in.

Thank you everyone that took part in the poetry rally,  I read some great inspirational stuff that will be sure to emerge from the melting pot of my mind in days and weeks to come. A special thanks for the perfect poet award.

My acceptance Haiku:

Many are the friends
I’ve never met, many streams
Leading to one sea

I’d like to nominate for further reading:


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