Nothing anywhere to hold on to

Though we may not know it
We are in the business of sifting randomness
Of taking this rampant, unruly life
And fishing for those tid-bits we like best
When an unlimited ocean stretches before us
To find that one solution
To an ever changing equation
A question that will not be still
But changes the questioner as soon as it is asked
And so this search goes on to exhaustion
To sleep, and on again
In desperation
In inspiration
Swimming for the north star
In the shifting surface
Of this restless sea
And nothing anywhere to hold on to


Suffering is

Suffering is:
Believing a thought
Engaging with the thought
Fighting the thought
Forgetting the image is just a thought

This moment

In all the possible worlds
In all he varied landscapes of our imagination
This moment in time is all that matters.
In it can be found all the magic and wonder of the universe
And all possibilities are manifest here
In the perfectly ordinary
Perfectly extraordinary
Unfolding of everyday life.
For if one day is not special
Then no day is
For the facts of our existence are unchanging:
That we live is a miracle
That we can appreciate it is a second miracle
And that we can communicate this to others a third
All we need do is not forget it.

The doer

One cannot live in isolation
often the watcher becomes the doer
feeling that his actions will reflect favourably
on his fate
forgetting that his destiny is a part of everything around him
of which he himself is just one small part
in this great peace can be found for the observer
but great pain done to the doer
and so through pain we return to wisdom
knowing always that we are condemned to do
without willing that it be so

Tasting Death

Through insight we gain the wisdom to know that we can never experience death.
For there is no sense of taste without taste-buds, no sights without eyes,
No sounds when the ears cease to function.


Wisdom is like a great fire.
Some warm themselves for a while before moving off.
Others, only a few, will find a fire lit in their own chests, and they will carry it with them wherever they go.


Age has taken strength,
Nothing has come to fill what’s left behind,
But silent weariness
and a lonely death…

But with wisdom;

A gift greater than silver hair
Is given to those with kind, wrinkled eyes,
And hands that have worked a lifetime,
To make living life worthwhile.


Try and succeed or try and fail,
Then try again another way…
If it is my fate to fail in all I love,
Then let me fail gloriously
So it should not matter where I end:
But only the places I have been;
Those I’ve loved and been loved in turn;
Along my uncompromising way


When all we want is beauty, health and permanence,
Why can no one afford to make it?

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

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