Man made…?

A slight twist, in celebration of Woman’s Day. I hope you enjoy! She-Ra

Man. There he stands, roaring his prowess:
His strength; his mind; his voice; his power.
There he stands, Man, so blithely alone,
Independent, and standing oh so strong.
There he goes, the Alpha Male,
Swaggering and strutting and gloating.
There he preens, the Alpha male,
Thinking he is man-made alone.
Male pride, male audacity to think
He made it solely on his own
Male roaring and his competitive urge
To show that only he, above all, is Number One.
Ah! But we know don’t we?
And any Man worth his salt knows-
The secret, as he beams quietly and proudly-
His strength comes not from himself alone:
For who was it who born him into his life?
Who was it who raised him with his strength and his wits?
Who was it who gave him the wisest advice?
Who was it who taught him his failings and errors?
Who is it who picks him up when he falls?
Who is it who lets him cry, without mockery?
Who is it who keeps every secret he utters?
Who is it who gives him the strength when he thinks his strength has failed?
Who will it be who gives joy to his heart?
Who will it be who teaches him what kind of man he is?
Who will it be who sees nothing but adoration when looking at him?
Who will it be who teaches him to better himself?
Behind every man, Great and not so great,
Behind every man, Alpha Male through to Geek,
Behind every man from baby-hood to great-grandfather,
Stands – not one Woman; but many:
In silent strength, in giving compassion,
Without complaint – (okay sometimes with)-
Stands each Man’s own personal army:
Grandmother, Mother, Sister, Lover, Daughter.
Yes any Man worth his salt knows-
He is not Man-made, but made of


My own A.R.K

My A.R.K rides the tidal waves of the ocean of Agape,

Carried forward by the gentle waters without and within;

Perhaps I will see other other A.R.Ks along the way…

My A.R.K (Act of Random Kindness):

A Crystalline Gift

A Crystalline Gift

Spider of Destiny

A golden web is being spun, in the background, shadowed. The Spider of Destiny, golden and corpulent, weaves her Web – especially for you.
Unique, individual: as your life flows and the choices you make – furiously She weaves, twitching the Web here and tweaking it there, to compensate. The Pattern of your life to be read in Her busy, delicate threading.
The blind get caught in her sticky making, fastening you to Her determined intention until you have learned that strand’s lesson – and then you are released: shaken, unharmed – maybe – how hard did you fight? Did you hurt yourself in Her shining light, Her golden Web, dawning bright in your mind and heart and soul?
Do you see Her, beautiful, terrifying, as she weaves and threads, spinning and spinning?
Does she frighten you, knitting and flitting in rhythmic circumstance?
Is she radiant or ghastly in her Spider-like dance?

Golden Orb Spider

Golden Orb Spider (Photo credit: Mamboman1)

Spider of Destiny,
Weaving your Golden Web-
I see you, spinning each separate thread.
Let me dance with you,
Learn your ways,
Let me walk unharmed
Through your threaded maze.
Let us be friends, you and I,
That I might look with joy upon
The completed pattern when I die.


This is a piece I wrote some time ago: it is a release, of emotions, of confusion of feeling. Don’t worry – I don’t feel this way anymore! But I enjoyed re-reading this (if ‘enjoyed’ is the right word) from an objective view point… So I thought I would ‘put it put it out there’ and see what you guy think 🙂

What to do when the mood is upon you?
When you know not what to feel, how to feel, why you are feeling this way?
Feeling…. empty. Flat. Disassociated -? – Possibly. Angry, in some vague, unknown, uncertain way. Confused in yourself, in your feelings, in your arrested emotional development. Bitter? – Maybe. – Why?
Retreat. Retreat into the cold familiarity of those walls, of that blankness, that dullness that has been our only company before, like an old friend re-visiting.
Where has it come from? Why has it come? A myriad of reasons, none that stand up to reason.
Yet it is here, a comfortable shroud, and the old habit comes back, memory re-awakes, with the close-by glass of red wine and the cigarettes and the warm, silent alone-ness.
Vaguely confused, yet comfortably familiar. Perversely happy in fogged misery.
I can feel those walls rising up, closing me in, the darkness surrounding, the numbness enveloping.
And there is no-one here to take me out of my mind.
No-one to keep me sane. No-one to push back the darkness, to break the walls.
Is this the beginnings of madness? The start of withdrawal? A sign of depression? Or just a temporary blip, to be dealt with, to weather, until normal service is resumed?
Is happiness the temporary state until The Bleakness returns, or do I give too much credence to emotional wounds?
Does it matter? Does anyone care? Will tomorrow dawn bright, bringing good cheer?
A shadow, a shell, a husk-
A whisper, a fade, an echo thus.
Comfortably numb. Emotionally dumb.
Angry? Only at myself – never knowing how to deal with it, how to leak it, how to release it.
Always turned inward, a quiet bubbling within, unsure if it’s justified.
Disappointed – with myself. Never knowing….
What to do.
How to feel.
Why I feel the way I do.
A gaping hole.
A missing link.
Over and over. Again and again. Never do I learn.
So tired of myself.
There is so much brightness, so much love – I know it’s there – I have seen it, released it, shared it. But it is suffocated, constricted, drowned.
Marooned in an ocean of bleakness, numbness, emptiness.
I expect too much. I ask too little. I open too far. Emotions too brittle.
Perception is warped; projections abound. Like a mirage – am I really so unsound?
I try so hard to see the other side, never trusting my own judgement, by others I abide. So clearly I try to please, giving and giving, bottling and bottling, hissing and spitting when others don’t read my mind. Sweet and sour by turns, that’s me, so frustrated with myself, with this inconsistency.
Let me weep; let me rage;
Let me fear; let me hurt;
Let me anything but this all-consuming nothingness, this living death, this silent anger, this self-contempt quietly boiling within.

Midnight Walk – Inner Voice

Here’s another piece of ‘free-form’ poetic prose, inspired after a walk through the city at midnight, thinking about the (then) current events in my life.


moon over city

moon over city (Photo credit: entheos)

I’ve no need to hurry
I’ve no place to go
Like a ghost wandering the city
The only familiar face I know.

Ok I’ve thought about it and it might be the drink talkin’ but I like feelin’ free I like the independence… I walked the city, feeling cloaked in safety, in the darkness, no stars but the moon hung bright, a quarter face shining down ‘gainst the streetlight… white, aura clear, velvet sky creeping, just a tear of a star that reminds me, could blind me if it wasn’t for my ‘I defy thee’ – not only you but my own mind too, that only provides layer after layer of thought so confused I muse I can’t stop the deluge of voices that rationalise then vocalise and terrorise the stability of my life. Things is changing, too quick too fast my own mind’s to blame and I just can’t last to the final hurdle, it feels like the last entry to my journal I don’t know if I’ll be back off I go…

I’ve no need to hurry
I’ve no place to go
Like a ghost wandering the city
The only familiar face I know.

And it hurts to think I could let you go so easy not like I ever owned you but you know I had you tight locked down in my heart but something came along and ripped it apart and now my heart’s torn and my mind’s a mess I only thank the Goddess that I still feel blessed I don’t know why and I don’t know how ‘cos I always thought you were the only thing in my life worth the count but now I find myself in a space without you, a new future rears up, a future about me not you and I don’t know how what or when but I can only go with the flow go now go next – never back never down I’m here I’m free at last I’m out…

I’ve no need to hurry
I’ve no place to go
Like a ghost wandering the city
The only familiar face I know.

Hello, goodbye, which is the lie? Is there any truth anymore anywhere anyhow I don’t want to fight anymore but I will if it’s what it takes to break the tie break the chain break the deadline that has crept in time. Time ticks tocks never stops but it just has to drop me in space for a minute, infinite to me it’s a blip needed like a valium drip to an addict don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop I don’t want this anymore I can’t live a lie – what’s the lie? Withdraw into my mind forget and deny truth – truth? What’s truth? What’s ruth-lessness? what’s up what’s next? I can’t handle this spaghetti junction in my mind – just let me


Tranquility Today

Sun Drenched

Sun Drenched (Photo credit: Digimist)

This piece of poetic prose was written when I was in Italy, working at an English Summer camp for 2 weeks. I’d been having problems at home, going through a bit of a bad patch… In Italy, all those problems drifted away in the sun, the peace, the beautiful feel of where I was. Sitting outdoors on the patio, a glass of wine in hand, looking out a beautiful vista, with no cares in the world, I took pen in hand and wrote exactly how I felt at that moment:

Sweet Sun, blessed tranquillity here I am at last in total liberty no stresses no strains nothing heading towards the insane at last the peace for long I needed, Body Mind and Soul completed, unified, as a whole no longer the panic of the drowned man’s toll- but it comes! Oh it comes! I cannot yet think of that time so I shy away just relax and drink and enjoy, take in the bliss that currently swims through me around me over and in me- not waiting for the day when this will be behind me just enjoying the now, laughing and working and living so calm so chilled So Right Now – Dread the day I must must fly away and back to that manic trap that clouds me and binds me that will send me mad I am sure, sure my only escape will be to have the courage to off and take my life elsewhere – new not known but have I that strength to go it alone? So torn undriven panic sets in but that’s for another day another thinking not now not now please not again keep calm keep in the moment hold it tight – experience this living full, unmarred by emotions and stress because for now I have forgiven: myself, all my wrongs all my hurt and all my undones. This I hope to take with me on my return – But I can already hear my Lamenting Song.

KAIROS (A poetic essay of now-thought, inspired by Tom Wolfe’s ‘Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test’)

And t.v’s just flat man just flat just a friggin illusion not real not real to you or me but what the… Suits want – It’s all control man all control – Comfort zone keep them zonked keep them safe keep them in a perception for a quiet life That’s all man that’s it – what you gonna do, watch t.v then die?
You ever had an experience that makes you feel REAL like 3-D, like suddenly every sense turned on and you’re super aware of yourself and everything around you like truly Truly In The Moment and you realise you realise This Is Being This Is The Meaning of life -? On drugs or rising up natural outta nowhere like just all of a sudden – I’ve had both done both and Natural Aliveness is FREAKY man, just freaky, like Blam! Starshine rising through Consciousness from where man from where? It’s gotta be real gotta be the Inner Mind Your Lion rising rebelling against the mulch you keep yourself in when away from rationality on the conscious level something deep hidden damply suppressed has had enough – tired, tired of the Game of Life man of everyone else’s Perception of taking the easy way and your mouth moves and lips shape the same tired forms words you say without thinking without hearing without even knowing man without knowing! When do we wake up to this when do we say Hey I’m doing that crap! I wanna be Alive man I wanna say Truth I wanna jolt these people sharing my life here, right now, in the moment I wanna give ‘em something to spiral from to connect on – to make them Alive too man! And when are we truly alive? When we are truly deep in and of ourselves Being Us Being I not some conditioned Societal Guy. When we’re afeared or – In a situation new to us well and truly outta the comfort zone and you don’t know how to Be so you gotta be you – U, I O, E, A even Y man even Y. Y – why be scared of opening your brain and freeing your mind why not smile and shed the shit that’s been keeping you safe and warm and venture out to the wind and rain and Dark Forest of the Soul and joy at the truth of it, of U the freedom of Truth of Nature of Natural Being Inner not outer but project Project to share to see to let others see and be and see and be from others too a Multi-Being flow Flowing Flowering Flooding the soul Spinning the Spirit Tie a ribbon and constrict it – That old Familiarity of Illusional Perceptional safety zone landing Keep Scaring Scarity still experiencing Be it Keep on Warble High the last note of the Song See man what is that I write Am I high? Drugs circulate and ride – No not at all honest guv straight as a die! All it took all it has taken is the Open Door to Perception just a book man just reading words but words of truth from the great Historic Mr. Tom Wolfe. A journey , The Great Adventure of the Holy Dread – A man named Kesey and his earliest fantasy – LSD. What a song man whatta song To touch the heart and spirit and open – snap – my own inner – Gong! – Like inside my head, like LSD poured from the pages and entered – Feels like I’m on drugs man I feel split wide open Bright home light eyes of perception everything so big – the cushion on my lap the table by me the pen in my hand the words pouring from me like an athlete sprinting pounding the dirt every sense alive truly Alert to the core, the core of my being and all just because of a Truth First Hand reading. Alive man someone else’s journey has freed mind and inspiration comes burning wanting Needing to be told Creativity stifled for aeons Now comes bold unleashed untamed No conscious constipated thinking just free-flowing words as storm entering through brain not even a split second from brain to nerve to hand to written word free flow free fall free mind keep going all All constant this is how it should be should always have been and it has taken – Not t.v Not the words of Safe Suits not even peer groups not one of my generation has the Soul Courage AUDACITY of That Great Tribe from FOUR yes FOUR decades ago!
So all hail Kesey his vision his inner song, his tribe of Merry Pranksters that helped along that Movement man that Tumbling World of New Wave Perception alternative – no not thinking – Alternative Worlds! And all hail Tom Wolfe that great writer who put into Fantastical Triptical words the whole experience man the experience of their Untouchable Undescribable Unwordable Verve.
Ready to blast of to ride the rocket again man the inspiration is surreal like bright Pink Fire I want to keep spewing Mountain Ash rising, higher, suffusing individual flakes form not a blanket to suffocate and turn charcoal, grey, but keeping individual seperality – separate reality – hah! Don Juan, Carlos Castaneda – Have I finally got you? Do I at last understand? – Probably not, likely never! Yet it doesn’t matter ‘cos here, finally, are my words my words of truth billowing and blowing from a mind hurled into its true worth unfettered unchained unbolted unmaimed by conscientiousness tried pretentiousness that sickening of the soul that stifle of the poet that disease of every inner spirit not strong enough to break not knowledgeable enough to unchain and unmake what has been learned taught and what is right but there is no Right and Wrong only Perception of the mind. Evil exists sure there are the morally wrong but that’s a different story to the educated song so long! So long sparrow on the ground Let the great raven bear my stand-ard, stand hard let not thought take over the reality this pen, this mind has so far wrought – ring, ringing the bells of truth from Wanton imagination. I see I feel the air of mountains the breath the feeling the green the greatness yet I have never truly seen not with eyes and body, physically something I long for should do need before I die How can I let death take me before Nature’s Great Truth I spy? Ridiculous to think a mountain view in life never beheld – nor other cultures, journeys Great across the sea – all these Greats I am missing their accessibility shut, limited by practicality – money, preparation fear of unknown, unknown Times – It’s dangerous, fear for your life in countries you don’t know, internal strife – war, kidnap murder and rape frame our Fear our safety net our comfort zone Escape! How long I have longed to fly be free – could I truly unjail truly be me?

Time to stop just to be Later raise again the Mighty, the Great Sword of this eccentricity. LSD thank you, Kesey you the man, Wolfe you genius for unfettering, de-feathering this mind, this hand.

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