Saturday, 24 August 2013

Remembering Imaginings

William Blake

“If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.” 

 -  William Blake

Biochemically speaking, 
(Which isn't often, personally speaking.)
Memory and imagination are the same,
Well this I found  a wonderful claim!
For some memories appear as if imagination's stirrings,
Indeed some imaginings send memory a whirring.
And down the crooked corridor of broken dreams,
The light buzzing and crackling having lost its beam,
Drifting through the cobwebs of each cell of  mind,
The imaginings remembering, dreams left behind.
Now picturing Huxley speak of mind at large,
Collective consciousness swiftly taking charge.
For in his own private experimentation,
Previously unknown realms started to awaken,
Quoting Blake's 'Doors of Perception' to further define,
And his findings went something along the following lines -
In our daily lives we perceive solely,
Necessary signals, not mind at large wholly.
But when cerebral functioning is reduced,
A new state of consciousness is induced,
Where facets not pertaining directly to existence,
(And we've learnt therefore, to meet with resistance,)
Are released, manifest and unfold,
Stirrings of told combined with untold,
And we are mind at large collectively,
Remembering all, seeing all through connectivity.
So then we are inherent in all moments of the past,
And in all moments yet to come now approaching fast.
And that through this; all is indeed in all -
This brings to mind a Hindu idea I now recall, 
For atman; the soul; the inner or true self,
 Meets Brahman; pure consciousness; the Supreme Self.
So add to that imagination and memory are the same,
Ultimate unity seems not such a distant claim. 
For to every person at all times we're implicitly connected,
Not solely to distinct people we have elected.
And all are all and of all and in all.
Infinite potential in each one of us all. 

All Will Be With You Yet

When your heart is set, 
And your mind is stirred.  
Bow leaps as arrow soars,
The dream is in sight. 
When your mind's eye drifts,
And future flashes,
Forward to your hopes,
And you're sowing the seeds, 
Planting and yielding, 
Dreaming and planning,
Working and hoping, 
And hope breeds further hope.
For today's aims,
Are tomorrow's celebration.
Now rolling with the waves, 
Where you're being directed, 
And know all you're giving will never be lost. 
Though it may not form the picture of your mind's making, 
The fabric of the picture it will form will be of the same forms. 
For side roads appear on the great highway of fate, 
And things may take a wandering venturing drift, 
But there's not just one route that leads the way, 
For it's bringing you ever closer, 
To your natural place.
And hope breeds further hope, 
For today's aims, 
Are tomorrows celebration. 
And it will come, all good things will come.
All will be with you yet.

Sunday, 18 August 2013

Monet's Water Lilies

Monet painted Water Lilies; a vast collection of artworks in his latter years in order to immortalise his beloved garden. He was, by that time, suffering with cataracts, and as well as his general vision becoming increasingly limited, was completely colour-blind. Despite this, he managed to produce the wonderful, and now world-known series of paintings.

Paint strokes to canvas in a vast collection,
Artwork stirring a profound connection.  
For through his last years brought his garden to view,  
Precise and painstaking recreation as new.  
And cataracts meant eyesight was quickly to fade,  
Reading labels on paint jars to ensure the right shade.
Yet the beauty he transcribed is ours now to see,  
His great accomplishment through adversity.  
Vivid and fragile and detailed and pure,  
A reminder there's nothing we cannot endure.  
Leave our mark on the world despite challenges faced,  
We deem them our weakness; perhaps they're our grace.  
So know that your dreams are yours for the taking,  
And the life that you have is of your own making.

Monday, 5 August 2013


The great mystical thunder rolling, leaping flashes overhead
Lightning streaking skies so you stumble from sleep-struck bed. 
You feel that trembling heat calm, with awakened breeze, 
And the lungs expand, breath deepens with a fresh-discovered ease. 
The calm had clung and hung, with a heaviness of heart.  
But marveling the skyline now, the storm's great work of art -  
For humidity had struck, 
And the mind had somehow stuck, 
And we'd lost the sense of ease, 
Several moments never seized.  

The great mystical thunder rolling, leaping flashes overhead, 

Lightning streaking skies clears heavy heart and confused head.  
So blow it away, 
Blow it all away,  
Blow this all away, 
Throw it all away. 
For you can revisit, 
But you can never change it -  
The shadows of the past, 
The shadows of your past,  
The shadows that have passed,  
The shadows how they last.  

The great mystical thunder rolling, leaping flashes overhead,  

Lightning streaking skies,to now each moment led. 
Let the lightning blast the sky,  
Let the bolts descend on high, 
Let the air be true and clear, 
And let the earth revere.   
Let the heavens open, sending forth a mighty rush, 
Let the rains fall in torrents and the earth be cooled to hush, 
Let your soul be flooded, cresting wave on turbulent sea, 
Let your flesh awaken and your spirit to be free, 
Let go of the ego and venture to live in fear, 
For safety is an image and image a thin veneer. 
Let the storms blast the landscape, 
And imagination roam, 
And let us all find cover in the place we can call home.

Cuts Make A Resounding Success

And so I heard provision is cut, 
And soon we saw it, for every cause has an effect.

And so I heard services are cut, 
Contracted work, 
And soon we saw it, for every cause has an effect. 

And so I heard the police force are cut, 
Man power, 
And soon we saw it, for every cause has an effect.

And then I heard the level of 'recorded' crime has decreased, 

And they called it a resounding success,
In the place we deny cause and effect.

Seeking Perfection

We look to perfection to epitomise our yearnings and legitimise our journeys.
We speak of perfection as an end-result, a change, a journey-point to which all things are headed.
We seek perfection and believe it to be immortalised and permanent.
Indeed we find perfection -
Though only in echoes, glimpses, and fragments - Transitory and ephemeral.
Subject to the same fragilities, circumstances, perceptions, time and constant changes we ourselves are.
Change; The only true permanence.
We speak of perfection and know nothing of its aesthetic.
Entirely subjective and even in each subject; ever-changing.

Change; the only true permanence.
So tonight, let’s not speak of perfection, let’s speak of acceptance