Tuesday, 23 March 2021

Gesture No.4

 
Like a beach ball 
Softly bouncing down the stairs—
 
The quiet descent,
Of objects it did consist,
Yet the motion suggested
A distant field.

The colours revolved
Within the round,
A planar spectacle
From the world of depth—
 
The faint pulses
Beat out arhythmically
Upon the colliding
Potencies,
Introducing
The stadium of silence,
The deaf motion
Of a distant cloud
Drifting along
In the open sky.
 
The colours of the scene
Faded to a homogeneous
Luminescence—
A strange combination
Of stillness and motion,
Sound and silence,
Unity of space.
 
MS21

Monday, 15 March 2021

Saturday, 13 March 2021

Gesture No.2

 
The swirling agreement
With the imagined other—
Only to find unity
Was always there.
 
MS21

Thursday, 11 March 2021

Free Form No. 9

Free Form No. 9

As if time is foreign,
The battle of speed—

But unity pervades all
In concept too—

Behold! Time fades
Into present act.

MS21

Thursday, 4 March 2021

The Singular Ground No.1

 
How far we walk
To arrive still here—

The impenetrable distance,
The immeasurable motion—

The spherical reality
And the cessation of time—

The silent chaos
And the life sharing laughter.

MS21

The Singular Ground No.1 - 2021

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
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Friday, 26 February 2021

Free Form No.8

 
The loaded words
Serving solely to misguide,
A fantastic journey
Into dream and delusion—
 
The adventurous ride
Into painted meadows
And high-tech cities,
We fly like Scrooge—
 
So lucid, so bright,
The words do hint
At facts so rooted
In common ground—
 
But alas, behold,
The lurking daemon
Behind the garb
Of loosely fitting
Robes and lavish
Yet cheap polyester—
 
The elusive form
Speaking only in riddles
And haunting tales
Calling forth fancy views
Of transient charm—

The expanding girth
Of one so smart,
The rarefied potency
Incessantly infusing
Its molecular odour
Indiscriminately through—
 
What a terrible trick!
Yet who's to blame?
For afflicted is all
By this evasive cause—

Hands thrown up!
Sigh light in knowing
Ills perceived
Are just illusion—
 
For here we sit
In silent being,
Ravished not
By dismal scenes
Of fading fights
And startling news—
 
The parasitic leech
Is shaken off,
Falling hard
Does wriggle
In drying death
And dusty dissolution—
 
Until emerging from
The desert ground
One violet pulse
Of pulpy growth—
 
With this timeless act
Of effortless strength,
The greater field,
The unwavering friend,
Shows its face
In ceaseless presence—
 
The very bed
Of all delusion.
 
MS21
 






 
 

 
 

Saturday, 13 February 2021

Snow Outside

 

The quiet flurries of snow descended across
The light-blue-tinted-dawn-sky—
Only visible while passing in front
Of dark yet muted evergreens
Standing stoically in the snow.

The chill outside was felt inside
Notwithstanding the sweat-bearing windows
And the trembling heater in service.

Just as the cold was felt within,
So too were past experiences reflected inside,
Their factual intensity diminished over time
And their clarity impeded by the accrual of more.

The seagulls carving through the air from tree to tree,
Swooping and curving in graceful lines,
Were in fact playing in the falling snow.

The intellect of man, clever in its nature,
Serves the self but how dangerous to follow
Its command when not infused by the spring dawn.

MS21