Racks my brain
racks my brain racks my-

because:
how why for what
reason
do we
so much in vain attempt
to
pin
things
down

not let them

be

Sixteen pages now covered
in my swirly writing,
untouched chalky leaves
rustle with veiled future



A story is yet to be told.

The table, engrained still life
Had a petrified heart, turned to stone
Etched oaken memories, of rooted love
Tantalysing zephyr pleasures, long gone
Arthritic dreams, decayed with age
Brittle rage, at emerald love forsaken
Lain naked, then stripped bare
Elderly severed roots, from their mother taken

Silent drops on the pool
     Motorcycle taxi
       Buddha mind

Sick and suffering they prayed
Sick and suffering is true

No, I'm not really a shaman
But I do like the poet's view

The country itself is sick
And the Demagogue is who

Reveals the cancer within
I think it's fatal too

Buddha mind is patient
Waiting, it can wait

Nations rise and fall
Western world not great

Silence on the ocean
Candidates debate

Silence on the ocean
Disappearing dates

The professors don't have much
The politicians have even less

The priests are mostly pedantic
They don't know I confess

The poets they keep trying
But the truth is nevertheless

In the end all is Silence
Can the Silence bless?