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And why has it happened?

I Loved him once that little boy
& all his joyessness
in the new
but he never quite knew..

Knew that life would deal the blow
a crashing of the axe
like a hard timber crack
the cut-down forest
of humanities
emptyness…

The swirling whirlpool of beautiful waters,
The sweeping wing tips of a birds
graceful landing,
The rising steam
of frost covered land born
again
under its solar array.

Why is Love such a fragile thing
why is it cruel
and kind
why does it sing?
to awaken the vulnerable heart?

And then cut you down
down, down, down
whilst you weren’t really paying attention,
just walking ’round town.

It’s the remorse that got you
your emotional state
It’s the drugs that got you
your discipline second rate
It’s your heart that got you
you’re feeling again
Stop it immediately…
nobody wants to hear your strain.

Pay attention to today
so it doesn’t cut you down..
Pay attention to Love
so it doesn’t matyr you with a crown
Pay attention to the rising steam
off the wing tips of birds in the morning sun..

What is today?
it’s the present, and the only one.

in the slush bucket of Love…

all alone,
is it true?
doubtful, in the new e-commerce blue…
SIGINT is all over you…

The socialist calling?
the socio…
economic…
democratic(?) state…
but frankly I don’t give a…
a flying…
toss,
where the bludgers rate…
or for the protestant work ethic…
or in any…
of the simpleton’s idealist dreams…

A 40 hour week,
or a 60 hour week,
for over 25 years has called,
subsequent and present realism,
gives little sympathy,
by me,
for those who won’t cope…
including me…

Paid my bills,
4 times over, with tax on the top,
in two countries…
80 hour weeks, contracting, waiting for the chop…
and giving gifts,
as in,
significant multiples of my time,
cost me three months to earn it,
and its blown on a dime…

Apparently life is easy…
to and by those who…
have God’s ear…
or…
are falsely in ignorant cheer…
bloody Pigs Ear…

but to the rest of us…
we battle in the everyday fuss,
of trying to front-up in Universal Love,
of patiently giving of Love, hard earn’t.

Trying..
to live it,
do it,
earn the cash,
enjoy it, share it,
or give it away…

With Love and,
affection…

And get shafted anyway…

Dear cousin Tony thank you for all your gifts, none more so than this song…

When one gets a glimpse of its feeling and meaning it’s one of the greatest gifts one could receive from another…

And thank you to Tonia and my family & friends… for your patience and love… I would not have made it thus far without you…

“Sisters of Mercy”
by Leonard Cohen
[lyrics] [youtube]

Thank you.

French Cross by iJohn

What’s the reason?
your reason?
for doing it?
for doing anything?

Out of pleasure?
Do you then find?..
yourself tied up in knots,
Entwined in your own ego?
Narcissism?
You… bad…
bad, bad boy,
don’t you understand that you must…
sacrifice yourself,
on the alter,
of Christs legend…
you’ll never measure up…
of course,
so just give up…

Do…
Out of duty?
Have you found, or felt?
Knots in your stomach,
in the knowledge of the dishonour…
of the perpetually fraudulent propaganda?
Can’t bring yourself to ‘buy-in’?
to a 500 hundred year old legend…
of the goodness of the British Empire’s upper class?
Who exploited all available people,
in creating their ‘wealth’.
Through bloody-minded profit motives,
corrupted all cultures touched,
and excused it as ‘civilising influences’.
But this is your ‘duty’!
‘Laddy’!
There’s the rallying cry…
Ready? to step up to that ‘idealist plate’?..

or do you try to ‘Do’ in…
Universal Love?
In a non-violent principled stand?
And when you are spat in the face?
and
when you are confronted with…
Obscenity, do you digress, or protest?
Or, find yourself standing…
Centrally,
cheering,
in the ‘jack-booted’ ranks…
of your consumerist society,
polluting the planet, and killing…
any ‘pest’ who steps in your path…
Still committed to a non-violent path?
Still measure up?
To your own principles?

Truth is the hardest of task-masters.
She calls you on your instincts,
and you might shy away…
He calls on your passion,
and you may lay dead in your emotion…
They call on your integrity,
and you may find you have none…

I shall reach
this state
of
Les
Miserable
if I try
really hard…

but…
happiness
is easier
less face muscles
to exercise
‘n’
all that

as the world
impresses
impressionism upon me
I find myself happy…
bugger…
:)

Loud local pub music
the justified
high note,
a screaming,
and Irish whistle and drum-beat
that cover…
all life is a cover…
you are covering…
what?

He poises quietly
beautifully arranged hands
fingers pointed
thumb and forefinger
thoughtfully arranged

sitting quietly
I reflect…
my father wasn’t a physicist…
My father was,
well..
my father…
for-ever loving
what luck…
what a head fuck…

Every one is trying to bum me out…
Eels…
it’s all queer…
visited Avesbury today,
stone circle overwhelming,
Winchester Cathedral yesterday,
this is definitely a UK family right…
but will the Stallion be a Mare…

I don’t know…
But I feel universal Love…
we shared…

Hands raised quietly…
and a circling of, and thumb
and of fore-finger
in poise…

My Buddha,
bring me…
truth…
bring me,
Home.

Well, a sunny day in ‘Narfawlk’…

Not Norfolk, but can recommend catching Northfork the film if you get a chance – nice, and suitably quirky…

photo: doublefeaturepodcast

This is great… Roos and Wallabies are pretty unhinged sometimes anyway,  so what they’d be like smacked out on opium is a truly pleasurable thing to contemplate :)

thanks to monkeyc.net for photo
and quoting some Henry Lawson along with it…

Australia’s a big country an’ Freedom’s humping bluey
An’ Freedom’s on the Wallaby
Oh don’t you hear her cooey
She’s just begun to boomerang she’ll knock the tyrants silly
She’s going to light another fire and boil another billy

Henry Lawson – Freedom on the Wallaby

If you’re into solar passive design then this sun motion simulator from the Astronomy Labs at the University of Nebraska Lincoln is just the ‘ducks guts’…

thanks to foxxyz for photo

slice of dead cows bum
in summer barbeque breeze
mine medium rare please

couldn’t resist really…
needed excuse to use photo…
which isn’t entirely congruent of course…
as roast is brisket whereas haiku refers to topside, silverside or rump… :P

Cheek to cheek
mooching
and softness
eyes half closed
sharing
private thoughts
on brief reunions…

Exotic dance
and secret song
echoes in their ears
sharing
a chosen bonding
of a few brief years…

Apart for
the most part
solitary & travelling
for thousands of miles
coming back
occasionally
to touch down
on jointly shared Isles…

Looking for truth
making a home
evidence to be
sometimes wide
of the compass mark
then missing
of sharing
and returning to sea
alone…

A swirling and circling
storm clouds threatening
head down
and wings out
natures perfect creation
a survivor…
Wind whipping up a tremendous fuss…

Solitude a sharing
on wing
with untethered seas
battered and buffeted
gales angry
a loss of bearing
no reason to provoke doubt
Love seemingly lost
but on truth forever devout
in sharing…

Rolling waves
white caps
sky clearing
a calming
and homeward bound
to sharing…

The sea
you see
is uncensored
and cannot be
anything other than the sea
truthfully…

And a Love shared
can never
be
a loss…

for the Wandering Albatross…

thanks:
- Mum for the postcard
- angela7dreams for the image ‘a pair of albatross‘

Streaking cirrus
on blue and
light orange sky
empty
another day goes by.

Another day
spring already weaning
flowers beautiful
colourful
scented
looking for meaning.

Meaning for writing
papyrus electronique
seems like there’s nobody in here
and no reason
no reason to speak.

But speak we do often
too often by far
trouble seeing truth nowadays
silence might be best
when elbow’s on the bar.

Bar raised too steep?
integrity
a castle keep?
honesty with self
getting too deep?
where’s that fluffy cloud
on which to forever sleep?

On river flowing,
next bend,
next turn,
flowers spilling off,
a tree in full spring flight.

Loud music,
loud emotions,
feel like you can’t turn a trick,
butter on toast,
egg yolk on the floor,
just ask anyone,
they’ll show you the door.

Another chord you let,
go by,
reverberates,
in your brain.
Love’s not designed,
to inflict pain.

Fox on the trail,
pheasants in the field,
all truth, blessing…
all Love,
Cosmos has revealed?

Walking on the thin ice,
tentative,
and so you should be,
Love is not,
a shopping spree.

Stepping boldly,
up to the plate,
rush it up,
only so many minutes,
no time to wait,
quickly,
do it,
mate.

Or, sit stately, alone,
with deep
integrity,
and dark
honesty?
Too scarey?
An unavoidable,
interconnected truth,
fully invested,
in the uncomfortable,
full volume,
immersion in reality?

Love thy neighbour,
Love thy friend,
Love thy enemy.

Love thy self.

Welcome to the complicated…
the simple elegance,
of the obvious,
enjoy,
the beauty of,
the ‘real’ world,
which you and yours,
are concurrently sharing,
with thousands of generations of,
people who are,
just as beautiful…
As you.