The Artist

If no man fall asunder

then let no man stand apart

the one who only had a fleeting glimpse

enjoys the subtle art

 

The paint and brush and easel stand

before the man who’s thinking

the finished piece, like artist’s hand

shakes before its sinking

 

Art – thy name is woman –

‘fifty shades of grey’

the passion of a suitor lost

should not be lost this way

 

Like a rope entangled

a life lived is like an hour

like the wild garden blooming

the plant – budding – brings a flower

 

Is it black and white – definitive

or is it made of colour

does exploration start at home

or stranger’s cottage, over yonder

 

Within the cottage stands a piece –

art no man had savoured

not ‘til artist, on his deathbed

was thy work in favour

 

When people come

they will not leave

like leaves on the ground

in Autumn

 

Oh, if only he

was here to see

the boat anchored

in his harbour

 

‘If only’ –

two words strong enough

to bring a storm

of force

 

Need not be lost

in frigid frost

stand up –

and hold the course.

More than myself

Can I create more than myself
And if I can, must I?
Is livelihood (like solitude)
About to pass me by?

At times we associate
With a view  – a sight to see
A sense of fatal curfew –
Of our own mortality

Can I build a house to share –
Must I share it once it’s built?
As accidental as a romance
That is driving by me still

Still as can be, in situ –
What situation is
Movement denies my sense of self –
Of soft and supple bliss

Where did she go –
Where is she now?
Is one’s life a curse
To spend it without paying forward –
Could anything be worse

For time will never stay at rest –
It waits for no man – sure, not I
Hasten, hustle, hurry –
Catch up!
Before I die.

But a second

Absence of a tryst to love

Does not abandon thee

From amorous encounters

In a world of make-believe

 

Absence of a single thought

Wants not a lesser being

Yet, in time one cannot become

What one cannot see

 

For sight to some means knowledge

Powered by the mind

If one be blind, does it decry

To be of lesser kind?

 

Yet absence of a sense to some

Means stronger touch and taste

A life lived but a second

Is the kind one ought not waste.

I think of thought…

What do I think of thought

Or can I only feel

A touch as tender as the breeze

Or hard as bovine –

‘fore the veal

What do I think of thought

What does she think of me

As hard to the touch as a scab

Or soft and supple

Alike thee

Bereft of kindness –

Or genteel

Like an edelweiss to me

She sees the sun

And makes it real

Glistening – delights the sea

Gravitate to Earth without a force

Magic sensed and written on

Below – the park – a round-a-bout

A tree, with branches

Bark and frond

That listen to the overt mood

The cumbersome-ness of the room

They hear disorderly array

And come to right things very soon

What do I think of thought

What does she think of me

A touch so tender as my mood

So precious as the sea

changing life’s meaning

Every time I find the meaning of life they change it.

That’s the title of Daniel Klein’s book, published a couple of years ago now but one I return to whenever I’m thinking too far ahead of the here and now.

You see, Klein believes that we should all be more like Snookers, his dog, that, sadly, is now only with us in memory alone. Snookers used to think about the present, not the past, and certainly not the future; a sure way to enjoy the happiness of life in all its forms, something the great philosopher, Epicurus, would be proud of, to be sure.

Epicurus is a good friend of Daniel Klein’s, Klein having written about him previously and enjoyed his philosophical aptitude over the years. His ‘brainy quotes’ have lasted since BC (Before Christ) and he is finding his way back into popularity once again. Why shouldn’t he? After all, Epicurus is the man who said;

Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.

‘Uhh’, I hear you say.

Worry not, dear friends. What Epicurus is really saying is be grateful for what you have now because it wasn’t long ago you never thought you’d get it. So don’t think about what the future holds for it might reduce the happiness to be found in the present.

Or, put another way;

Enough is never enough for the man for whom enough is too little

But that ‘brainy quote’ has a negative connotation to it and although it, too, comes from the lips of Epicurus, I’m sure even he would prefer the former to the latter.

I came across another quote this morning, from a different source altogether, my very own blog. It read;

Do we spend Life learning how to Live and the next life living the life we Learnt?

I can’t attribute this saying to anyone in particular, and certainly not Klein or Epicurus, yet I can’t take credit myself, either. Suffice to say, it has the ring of truth to it.

For the non-religious amongst us, it may be a hard ‘pill’ to swallow, but for the rest I’m sure there’s a sense of true belief in taking time to get it right just to know that this life is the dress rehearsal that gives us the chance in the second to right the wrongs we so effortlessly made in the first.

Yet for those of us that know where we are headed once we pass, (and it surely won’t be to the ingress through the pearly gates) I guess we better do as Daniel Klein, Epicurus, Snookers, and my own dog, Kahlua, would do; live life to the fullest, for we won’t see its like again.

Embrace the teachings of Epicurean thought; live modestly but well and tranquility will find you happy in the here and now. For the future comes upon us sooner than we think, and it will be the present, whilst the present as we knew it will be passed.

the path less travelled…

He rose above the helpless throng
He was only one among a crowd
He heard a calling, 'twas a song
Timely, he could not disregard

You've come to me for rationale
You've come to me for saviour
No-one else can take the stand
You've come to me, the one you favour

The steps on which we stagger
From one level to the next
Like climbing up the corporate ladder
Feeling e'er, between, betwixt

The next step up he could not see
The frond led him to the money tree
Ladder of wealth, mendacity
The pathway opened unto me

Who and what and where we were
Why and how we hit upon
Invited, I failed to confer
I took the path less travelled on

Teach

Remind me to take instruction

From the antonym of him

To take my teachings from

The supposition of a fact

 

Remind me to teach myself to learn

From the better part of man

Someone who can read and write

Who has a lesson plan

 

Remind me ne’er to listen

To the man who can’t himself

Remind me to leave his book

Hidden from the shelf

 

Remind me to ignore the man

Who’ll beseech at any cost

Who lectures, says it’s my way

Or the highway will be lost

 

Remind me to be thankful

For what I could go without

Remind me to welcome lost souls in

When others shut them out

 

Remind me ne’er to err on caution’s side

Hesitant, I stay

I should be enticed to wonder

To see the sunlight in the day

 

Remind me to cherish

What I never thought I’d love

To see peace at time of war

To welcome and betroth

 

Teachings and instruction

From the synonym of her

The antonym of ‘I know best’

Is the teacher who tells me;

‘As you were.’

Poem – Belief

Belief is what you see outside

That stands upon the scroll

And pens charity, upon the page

And continues on, enthralled

 

And as the chirping bird is heard

An idea comes to mind

That the morning mist in glory’s gate

Could never deem to find

 

It’s heard amongst the forest

Where the kookaburra’s king

Yet, rarely in the sunburnt land

It’s said most anything

 

Yet as the sunbeam shines

It’s seen to say a prayer

It’s hard to know, from soul to soul

If immortality is there

Oh promises

Oh promises, oh promises

Why are there so few?

Oh promises, empty promises

I haven’t but a clue

 

A leap of faith describes belief

Why is it hard to find?

To lie, to cheat, to steal

Comes easily to human-kind

 

Optimism beaten

By pessimism’s sword

Negate the pathway of success

Reinforce it moving forward

 

Forgive me for forgetting

Why can I not recall?

Memory tries to shut me out

From everything and all

 

A standard test of kindness

Can loss bring it back to me?

Perhaps it’s lost forever

Perhaps it’s wandered out to sea

 

I see it from a distance

Why aren’t I allowed up close?

My manner lost to arrogance

My feelings bellicose

 

But underneath the ocean tide

Compassion lies in store

Empathy waded out to sea –

I stand on the shore.