[Byzantine Bindings]

Saturday 23 December 2017

Ta Da!


Morning
darkness surrounds
glad to be writing this
back into old ways of working
daily

midwinter
stone cold 
magpies chatter about
having turned the year’s corner
blackbirds
even now
begin territorial pinking
marking the turning point
knowing something unlearned
getting on
unthinking nature
moved by unseen rhythms
unmetered cadences
encourage belief in rising and falling
hope that change is not only possible but thankfully
inevitable



Time for this Bird to Fly

Tuesday 5 December 2017

Super Moon 2017


last full moon
before winter solstice
clothes memories
in bright white garments
singing fringes

outside
cold air reaches
our stories hearth
upsetting everything
sparks fly catching our throat

coughing and spitting
our way back home
embarrassing lack of green
speaking only charcoal 
silence speaks

what now
when 
only 
this 
remains





What became of us
time
space even
ate up our belongings
left us on the platform
faces full of rusty brown
coal steam smoke
wondering

still breathing
the same air
living or dead
but one time we were there
even if memory fades
impressions tell a truer tale
when time’s tide
shifts the sands

bespoke memories
tailored now when
before
woollen woven  roughness
provided proof of reality
for lacking retelling
we wander about the edges
poking in the leaves

awake
that which lived still lives
nothing is born nothing dies
we dance amid the sparkling
glossy moments
catching and missing the beat
singing whatever comes to mind
(making it up)
and that is more than enough.


Monday 20 November 2017

Process Revealed

“Behold, I have left an open door before you, which no one can close.”
Rev 3.8

Crown

sinking
into the mind
opening out the ways
allowing the magic to flow
freely

freely
grace is given
trusting the metaphor
given enough for this morning
hope keeps one eye on the journey
daily

daily
walking along
pilgrims along the way
looking for something to signpost
homeward

homeward
smell the soul food
see it in everything
glory to god in the highest
which one

which one
the open door
relaxing the body
stepping out into the ocean
freely

sinking
grace is given
pilgrims on the way
glory to god in the highest
freely

1. What jars
god
speak of it
of which nothing can encompass
of which words fail
draw the circle bigger
until
the boundary
bears no relation to the centre
any sense of meaning lost
inked words bleed (failing)
drift perilously
far out
then you have it
all there is
netted water
silence.

2. The jar provides the stimulus
irritating god
somehow producing
pearls inside shells
which are somehow
produced
for some reason
beyond
any understanding
you could hang your hat on
besides
diving for pearls
is a dangerous business
who knows what lies
in darkness
in deep
foreign legions
much sand
few pearls

3. Mind engages
has to
hardwired
cannot let things lie
no amount of effort
clears muddied water
in the jar
letting go our only hope
hope alone
remains after all has fled
from our precious boxes
we stole the fire
before we knew
how to enshrine it
grew wings
without thinking.

4. This is all I know
written down
signed
with my own hand
freely given to the world
this day
the twentieth November 2017
so called
with mind
bell clear
in tenderness and compassion
bearing no malice to anyone
proudly
bearing the scars of encounter
and wrestle
limping
I know nothing

i) What jars
god
speak of it
of which nothing can encompass
of which words fail
draw the circle bigger
until
boundaries
bear no relation to centres


ii) Jar provides the stimulus
irritating god
somehow producing
pearls inside shells
which are somehow
produced
for some reason
beyond
any understanding
you could hang your hat on

iii) Mind engages
has to
hardwired
cannot let things lie
no amount of effort
clears muddied water
in the jar
letting go our the hope


iv) This is all I know
written down
signed
with my own hand
freely given to the world
this day
the twentieth November 2017

(so called
with mind
bell clear
in tenderness and compassion
bearing no malice to anyone
proudly
bearing the scars of encounter
and wrestle
limping
I know nothing.)



shaman
through open doors
walking in the garden
blessing every thing in shadow
lightly






Sunday 19 November 2017

Rev 3.8


There is an open door which no one can close...

knowing
light to the touch
moments of mindfulness
emptiness too an illusion
smiling

Who knew?

Wednesday 15 November 2017

Sound of Breathing

Nothing can prepare you
for the gentle shock of it
sitting there
thinking it’s all going well
then arising from beyond
somewhere
you knew you could ask
but hadn’t taken the time to listen
comes the thought
all these breaths
in and out
where do they come from
I cannot control them
they come and go of their own volition
and then the heartbeat
overtakes the imagination of its own heart
asking the same questions
about coming and going 
regularity of rhythm 
who knows
in the beginning I breathe in
at the end I breathe out 
what can I say about
everything in between
it just strikes you
and things are never the same
you walk with a slight limp
and a knowing smile
more than that who can say

with any degree of certainty.

Sunday 12 November 2017

Religion - binding or looking again...

relego or religo

Religion’s virtue is in its origin
looking again
believing change is possible
hard to see
nothing is what it
first seems
words divide
from
the one
its historical emphasis on form
rather than substance
has caused wars and deaths
devastating both
our species and planet
time to look again.

substance
dividing words
accidentally shown
reality to be confused
by mind

Thursday 9 November 2017

'Write what you want', he said...

be still
know I am God
know that I am with you
know that I am is sending you
silence


there is no myth here
no story to revive and revise
just the essence
coming into the light
the fire
the sand
shoes off now
should I kneel
fall on my face
no time now
silence roars from the flames
something happened
nothing has changed
everything is different
what now

A Shepherd’s Life

tending the flocks that will never be mine
dreaming of camp fires and singing red wine
clanking of awkward rung bells
old and familiar smells
no one believes in a trick of the eye
how can I tell them they’ll say it’s a lie

but something happened out here in the cold
something more precious than silver and gold
awkwardly seeking my bones
grinding the truth with their stones
speaking in tongues in the fire and the flame
drawing me inward to join in the game

lost in the dreams of the moon and the stars
carrying bundles and counting the scars
flashing quickness of the blade
in the manger where he laid
out across the desert in the morning
comes the dreadful angel with her warning

hosannahs from the highest heavens call
bring news that God is something very small
tangled in an earthen web
joined forever in the ebb
can it be that God is leaving heaven
can I taste it here within this leaven

now before the morning star is risen
shaking off this old and dusty prison
letting go the iron bars
finding truth among the stars
walk the trails that many trod before me
resting neath the tree that harbours angels

Tuesday 7 November 2017

Participant /Observer

treble
the silence
nothing is here listen
join in the flowing mystery
thankful

challenged to face fear
and watching it fade
like smoke
once I was
everything then this
life tore me apart
words
separated me
from the one
finding my way back
it seems
is less now
about struggle
and more
about different perspective
arial view
revealing bigger picture
levitation
mind games

Thursday 2 November 2017

Crow

listen
God alone knows
endless stream of living
present to you in the moment
glowing

three streams
meet
Buddhism
Christianity
and crow
lifelines in the hallway
offering support
discernment required
asked for
in silence
method in madness
structure
gives the impression
of solidarity
but crow knows
the Buddha sees
and the Christ smiles
what is to become of us
children of the earth
pilgrimaging
home



Tuesday 31 October 2017

Morning Prayer

sitting
thoughts come and go
somewhere in the distance
another beating heart calls me
homeward

Monday 30 October 2017

Monastery

deep impression
of beat
rhythm
leitmotif
of cosmic drone
ways of doing things
key to how work becomes prayer
if done thoughtfully and mindfully
if you have a routine
way
sense of purpose
of dedication
of discipline
then there is room
space
open hand
upon which
the butterfly might land.




BBC 4 link only for another 25 days!

Tuesday 24 October 2017

Late Autumn

dying
close companion
throughout the whole of life
turn your constant face towards me
daily



death has no emotion
no feeling
like thoughts of dying
which
creates fear and regret
watering these seeds
brings more suffering
better
see your true history
in clouds
in the faces of
parents
of people you helped
children, grandchildren
let every cell of your body smile
water the seeds of compassion








Sunday 22 October 2017

Mid-Term

let go
restless yearning
listen to the weather
everything is as it should be
flowing

Saturday 21 October 2017

Editing


wordless*
resting the brain
come back to the moment
nurturing seeds of the future
beauty






* ‘wordless’ stated off life as wording

Tuesday 17 October 2017

New Moon

to what end
are meanings constructed
tiny footholds in crumbling rock
constantly shifting weight from
one leg to the other becoming
a stubborn people unheeding
jeering at prophets imagining cruel
endings
smiling morning star holds hope
new beginnings
when water sits as stone
silent snowfall makes it all
equally redeemable

keeping
to the water
morning breaks the meaning
letting go should be so simple
waken

Monday 16 October 2017

Morning Glow

half-light
before colour
wondering about space
time and again in the mist of
morning

Tuesday 10 October 2017

Today

Dying
will be no more
rebirth proving once more
seasons endless rounding of time
exposed.

Saturday 30 September 2017

Something

Water
empty clear flowing
natural state of mind
ever changing present moment
flowing

Wednesday 20 September 2017

On the seashore...

Complex
so many thoughts
breathing in breathing out
resolving the conflict within
simple

simple
follow the breath
calmness and peace ensue
water the seeds of compassion
gently

gently
bring the mind back
doing nothing let go
living in the present moment
grateful

greatful
simply being
in this joyful moment
nowhere to go nothing to do
breathing

breathing
being content
letting go of anger
knowing there's only this moment
deep peace

Complex
follow the breath
doing nothing let go
nowhere to go nothing to do
deep peace. 

Tuesday 19 September 2017

Allotment's Autumn

Sitting
in the garden
death is all around me
bursting with life every moment
timeless

Sunshine
breathe in and out
you can do a little
you can rest in the life giving
moment

Birdsong
gentle echo
listen my soul in peace
whispering of the universe
come home

Humming
late summer bees
searching for some pollen
calling me mindfully back home
centred

Breezes
flowing of air
playing with everything
making leaves dance and sing for joy
gently

Sitting
breathe in and out
listen my soul in peace
calling me mindfully back home
gently

Sometimes
all the time
it is possible to see
something of the world
beyond the senses
the seeing eye
that you dream with
sees the world as it really is
endless cycles are at rest
constantly changing
silent echoes
amid the quiet colours
weaving tapestries
of meaning before the eyes

Saturday 16 September 2017

(untitled)

summer
burned itself out
remember her fondly
leaving the ash of fallen leaves
footprints

Friday 8 September 2017

Friday

cloudy
seasons changing
knowing that I belong
day holds many things of wonder
simple

Saturday 2 September 2017

September

no rules
what makes me real
until the tide comes in
re-membering the way it was
morning

Monday 28 August 2017

The price of freedom...

Going through emails
unsubscribing 
from dozens of needless invitations to waste time
discovering myself wasting the same time surfing the net
realizing time cannot be wasted 
(I would have been doing something else)
next turn my attention to mindfulness
make breakfast
put on ambient music 

and tidy the garage

...constant vigilance





Sunday 27 August 2017

Another day...


...another endband
It all seems to be getting better the more I try. The only inconsistency is at the start (left hand side) when the gap is too large between the stations.  The return is more consistent because the thickness of the thread gradually works its way round and by the time the left hand side is reached the gap is made up. Next time I will add an extra turn after the diagonal loop back in the early sections.
Note that the left and right refer to the top image which should be read reversed in the bottom image
rear view
The differences in height, the dip in the middle, is caused because the text block is slightly lower than the boards. Next time I hope to make them the same height.





Saturday 26 August 2017

Today...

no time
like the present
living in the moment
past and future no longer loom
happy

Some days it is like that
today is one of those days
tired from yesterdays hard work
clearing the years of undergrowth
revealing the bare soil
beginning to understand how it all works
in a way that leaves room
for glorious unintended outcomes
to grace moments
cleaved from eternal wonder.


Friday 25 August 2017

Finally

Turning the corner

Seems like an age, but it's probably only a couple of weeks, I managed to get this endband sorted.
I was making a tutorial to print off for myself and hit a brick wall when I got to this part. 

The problems were about consistency and infilling. I was adding extra turns at the corner to try and fill in the gaps. Turns out that at the gap just go in as if into a section and continue as normal. I know this doesn't mean anything to anyone but it's a lot to me.

The key to it was making a trial one, a board with a few sections sewn on and then keep doing it until it is right. It's a bit soul destroying having to keep cutting it off and starting again but in the end it is worth it.

Having the right thread helps too. It has been quite a journey to find the right sort. I have tried all manner of threads, and still have a few on order to try, so the journey isn't over yet.

It seems St. Benedict was right, "Always we begin again.", though I can't for the life of me find it in the Rule.

Friday 18 August 2017

When salt loses it's taste

strangely
based on living
having to forget things
looking at another layer
dreaming

turning

autumn to winter

what was 
before it was

inner searching
turning old leaved
familiar musty smell
rotting thoughts 

no comfort
when life's autumn 
turns it's seasons
towards the winter

yet

never was there such a day 
only a breath away

edging towards 
glorious inevitability
scything of mellow 
meadowed souls



always
we begin
again




Thursday 17 August 2017

It is what it is...

Round the Corner
Well, it's all there nothing missed out. Nothing another few years of practice won't sort out.
A couple of things to note In my opinion:
Thicker thread makes the gap less obvious 
Thinner thread looks better

Home straight now. 

Mantra:
Into section 
wrap round top core
in through the back - missing three threads
diagonally across
round the top core
into section...
repeat


Better

Correct (After)



I was right, as I undid the thread I discovered that the two odd looking ones were in fact not wound round the top cord after going into the section.


Missed looping round (Before)

What is interesting is how the back looks even better.

Reverse View
All the books say start by going in from the back, but now I am wondering about reversing it so the outside is on the inside. 

Now there is just the trickery of the big gap on the corner to negotiate between the last hole and the first section.


Close...

...but no cigar


Waxed crochet yarn


These were better.


Blue 18/3 linen
   




Seem to be struggling a lot with this now, the first couple of books went fine then I started writing it up so that I could pass it on to others.
Things went swimmingly until I got to the part about the endbands. I think it's about focus and consistency somehow.

The trick is to learn and I think where it has gone wrong, twice, is not going round after going into the section hole.

Always we begin again.

Wednesday 16 August 2017

Grass needs cutting on the allotment and...



things need tidying 
on the workbench
and 
I don't like it when this happens
when
working mindfully takes a back seat
and 
mania takes over
when
a million monkeys jump from tree to tree
and
instead of watching them
I chase after them.


Monday 14 August 2017

Perhaps...

God is
made manifest
in the doings of christ
co-mingled with everything
daily

Friday 11 August 2017

Nearing the End of Something

Blot

follow
nothing asked for
taking the time to be
re-cognising reality
gently


Thursday 10 August 2017

Time past...

blue sky
seeming normal
longed for simplicity
turning poems into music
beating

Imagined field of poppies
yellow corn
probably clear blue sky
crisp linen shirt  bare
feet
well worn dirt path

longing yet homely feeling
coming home to the unknown place
with low door
lowing cattle smell of bread
goodness lives here
in the tiny mullioned windows

peer in
table set with wonder
swallows under eaves
swift action silence on the wing
even roses round the porch
seat

sit
closing eyes 
better to see the wonder of it all
as singing gently
she 
carries me home

Wednesday 2 August 2017

Moments

Breathing
nose chest tummy
tummy chest nose again
going nowhere doing nothing
simple.

Constant vigilance
ensuring
awareness doesn't wander
from the task in hand
watching the monkeys
in trees
playfully jumping
from branch to branch
taking care not to wander far
from the breath
returning to its apparent constancy
knowing the truth
becoming aware
that prayer is every
breath
no more no less

Sunday 30 July 2017

Detachment is not the same as aversion.

detachment leads to wisdom and right perception 
whereas aversion leads to attachment and suffering.

come in take off your robe 
make a heap of your clothes
shave your body make a pile of your hair.
flay your skin make a heap of that
strip all your muscles from their bones 
sinew cartilage and tendon 
make a pile of them
stack up your bones in a pile
grind them to dust
look closely at the piles
watch them fade to dust
blown by the wind 
carried into the clouds
out to the ocean to be rained on the earth once more
were is the independent I


gather the grape
fruit of the vine
work of hands
crush in the press 
reduce to liquid
pour out for all
gather the wheat 
grind
bake
tear
share
with all
where is the grape
where is the wheat

how sweet
this one moment
nothing could be simpler
sipping water watching it flow
through me

no birth
all one in time
no death no otherness
only part of the rolling tide
rhythm 


Tuesday 25 July 2017

Golden Cinquain


lost dream
gone in a flash
nothing left but feelings
there is nothing left but ashes
ever

ever
waking moment
dreaming of a lost life
in some parallel universe
resting

resting
calm engulfs me
every cell is smiling
waves come crashing on the shoreline
silence

silence
in the morning
birdsong breaking the spell
restlessness comes with the morning
calling

calling
over the hills
listening for echoes
longing for the distant whisper
comfort

(i) lost dream
waking moment
every cell is smiling
restlessness comes with the morning
comfort

miracle
everyday life
living for every day
focusing on the needful things
gently

gently
learning to sit
calmness is everything
manifestation of heaven
present

present
in the moment
long enough to savour
music behind the promises
singing

singing
songs of morning
blissfully awaken
resting in peaceful between states
music

music
noting silence
finding the harmony
joyfully running together
as one

(ii) miracle
learning to sit
long enough to savour
resting ion peaceful between states
as one

moving
out of the dream
into the wakefulness
senses awakening slowly
movement

movement
into the day
gently start unfolding
wings that have never been opened
promise

promise
new day dawning
what will you do today
with this one precious life given
jump in

jump in
every moment
lived to the maximum
spent in the service of others
loving

loving
spending it all
giving it all away
never stopping to count the cost
gladly

(iii) moving
into the day
what will you do today
spent in the service of others
gladly

garden
haven of peace
constantly challenging
dreaming of life in the moment
dying

dying
being reborn
endless cycles of life
constantly looking for freedom
elsewhere

elsewhere
awakening
across the universe
stirring some life into being
water

water
trapped in the land
looking for its mother
cutting through the tallest mountain
easy

easy
coming back home
rejoicing in the dawn
coveting the precious moment
smiling

(iv) garden
being reborn
across the universe
cutting through the tallest mountain
smiling

endings
unmasked mornings
stirring up potential
showing the way to go forward
by chance

by chance
reality
opens the way forward
sitting in the cool of the day
waiting

waiting
for nothing else
everything is in me
seedlings of the universal
watered

watered
sprouting to life
needing only nurture
growing in the silent darkness
movement

movement
towards the light
coming to the surface
manifesting endless glory
brightly

(v) endings
reality
everything is in me
growing in the silent darkness
brightly



lost dream
learning to sit
what will you do today
cutting through the tallest mountain
brightly















Monday 24 July 2017

This morning at least...


stillness
ocean of calm
daily practice sustains
nothing in the mind of no one
empty

Sunday 23 July 2017

Return

back home
all in the mind
generous offering
caught in the sense of the moment
subtle

Thursday 20 July 2017

The Most High God

here I am
ready and willing to be a servant
of the most high God
and all the 
most high God wants
is to hide away
in full view
but that’s ok
I know the most high God is here
in the same way I know I am here
which is tenuous
to say the least
so we’re quits
the most high God can get on with whatever
and I will get on with whatever
knitting reality from fog

it’s a start anyway

starting
always as hard
thinking it’s something else
often just a little whisper 
calling

calling
in the morning
tapping on my window
some little bird to let me know
something

something
rattles around 
niggling at my conscience
inviting me to make a start
daily

daily
coming closer
is it in the sunshine
or the universal murmur 
calling

calling
loved and wanted
on the doorstep daily
coming closer every moment
welcome

starting
in the morning
niggling at my conscience 
or the universal murmur 
welcome

thankful
it never leaves
universal murmur 
always loving in the background
humming




Friday 14 July 2017

Perhaps

looking sideways
at
constant vigilance
being the price of freedom

over your shoulder
through a mirror
read
mindfulness brings freedom

perhaps
freedom sets you free
to be enslaved
by its pursuance

breathing in
I breathe in
breathing out
I breathe out

well at least I try

Commentary:
Too much I.




Saturday 1 July 2017

River end...

Completed a  River booklet - 11 more to go.

   

       
 

The structure is a Dos a Dos with Psalm 46 (RSV) as the first section and two further sections containing five cinquains each. The cuff and cover are made from 200gsm cold pressed watercolour paper and the text block is inkjet printed on 80gsm copy paper.

Here are the cinquains:

Cinquain(i)

Rising
old memories
threatening the present
letting go of all attachments
falling

falling
all to easy
into ways of thinking
listen to the tender silence
rising

rising
inner tensions
future looming larger
only in the present moment
falling

falling
seeking progress
walking quite awkwardly
always hold on to the vision
rising

rising
glimmering light
that of love within me
present in the presence of God
falling
Cinquain(ii)

Rising
all to easy
future looming larger
always hold on to the vision
falling

river
swelled with rail fall
up and down stream the same
only in this precious moment
presence

stillness
carved from water
freely given wonder
only everything demanded
whisper

mercy
whispered come now
unaware it caught me
(I was seeking something other)
hiding

slowly
in the garden
children of soil play
innocent of any knowing
graceful




Monday 19 June 2017

New Coptic Stitch

Same size as the others but this time a coptic stitch rather than tackett stitching. Fifth book made in five days. Pleased about that, goes to show what making time does.
Been to Le Prevo today in Newcastle, brilliand guys, very helpful, came away with lots of lovely coloured threads to stitch with.



Simple Closing


Peek Inside








Sunday 18 June 2017

Another day...

Another book
A tackett book, just a little one A6, I like that size. Discovering ways to work with images and Blog on the iPad. All a bit of a learning curve. The trick seems to be to take the photo with the iPad and then enhance it with the Image Size app then get it into Google Photos. Do this by opening Google Photos and uploading the image from the iPad.
Here's another image:


Take 2

In the middle of another tackett stitched book. This time with two cutouts. I staggered the stitching on the one above and it means that the sections will move up and down. Nothing wrong with that but I want it a bit more stable.
Learning all the time. 'Every day's a school day.'

Friday 16 June 2017

Day 1 Book 1

A little decoration on an old theme.


Just trying to figure how this works on the iPad. A new app (Image Size) and a bit of googling and I'm away.

Tuesday 13 June 2017

Molloy (I do make I laugh!)


process or technique
take this morning
take now!
I begin to reflect
before reading
this is because I am led to explore the difference between the words I have just read. “more of a process than a technique” referring to Lectio Divina 1

A technique is in a sense limited. There are a finite, though granted it's a big number, of ways of expressing myself in words, paints, sketching, drawing, music, acting etc.
This is because in using resources as techniques. I am attempting to realise something. I have some sort of aim in mind; a painting, a play, a song, some sort of output.

A process however is a a way of journeying without any intended outcome. This doesn't mean that there will not be one.
1. 30 minutes then photograph the result from the south west at an angle of 45 degrees from the horizon.
2. Import this image into Photoshop and apply a filter based on rules I will decide by use of a dice.

Techniques produce a desired effect.
Processes are more open ended.

Techniques are about achieving a goal.

Processes are about possibilities serendipity and unintended outcomes.

Techniques are about step 1,2,3,4,5,6 etc end result repeatable scientific method?

Process is about steps of randomness.
The path is traceable, if you want it to be, but has more potential for discovery and innovation.

They can overlap, and often do. I can be drawing and just letting the pencil meander across the page with no intention other than that of making a mark.
Whilst doing this I can be enjoying some reverie and suddenly a form will appear which I am invited to mound and shape into something.
This is how creativity happens for me sometimes.

Techniques can stifle.
They can constrain by their dogmatism; we use this glue, this colour, this card and this drill. This is how we make.
If we follow this sequence of actions we will produce that which we seek - reproduction.

Processes can liberate.
We have glue, paints, card and a drill. What can we make?
If we play with these things what outcomes might there be? - newness.

Techniques when practiced lead to skilful reproduction, processes when explored and combined can lead to unintended outcomes.
When we make an attempt to raise up our mind and heart to God we are entering into a process.

Walking on stepping stones are a technique for crossing a river.
If you are on one side and wish to get to the other side.
There are things you must be able to do in order to get from one side to the other.
Follow the steps, literally, and you will get to the other side.
This technique is ok to a point but of little use if you are blind, in a wheelchair, have a broken leg, afraid of falling in etc.
Getting to the other side now involves the need to be open to the possibilities and the resources around you, and indeed, to question the very essence of the task.
You may even decide not to attempt the crossing, in doing so you begin to enter a process rather than employing a technique.

I don't know that I am any nearer really.
Technique is about tools.
Process is about possibilities.

What does this have to do with prayer/ praying or getting ‘closer’ to God?
Language strains a bit. I'm not physically trying to cross a river.
These things are not about me doing, probably more about me being - God is involved.
What does that mean?
How is God involved?
I think there's a lot more wrestling time involved.
Maybe this discussion is about method and technique, perhaps process and technique are synonyms?
Language it seems has let me down.
Or is it my flawed logic, or will logic also let me down in the end?

It's how language is employed, now there's the thing.
Perhaps how I use it determines its meaning.
But then perhaps that meaning would only hold true for me, I think Wittgenstein had something to say about that.

It seems, like Beckett's sucking stone sequence in 'Molloy', 2 in the end it's all a matter.
It only matters when it matters and then does it matter?!


Spent all morning till now on this - time to go and wrestle with the weeds.

Sometimes  I do make I laugh!

1 Wiederkehr, M. (1995). Tree Full of Angels. HarperCollins, San Francisco. (p 58)
2http://www.samuel-beckett.net/molloy1.html

Saturday 3 June 2017

Words End

listen
in the silence
without expectation
gently returning to the breath
often

Friday 26 May 2017

Edited

coolness
treads softly now
takes nothing for granted
walking into futures freely
wonder


when watering
just water


Magic!

Tuesday 23 May 2017

The River


I forgot the river’s name
lagging behind the others
walking slowly now
unerring in step
grateful for every breath 
senses locked into automatic 
revealing something of the folly of it all

I forgot the river’s name
thankfully however it remembers mine 
and so I am enabled to gather fragments
memories of an uncertain past 
echoing down the years
tumbling into bed with myself
lost in the wonder of it all

I forgot the river’s name
faster flowing now
than is good for a body
but look 
the bank sustains the edges
holding up life in all its forms
gently now in darkened pools of light

I forgot the river's name
but dawn reflected light
sparkled clear as crystal 
bright as any sunlit dewdrop tear
on half forgotten pointed leaf
gently gathering 
mild morning magical mist

I forgot the river's name
was it childhood
walking back from school
paddling in new shoes
walking them dry home
wondering about transgressions 
even at that age of innocence

I forgot the river's name
sat upon the shore 
watching the others
splashing about all laughter
all light and connectedness
fearing nothing in those days
secure in her loving arms

I forgot the river's name
but not the blackberry redness
oozing in autumn’s loose grip
cobwebbed remembrances
never tasted so good back then
but then the world was younger
more disposed to smiling and laughter

Derwent

Saturday 13 May 2017

Book Review*



O’Rourke, B. (2010) Finding Your Hidden Treasure. London: Darton, Longman & Todd Ltd.

sometimes
books come along
taking you by the hand
magically lead you to water 
you drink

there is no coercion
in "Finding Your Hidden Treasure"
seamlessly
the royal red carpet unrolls
enabling a path you always knew
to be covered in thickets of chaotic
complexity
but
because of hard won stories
others brought back
curiosity kept you
hammering
and now
sitting by the river
the highway

now
becoming no easier
but generously illumined by
a voice of authenticity
becomes crystal clear
straightened
invitingly desert smoothed
walk hand in hand a page or two
find yourself
comfortably alone
peacefully connected to everything
at last
even wanton fragments
find their place
necessary faults
in the landscape of soul


*Disclaimer:
The last time I did a book review was "The Collins Pocket Guide to British Birds." That was back in 1962/3 I was at school and won a prize for it. This is my first book review since then so have a care.

Thursday 11 May 2017

St Augustine

Your True Teacher

"Your true teacher 
will always be 
the teacher within. 
It is he who enables you to understand, 
in the depths of your being, 
the truth of what is said to you." *





*O’Rourke, B. (2010) Finding Your Hidden Treasure. London: Darton,Longman & Todd Ltd p91