Love shadows (2)

Flat like a shadow.

Sits there, waiting to take form.

Look at the person, look at the depth,

of feeling.

Given to another, it casts a shadow,

Where it’s absorbed.

Reflected back and forth between two people

Rebounding from all the many surfaces

of personality to fill

the shadow spaces with light

 

 

How sad are those who cast

love shadows,

Sending nothing back.

Taking, taking, never giving.

Then you turn to look at it.

The shadow.

See only black

No love

In the end you never see the

Love light.

Only it’s shadow

with a shape you know too well

A poem for someone else

To take responsibility for life.

The totality of it, the enormity of it.

The sadness of it, the loneliness of it. 

It feels like a void opening in the mind.

A vast space of fear, I can’t breath properly.

I gasp for air, I drown in my own possibilities. 

No God, no parents, no past.

Good luck vanishes along with bad.

All that is I have caused to be. 

Outside and inside merge to one.

There is no room for blame here.

Judgement becomes a pointless exercise.

Before

Before I was busy

                                                Now I am not

Before I was stressed

                                                Now distress replaces

Before I had a job

                                                Now I feel abused

Before I was self-employed

                                                Now I earn a living

Before there was a future

                                                Now the future sucks

Before I was successful

                                                Now I am. That’s all

Nothing is what it seems

Nothing I am scared of

Nothing I do want

On this turn of the spiral

Nothing outside choosing

Nothing not responding

On any turn of the spiral

Nothing beyond senses

Nothing found rejection

On a higher turn of the spiral

No thing and thing co-existing

Nothing from whence creation

On every turn of the spiral

Silence

Pauses can get pregnant it seems.

Silence can be deafening.

Loneliness can grow on you.

Even absence can make

the heart grow fonder.

Funny how nothing can

Make such a difference.

A poem for me

I want so badly to pray for me.

To wish and hope the lucky break.

For which I accept the glory,

in all that has gone right.

 

A moments hesitation, a forgotten act,

a little mistake and all this life is wasted.

I’ve got to get it right.

Tension, stress and craziness. 

This is how I live each day.

I judge events and people.

I pretend to take responsibility.

to avoid the fear unbounded.

Dusk

The sound of wood burning.

The light fades, double glazed.

My desire is to turn off lights,

And let the day drift away by itself.

Yet there is an urgency to it.

A feeling in the depth of my being.

A need to be a part of something.

A channel for the rhythm of life.

Peace with joy inside.

An invitation to be.

Drink

Drink,

That sickening destructive substance.

Ruiner of families, of lives.

Vomit, puke inducing alcohol.

Brain numbing, body crushing drink. 

Lives paused waiting for cars

in driveways or keys in doors.

They’re home, life can play again.

After the freeze frame of fear releases

. The thump of his hand on the wall

As he stumbles.

We won’t go home until morning,

We won’t go home until morning. 

Disgust is all I feel now

The mindless consumption shames.

Changing levels

To write this is to accuse

 

My hope is that it will also forgive.

On the horizon lies a me that I want to be

A me that knows what he is capable of

A me that can love without limitation

That can act without self imposed defeat

Once I pleaded that my getting up off my knees

Would not mean that others must drop to theirs.

I made that plea so that I could keep my Gods.

For a time it will appear that as I stand, Tall and at my full height, others are lowered.

But it is not that they are on their knees.

It is just that I am standing on the shoulders

Of time spent in other lives and places. 

Oh, that is so painful.

It is grief that keeps me here.

That sense of impending loss That changing levels brings. 

I gaze out from my full height

Down on all of those I love and, then

Raising up my eyes to look around meSee miles and miles of countless heads.

But can no longer see their faces. 

I try to walk but can not.

The heads are like tall reeds that impede me.

They bind unto my legs as I try to wade past. Look higher Shay, look higher.

Raise your eyes to those above

That you may learn again.

And I become as a child, holding the hand

Of those who are older and wiser than I.

Everything

“Everything is as good or as bad as one’s opinion makes it”

So why does my tooth hurt.. These last months have taught me so much.

So much of what I can’t remember. 

Does that mean that all I know is fully integrated.

So integrated I can’t remember what it is I’ve learnt. 

Today or was it yesterday?

Anyway, I caught a glimpse of something.

A thought brings pain or joy.

 Now I understand.

Associations and beliefs that are so powerful, they determine my life itself.

My willingness to give love and as a result my experience of love is totally of my own making.

Wow!

Mind you, there are thoughts and there are thoughts.

Really big obvious ones that we think we control.

But what about the wee little, subtle, tiny, sneaking up on you ones, that seem to come out of nowhere? Those thoughts that we are never really aware of.

Those thoughts that belong to the shadowlands.

Dark places, where all the mythical heroes go.

My, how we shake when we go inside.

I can feel it now, the creeping fear. The hairs rising on my neck.

The clamminess of skin.

The tears arise.

Please no.

No.

Tony tells the story of the Master who answers the questions with one word said three times.

Awareness, awareness, awareness. A child will enter the darkened room if you turn on the light. Why not I?

Because I know that everything in the room is mine.

Neatly stored away until I’m ready to look.  John once did an exercise about boxes.

What have I got in mine. Oh, the tears are back.

My heart is beating hard, thumping in my chest with what is only a memory. The same thing happened last time too. I can’t even get an image of what’s in there.

It’s feels all so sad. I cried and cried that time too.

For so long, for ever I think. We cry from our eyes so that the tears will wash down over the rest of our bodies and cleanse all the pain,

all the tension,

all the attachments.

Once they are cleaned of all our beliefs,

all associations,

all the muck,

then they become memories.

Nothing more and nothing less.

Incidents in our lives we will use to illustrate.

A story to be told over a pint or at a seminar.

Suddenly we are teachers with a hoard of interesting things to say.

We can keep the crowds amused for hours and hours.

Pick and choose from a lifetimes experiences.

Watch the faces.

They’ll think I’m a Master now.  All I have is a life just as they.

No real difference.

Just a little easier to carry because I have labelled some of the baggage.

That one is marked anger and this one joy.

Here is marked jealousy and that one fear.

What a big one for loneliness.

Travellers are always on the move.

They gather lots of baggage.

If they label it well, with the owners name and address, it will find it’s way.

Pack everything away neatly, know exactly what it contains.

It fits in a little box called life.

It’s weight can change.

It can be so heavy, it bends our backs to the ground.

It can be so light it causes us to float. This I know.

Why?

Well it’s the pain in my right shoulder

and the ache in my left side.

The tiredness I feel all over.  But there is a power that carries a torch into my dark places.

All I need do is agree to follow wherever it shines.

And carry lots of labels too.

Oh and remember to smile.

Give thanks for every moment.