Sunday, August 31, 2014

Immersion.......

Immersed in the cocoon of uncertainty, levelling the playing fields of certainty, creating the rift in the abyss of being.

Usurped into the prerogative of choices, washed with the cool draught of submission, whilst being latently stunted in the onset of what is not.

Streamed and reamed against the banks of the river, the residue collects, as the onset of the roaring voices booms through the subconsciousness, into  a reality, of the now.

Savouring the flavours and hooks of choices, firmly embedded in the psyche, whilst playing their games of prejudicial playback and consistently wondering about the ins and outs of the resulting manifestations.

Words float inwards, impaling themselves in the thoughts, rotating through a reticent reality  and harboured in a place,that has forgotten the techniques of letting go and embracing the welcoming surrender of serenity.

Lighting and filling the lost footsteps of the shadows, as the screeching crows lead the way across the forest of possibilities and opportunities.

Bursting forth through the scented pine needles and mosses, discovering an innate sensation that seems to flow with one's footsteps as the incline increases and the lungs screech for the air of clarity, which hovers like a rainbow on the path.

The flaccid willpower engages itself, digging deeper as a dual vision presents itself, looking at oneself, taking the steps, feeling the physicality and having the overview of all, as each step follows another.

The sun reflects off the gargantuan boulders, as the  lone figure, staff in hand, makes their way towards the approaching vision of oneself.

The light flourishes and celebrates all with it's intenseness, as the details disappear in the dazzling brightness.

Free flow from the depths and the immersion of a cocoon, which has opened itself to the elements and disgorged it's contents on a wilful engaged audience.

The eyes open and a smile spreads in the joyousness of all.

Singing......

















Singing the words between the lines

Feats of bravado.......

Feats of bravado sing their timely praises against the cement cinder blocks of time, standing in their cool loneliness on the beaches of an era, long since forgotten.

A lone silhouette stands on the rocks, casting for the next plate of food.

Wisps of smoke curl out of the whitewashed chimney, as the candles flicker in the window with an undulating expectancy.

The floorboards creak and groan with the the wind as the sandblasted pillars stand tall, replicating the columns of a temple  and the bleached wood opens the eyes to a pattern and patina, exposing itself to a quiet surrender.

Sea gulls squawk as they fly on their dogfight missions across the beach, whilst some drop muscles on the rocks, hoping to snack the tasty morsels.

A mist slowly rolls in over the petulant waves, keeping a low profile, it gently caresses the land with it's blanket of mystery and fills the voids of space and time.

It glows and expands the light, touched by the magic wand of romanticised novels, playing themselves out to their inevitable destiny, whilst any fear is exacerbated in the darkness of an overactive imagination, devoid of the intricacies of a moment, gormandised in the presence of a surrendered now.

In the cross hairs of frailty and strength, both merge willingly and consummately in a moment of gifted awareness, making it's way through the distended belly of a courage bathed in a swathe of uncertainty, and yet, mulled and forged into an extrapolation of mindful willingness and intention, held on by an inexplicable knowingness, of  the essence  of causality.

Extending oneself in a context of relevance and relativity, where a grail of harmony fleetingly exists in each and every moment that is chosen and allowed to infiltrate the barriers, raised and built to protect,, burying the fear in a place which has little capacity for holding onto something, which spreads it's toxicity so convincingly and expertly, in the conundrum of existence

The prevailing sanity is left to it's own mechanisms of survival and the choices of leading, being led or pushed are an interpretation of the perspective that is garnered through the senses, that are attuned to a flow, which, when found, illuminates the moment of being.

Washed with the warmth of another day, the moments are absorbed into a timelessness, ushering in an unfolding awe of an essence.



Saturday, August 30, 2014

In the city.......

Strains and melodies from the past float serendipitously over the cobbled heart of the city, caught in the flux of strangers, dropped into a different context and awed into submission.

Perky smiles warm the streets as the obnoxiousness of the exhaust fumes permeate the inhalation of all.

Prone canvas deck chairs line the boardwalk awaiting their slumbering occupants with hysterical anticipation, as the sun brightens itself over the gloating mass of marauding wanderers.

Denim and leather accelerate themselves through the dream factory of inked imagination as the constant buzzing  of the machines leave their indelible mark.

Walking masses await an explanation as the guides sprout their own intimate knowledge of what is, only to be translated and then lost in translation of what was.

Corridors, long since forgotten, break their eerie silence, as the burdened walls release their secrets and reveal the scar tissue, overlaid with  the crumbling morality of the oblivious.

Unexpiring  plastic quenches the thirst of the fast paced as they pick up speed, freeing their hands and leaving the containers spinning in the breeze.

Sirens scream and embezzle the sanctity of the late afternoon, as the workers leave their daily grind, to take on their mantles of responsibility and fun.

The exercise guru's sweat and pant while others exercise their skills of consumption across the thin line of reality and unconsciousness.

Surrendered to the darkness, the city instigates it's own throbbing and pulsating beat, until that to, fades into the oblivion of darkness.

Cities, in the dynamic flux and throes of change, sometimes wallowing in the shallows of their own demons and other  times fast paced in their ability to regenerate the decay and give new life to some, whilst others plod forward doing their one impression that they know best, caught in the conundrum and bear trap  of life.