HIDE AND SEEK

unrecognizable-woman-closing-eyes-with-headscarf-4177425love was never an abstraction
could not be laid to rest
for love was never born

but forgotten by the morn
or soured and stuffed with scorn

so don’t be shy of your inaction
do not cry for what is lost
for love is just around the corner

behind the curtain
in the dresser drawer

to be found, but not reborn

INFINITE

i am the first stretch in the morning
the first drag of your cigarette
i am the love you can’t deny
the sharply drawn breath
i am the sweat upon your brow
the gravity that holds you down
i am the anchor in the port
the decanter’s sediment
i am the earth ambling around
the sun, for fun, i’m infinite

arise

arise
to sunshine tickling the flora,
the oaks and the pines
manifesting an aura,
the chills down your spine
run rapid like bobsleds,
in a race to the finish-
line up and be placed
on society’s conveyor belt
or see through the hoax,
our vision was tunneled,
our best efforts coaxed,
the focus on what’s next,
steals soul from the moment,
pilfered and pawned off
to a future that only
exists in idealist mind-flurries and fawning
at the hope one can own it.
lay still now and ponder
wonder and awe –
lay still now shapeless until the dawn,
through razor sharp bone-rattling winters –
normalise.
lay still now until you feel fit to
arise.

hard truths — mental health, stigma and the transitionary nature of life

“have you ever stopped to consider how many people didn’t screw up for you to be sitting here tonight?”

mental health is a topic that is much more comfortable to avoid. it is a hard truth. as down as one may feel, i fully believe that the nature of the universe is an on/off system. everything is constantly in transition. even us. especially us. but yet, this is a topic we don’t want to address, and i get that to an extent. where i come from, we don’t talk about this. we are emotionally repressed. traditionally it has been more one-sided, with 8 out of 10 suicides in Ireland being men. recently however women have caught up in this tragic race to the end. Ireland now ranks among the highest rates of female suicide in the EU.

so in honour of Womens’ Day, i would like to express this: the tide is turning. somehow, we are becoming more repressed and unable to deal with the struggles of life. i love the bones of every single one of you. i am blessed to have you in my life. not everyone has this — as Terence says, there is only one true problem — “we are inappropriate to ourselves. we are ill with ego. we have a narcissism that we can’t put down. the thing that makes you happy eventually makes you unhappy. nothing lasts.” to all my brothers and sisters out there, please realise the transitional nature of life. our state can change very quickly, but never, ever lose faith. practice gratitude and appreciate what you do have, for we are truly lucky to be in the situation we’re in… looking at the bigger picture.

please don’t be ashamed or afraid to speak. there is no shame in feeling down and out. isolation can never be the answer. there’s already been too many promising young lives ended prematurely, for reasons that many of us will never be able to comprehend. please, know that you are appreciated, and know that you are loved, and the one thing we all have in common is that we suffer. suffering is relative so don’t compare yours to others — as Roosevelt said, “comparison is the thief of joy”, and this is a two way street. do what you need to do but please, don’t give up. you are valued and you are loved. stay strong. x

witnesses

swanning down soft focus lantern-lit streets —

full of sleep — under night’s blanket thrown,

god’s finger raised to his lips in a hushing pose,

staggering silence sat upon its golden throne,

 

ambled aimlessly around now for one too many summers,

yet still; never lingered quite long enough to simmer,

fawned in the shimmering headlights of the oncoming,

overawed in the presence of life’s ongoing glimmer,

 

in this moment:

the ancient holy dance of playful particle vibration resonates… recalling –

in this moment:

the dust which we will all return to; flickers in reflection at the eyes of recognition,

synchronicity is speaking… insistently and softly.

you don’t have to answer — dear witness: only listen.

 

 

originally posted on honest.cash