In colony

the dream is eons long
we have been entwined
you and I
since forever

on certain days
I ache to withhold my truth
to show you how it feels
to listen to endless lies

on other days
I tumble to the floor and bounce
to show you how it looks
to act from the real and present

no bargains can be struck
in the market for shadows

that mind’s light is so full
it throws it’s own shade
to all that might detract
from it’s righteous narrative

your hand-me-down economy
avoids all mention of entropy

the dream is eons long
you know
the one where I play
the swiss-army-knife version
of a scapegoat
and you deny everything

on certain days
we see you hurling platitudes
while dismantling ecosystems
and poking holes in rainbows
again

on other days
we see you acting out our own shadow-selves
and then we fall about laughing
at your feeble attempts
to direct the wind

*

What’s with all the questions?

Answering questions is not my forte.

red question mark

The big red question button, similar in function to the all-purpose doomsday button

Question me and you will get a response that is almost never what is expected, particularly if you’re wanting me to ease your doubts.

I’ve observed and pondered this quirk in my behaviour for a long time now and these days I can’t quite recall whether I’ve always been this way or it just kind of crept up on me one day – while I was dreaming.

I love to learn – new things, old things, patterns and disruptions, flows and cycles. Life is so endlessly intriguing and engaging through my eyes that it seems impossible for me to imagine any other way of being. So I answer questions with an almost unconscious intent of setting up the conditions for a learning experience, preferably involving laughter, smiles or little nods of recognition that we humans are all, essentially, in the same boat.

It is my heartfelt wish, from the centre of all that I am, to share the joy of learning and living with you. I want us to take a step or two down the road together, however brief.

I want you to offer me some way to relate, to walk away with some idea of how your shoes feel and your most recent speculations on the imprecise nature of our current destination, whatever it is that you’ve got going on.

I want you to take your choice from the menu of delights, insights, delusions and intuitions that may come tumbling from my being in any one moment and use them. Use them to bring yourself home if you’ve lost your centre, use them to inspire you into your next learning or maybe add a little light to your next great or tiny goal.

I most assuredly see myself in the business of elevation and reciprocity.

Sooner or later it also seems to turn out that when you use what I have on offer to constrain or reduce the reality of me, invariably you will find that you’re presenting me with an even greater gift – the irrefutable proof that there are times when people have completely given up on themselves and others. The broken times, when someone has entered the world of self-justifying or self-gratifying illusions.

“Excuse me, I can’t be human right now, I’m right in the thick of my own self-destructive implosion mission. Check back with me later.”

“No worries. I’m glad I’m not you right now.”

We are not separate, I know your pretend vacuum-sealed self is imaginary and hurts you one thousand times more than it hurts me. This is not news. I know because I’ve spent lots of time trying it out. I most certainly cannot conscionably recommend hanging out on that particular limb for too long, it’s bloody exhausting [or bloody and exhausting, your pick].

You don’t have to like me to enjoy the journey. I don’t have to like you for us to exchange genuine service with each other. Vile, virtuous, vexatious or the epitome of verity – I regard your presence as my reward. So go ahead and present yourself as a poo-flavoured dog-biscuit and watch me laugh at all the time and energy that was just wasted.

Seriously, come, lay your doubts on me brothers and sisters, then strap yourselves in and grab hold of your socially-engineered default-configuration hats, I think we’re in for a one hell of a wild ride!

Really being a human

If you’ve had enough of bad news, or you can relate to anything in my last couple of poems – check out this news article today. It’s a fine example of diversity in action in Australia.

Snip of triple M article

Excerpt from the Triple M article

In truth, we have all sorts of people here with very loud voices representing their various interests and, oftentimes they are all arguing with one another. Dan represents the voice that almost never gets heard and it’s a testament to our shared humanity that his beautiful attitude (in my humble opinion) has even made it’s way into the news stream.

Objecting, opposing, denouncing, calling out bad behaviour, resisting, etc. they all have their place. Here’s a reminder that there is also another way…

Read the article here —>  Dan becomes anti-racism hero

News Feed

In the age-old tradition
of propaganda and repetition
we are expecting
perpetual circumnavigation
of the truth
peppered
with a percussive deluge
of obscurities
highlighted
in blinding succession
by incendiary instants
of infinite insanity
inflicted
upon marginalised percentages
of human populations
precipitated
by pandemically disproportionate
political photosensitivity
conducted
in indecipherable waves
of community-conscious pathos
punctuated
by an hysterical post-ethical
imperative to imperil
inherent critical faculties
with antithetical rhetoric
reinforced
by a dispassionate discourse
of preposterous proportions
among the privileged unharmed
and the righteously
unaffected.

There’s only one side

One heart, one love

I’m on the side
Of the whole world

One soul, one truth

Hair can be straight,
Frazzled or curled

One life, one dream

Skin can be warmth,
Yet men are grouped

One earth, one peace

Eyes may not see
Minds can be duped

One voice, one hope

A human dies
As nations weep

One world, one joy

One is awake
Two are asleep.

*

Smashing beliefs

finger-limes

Crack! glass is shattering all over the place;
the mask splits and I’m dancing around
in my underwear.

Pop! vesicles of finger lime explode on my tongue;
a festival of juicy outbursts and a diversion
for our attention.

Shock! thunder roils those calm seas of of the righteous;
from under the bones, the low rumblings of nature hold a
sense of foreboding.

Click! knowing and awe have become artists-in-residence;
a flowing arrangement of clear vision and virtuous men returning
to simple truths.

*