exit of my eden

 The removal truck went yesterday

This dawn I went to surf  The Point

It may be for the last time

It didn't look great but went out anyway

As I paddled out a double rainbow arched over Maka 

Reflecting in the water right to me

The sun rising over Tata bathed the entire sky in a ambient orange glow

Brooding clouds caressed the hills and gently covered me with their tears 

As they flowed seaward where they formed the shape of a massive eye

 In the sky that seemed to watch over me.

The waves were actually good

When I went in the sun was shining and I thought

Maybe this  move will be alright  

Went home? to do my last job

The Salvation Army are coming to take away the washing machine

 

The integrity of your daily bread the rightness in the way you're fed the structure in the sheltering house relating to the whole in health living with the other ones  establishing the kingdom come.

The Walls Enclosed Him In

 After the baby was delivered from the womb

and the cage of his conception 

was no longer his tomb,

he learnt to walk and then to speak

and then he saw the room...

The walls enclosed him in.

Spirit wrestled with reason

and body sat in doubt.

Faith conquered fear

stepping through the door, he won the bout.

He wandered through the house and found,

he still wasn't out...

The walls enclosed him in.

Logically, he perceived, outside there'd be a yard,

so looking through

and climbing out the window wasn't hard.

Freedom, feeling grass on feet.

Running....fence? barred!...

The walls enclosed him in.

"Follow the fence, look for the hole."

This adventures getting great.

Yes, there it was, what he'd searched for,

he knew ther'd be a gate.

Upon the post challenging him,

a latch, it hung like bait...

The walls enclosed him in, but he knew.

There is always a way out...

1Corinthians 10 v 13

Existential Angst

 Back in the day we were formed from the clay

Now we've formed clay into the way of today

There is a WOW of now and I understand how

But I wonder why? and look to the sky

Is this something we should?

Is this bad? Is this good?

Is there more to this substance than the matters I sense?

Because there's a hole in my soul crying what is my role

And dents in the fence of what my life's meant

Am I unique?

Or a modern dazed sheep  a woke and asleep

Going along with both right and wrong

Which is wrestling a brain for the prize to be sane

And why do these questions come again and again?

Friction

 My thoughts are confricting

Matters rubbing mind

Heating as they're beating

On the anvil of my kind

About the concepts of creation

Between a women and a man

Where I stand in the relation

Of what I aren't and who I am

Conflict and dissension

Happening in my head

Conscience scrapping consciousness 

Schrodingers cats not dead?

JUST DO IT

 The poet William Stafford said that

 he wrote a poem every morning

about the first word that came into his head

This is what a poet do's 

(for the grammar police, dos - operating system software)

So lower your standards and

don't wait for The Muse

So I 

being an aspiring poetic guy

resolved to give his method a try

So here's a poem for me and you

It's title is I Need a Poo

I hope that that it's about going to the toilet

Doesn't offend you and doesn't spoil it

And now that I am able to sit at my table

A body intentive about being inventive

and choosing to write at the end of the night

I think

isn't that what creativities about

It's how I get my insides out

And now I've done it my only sorrow

Is the worry I'll write the same poem tomorrow

How low can my standards go?

Every

 Every religion has its fundamentalists and mystics.

 Every culture its members and misfits.

 Every organisation it's laws and freedoms.

 Every system its believers and cynics.

 Every game it's rules and aim.

 Every thought its pros and cons.

 Every life it's joys and strife.

 Every universe it's centre which is right where you are standing.