There are people out there doing amazing things,
Who just won’t allow anyone to clip their wings,
They instead put their problems to different uses,
They become challenges, instead of excuses.
Author Archives: blitzken
FACES
(picture by Loïc Viatte)
Where do we find ourselves
When we look
When we really look
Thinking our humanness
Has spilled out around
Personifications abound
Because a new way of seeing
Shows not that our being
Has morphed into
Objects and machinery
Our ego infiltrating
Industrial scenery
No instead we see traces
Of our own faces
Everywhere to remind us
That you can find us
Intricately woven
In ever part of this sphere
Because what we do here
Is not separate, interjected
But instead is connected
In discreet symmetry
To show that we
Are not overlords or seers
But part of the gears
Of the pulse and the flow
The planetary glow
Is not provided by us
But we’re of it.
Content?
Can I be confined?
Can grass not grow?
Once I’ve seen,
Can I not know?
If it seems it’s meant,
Questions to find,
Can I be content?
Can I be confined?
The Flower-Seller’s Tent
Warm inside the flower-seller’s tent
where I hide from the cold
stretching out my intent
to eventually purchase
a flower or two
but only after inspecting each plant through and through
as the seller harangues with his jovial taunt
I say with a smile….
“when I see it well then I’ll know just what I want!”
but after a while his tone becomes terse
so I finally take the few coins in my purse
and gladiolas in hand, with my last money spent
I return to the cold from the flower-seller’s tent.
Coffee Shop Philosophy
Coffee shop philosophy
Spilling over from the table beside me
As I grab a sandwich before grocery shopping,
Talk of dualism, quotes from Lao Tsu, cocky existentialism and young man’s posturing gushing forth from the guy with a radio voice.
My coffee makes me giggle.
One Thought
Just one thought that keeps me strong,
And helps me sleep at night,
I may have gotten some things wrong,
But I’ve gotten much more right.
Longing
Suckle me
Take me to your bosom
And let me drink from life
Whilst enveloping me in warmth and acceptance
Release me directly into the moment
Where nothing else exists
Except that oneness
That complete abandon
That divine connection.
Suckle me.
From A Fan
Okay, okay, I admit I’m a fan,
Of the mammary gland,
And I do find them very appealing,
I try to be discreet, and to stare at my feet,
Or I glance,
But then look at the ceiling,
It’s just so frustrating,
Cuz they’re so fascinating,
All those breasts, apple, pear-shaped, or conal!
I don’t mean disrespect,
I may have a defect,
In fact I think that it may be hormonal!
Right here, right now
We’re deeper than we know
If we can only let go
Of the present,
Our thoughts
Our judgments
Unrelenting
Preventing us
From being here and now,
Somehow
Experiencing
The moment,
That we’re in,
Physical sensations
On our skin,
Not yesterday
And all of its regret,
Nor tomorrow
And all that’s not happened yet,
But right here, right now,
And what it has to say,
Because one foot in tomorrow,
And one in yesterday,
Means you just end up pissing on today.
Plane Talk
Halfway through the flight,
Alcohol’d quenched my thirst,
And an annoying seatmate,
Finally brought out my worst,
At which point I turned
and then viciously burst:
“Donner’s my name,
And if we go down in this plane,
I’m eating you first!
After that her inane need to babble dispersed.
