ACTIVELY ENGAGED IN THE ACT
The desperate hours begin with
‘i will write for nothing’, thanks Tom
do anything Go Swimming
but face reality a slow self-education
books, a yoga mat, difficult childhoods
fitting in trouble
always know no other
that heavy metal age
iron maiden fantasy rubble
Plant a flag on unstable ground; signs describe what is real but we’re still none the wiser.
Re-think these rotting days will last forever. So much time to get nothing done in. What pivotal moments will occur?
Accelerate into Autumn
overnight lightning pinned electrical bouncing from blue walls.
So much rain; have we flooded?
Trying mid-morning to gloomily transcribe the blood pressure behind the eyes
into something relatable or even readable.
What’s up with that anyway?
Poetry that keeps on asking questions that nobody could answer ever.
Easy, right?
New voices merge in noisy interaction, like the magpies and newly arrived green parakeets. On their way to the forest.
Slowly, delicately, with precision we pick apart the day; attend to what needs attending to; “show up”, as Adriene would say.
To be present in your own life sounds absurd but so many are not.
How would you know anyway?
Questions unanswered.
