Category Archives: Spiritual

Circles around God

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On my way to the letterbox

I met this god

who knew me.

So I ran

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in fear because I

didn’t even know

myself the way he looked

through me.  Stone

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gods stare at nature un-

moved so I didn’t

run to them.  Money

gods take.  All the

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pleasure gods leave

me starving for

more and more… I want

more.  So I keep

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running around

the block knowing

he’s beside

the letterbox.  Knowing one

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day I’ll realise

this is stupid

stop and say

“Umm… Hi”

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dancing with her shadow

to Kenia, who hails from the land that gave us the incredible music of  Tom Jobim – keep dancing and painting Kenia

Visit her site.  It is a unique and beautiful space:  Poesia Torta

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the city hosts them all

in the depths

busy – between the tall dark handsome – institutions

they climb to find the desk with their name

becoming so successful

at hiding

their shadows.

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like an addict

they hide it

from each other

mostly from themselves

never truly successful

at disobeying its demands

all obsessive compulsives

now in socially acceptable ways

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some brave souls

walk their shadows in the park

where the bright sun mocks

but feels warm somewhat

sensing moments of comfort

when they visit her

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for this is where she dances

unafraid of hers

she paints her shadow

in bright colours

and speaks to it

like a friend

unafraid

they used to think her crazy

now she offers to paint

their shadows also

one day they will

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new made old made new

I am a new born baby boy

Closed eyes soft wrinkled skin

I am a bright green baby leaf

Awaiting opening

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I am a hand made Spanish bowl

Hot from the furnace flames

I am a woven flowing skirt

Undanced and yet untamed

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I am a vase of glass blown thin

With colours to be proud

I am a drop of summer rain

Made from the purest cloud

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I am a pure and sacred life

I’m made by hands of love

And yet I’m dirty, spoiled and torn

I’m bruised and hurt…  unloved

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I am scratched and clothed in tasteless cloth

Eyes filled with hard desire

I am scorched and dull from blazing sun

Thoughts of tomorrow tire

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I’m chipped and lain in darkened corner

Life never looked upon

I’m crumpled, used and soiled because

The life I chose to run

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I am broken, useless without form

My splendid colour stained

I’m dirty, muddied, poisoned with

The sting of acid rain

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I’m a hurt and feral broken beast

Because that’s what I chose

Why did I hurt this body new?

Was ignorant I suppose!

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Who would spoil such beautied form

Such hope filled eagerness?

Who would destroy a birthday gift

A child’s new liveliness?

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Who would deface and dent a car

Complete from showroom floor?

And who’d sit down to vile rot

Then stand and ask for more?

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So why do I, on bended knee

Suppose to do the same?

Why then do I refuse to see

This dark and sordid game?

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But who can stop this hated game

Of bringing self to ruin?

Ask who can turn the world apart

The axis it is screwing?

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There’re ways to wash the vileness

And I have tried them all

Ways to escape the emptiness

On hands and knees I crawl

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There’re times I can distract myself

From my condition horrid

There’s ways to cover up the hurt

Thick make-up for my forehead

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There’re times I can convince myself

That all is not so bad

Then quickly I’m brought back to hurt

I’m not so easily had

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So there I lie in loathsome grief

Brought on by my undoing

With distant thoughts of who I was

Now dejected.  No renewing

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“Do you want to be renewed?” said one

So clearly in red ink

“Do you want to be made new?”

Without much time to think

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“Of course” I said, into the dark

Not knowing who was there

I waited. Waited.  Was He gone?

Will I again yet dare?

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“Please… help me”  whispering aloud

My brokenness in doubt

Again a silence, stillness till

I stood and looked about

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My mind played tricks and yet was real

As real as I have known

A hope that I have never felt

Although no one had shown

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As time passed on the hope was grown

Inside my broken shell

Although the scratches hurt from tears

No longer life was hell

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Though skin was charred from scorching sun

I still enjoyed sunsets

The cracks became reminder marks

No longer grave regrets

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When stain had bled into my clothes

My anger slowed to boil

And gradually then I could see

Beyond the mud and soil

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A vase of scratches, chips and cracks

Still holds a perfect flower

A soiled woven crumpled skirt

Is danced with flowing power

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And then one day I met the voice

Who asked me those fine words

“It was you!” I whispered to myself

He smiled as though He heard

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My brokenness He did not see

But looked into my soul

And I could see that it was He

Who spoke and made me whole

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With tenderness and gentle touch

Embraced my broken frame

And it was known between us both

The life from which I came

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And it was known yet greater still

Although I’d known defeat

Renewed was I through His great words

And now I stood complete

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I am a new born baby boy

Closed eyes soft wrinkled skin

I am a bright green baby leaf

For each day’s opening

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I am a hand made Spanish bowl

Admired and acclaimed

I am a woven flowing skirt

Now danced and unashamed

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I am a vase of glass blown thin

New colours to be proud

I am a drop of summer rain

Sent from the purest cloud

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I am a pure and sacred life

One made by hands above

I am a soul renewed of hope

And now deeply in love

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