In the labyrinth of the subconscious,
there's a mystery that eludes--
life is not definable, it is but suggestive

Tedious is repetition
I will only speak once
more could cause confusion
I will shut up---none need look askance

Nice to meet you, Dr Solange,

Life has thousands of facets and affects people in different days. Writers, especially poets,  see life  more transcendentally than prose-writers as poetry, like music, speaks beyond the bounds of words and often seeks to express the inexpressive, the mysterious and the fathomlessness of feelings and emotions.

At the pinnacle, the true poet is almost a mystic.

  I am a learner and still don't qualify as a 'poet'.  

Best wishes from Melb

Boatman looks at sky

dimmed by thick blanket of clouds

his heart longs for home.

This is the most deleterious part

of being over--positive

hopes and expectations are raised

beyond ability---such could bring much grief!

My aim in life is simple-- do the doable to the best of my ability--not to measure myself against others,  for life is not about competing with or outdoing others but self-becoming.  

I can't lead nor change the world and should only be concerned with creating meaning for myself - it's in the humble pursuit of ordinary daily things that I can find my worth, self-respect and, none the least, my limitations.  

Let me remain an ordinary person, live an ordinary life and die happy and content as the world goes by without me being noticed or known for I would have deemed this life of mine to been lived in the way I most value and cherish.  Death is the ultimate humility and has to be embraced and accepted -- it is not a blemish nor a killjoy but rather the summary and sublimation of a life that has been lived in fulness and  gratitude.

The grey areas of love

even those who love most will deny

feelings are enemies of truth

who says love doesn't lie?

Early spring flowers

sprouting in faraway dale

against dawn's blue sky

It has an equal right
as reason--
unreason!

Why would I need will
  when my heart is restful and still?

You are the continent undiscovered
what else is there to be explored?

Kindness that has to be reminded
is no cause to be celebrated

I waited and his footsteps I heard
love is silent-- it needs not a single word

Your inspiration only you can create

it does not rush forth for your sake

Even those who know less
can be among the best!

One man's meat
is another's poison
when it comes to money
in agreement is every person

Music is the gateway to the highest spirituality

the eternal consolation and the most blessed grace

in her generous caress and imperishable beauty

it flourishes and enchants in any clime or place

Nature has secrets

there's medicine in plants and leaves

humans have limits

A mouthpiece of others I can't be
even if I err, it wouldn't be folly

Am I a pessimist or optimist?

neither-- both combined--

it depends on what's on in the day's list

and how I respond with both heart and mind

Colours, lines and shapes

come together in collage

art is images

Red-hot firmament

its colours dazzle the eyes

how long will this last?

David absorbs the elemental in what he is exposed to, he becomes alive and his words spring from the gushing fountain of his heart.......All great poets must have within themselves aspects of the spiritual and these are best articulated through poetry as prose would be an inadequate substitute. I often return to Wordsworth for inspiration as he was the very embodiment of this phenomena (Prelude, 'Immortality Ode'). The poet is the mouthpiece of the divine, the mysterious and the indefinable just as what I find in the works of all the great symphonists. In Mahler's symphonies (he had a tenth as well), I always sense there's something more which I can't
exactly grasp....and this makes them even more profound.

They need not
know me
but would have
a clue
of what I am
through my poetry
and similarly
others such I can
to a fair degree, see

furthermore
I'd still be happy
when with what
I write, they disagree

In becoming my own friend
no enemy do I need fear
allied to the very end
my life's path is sure and clear

Lush olive orchard
standing on what was a swamp
patience rewarded

Should I say this and am I correct?

There's sweetness in suffering and, if so,
suffering is to be desired and not to be escaped from.

Even Sisyphus found meaning in his suffering.

Woman in chamber
her heart flutters with summer:
come, my sweet lover

Love is a conversation incomplete
the unsaid words --they are the most sweet

Woman behind trees

is it an apparition?

artist's fantasy

My life consists of two parts-

as actor and spectator

I've to juggle in between

they don't come together

Slender trees by pond
against light of feeble dawn
day starts with a yawn

I will be caught
  in the end
  and chastised
  if I write
  to be recognised
  for in that guise
  a victim I will fall
  to silly pride

a  simple stringer
of words and thoughts
through the tumble
of life
a scribbler
a dabbler
a story-teller
on the insignificant side

let the real bards sing
I'll listen in deference
in humility abide

for a small voice
am I
that truth
I shouldn't deny

I will tread gently
and slowly
poetry dislikes poets
in too much hurry

Twitter, twitter, twitter
because so very bored is the writer
neither hither nor thither
twittering doesn't remove the languor

By then
we'd no longer belong
to nor need each other
and taken different paths
to the eternal unknown

the most sublime
is never spoken

there would be
no reunion
but silence
all-pervading
dead is every note
and song

words stop
they evaporate
into nothingness

farewell

the heart is at rest
nothing else
need be discovered

I don't want to stay too long
lest I were to do you more wrong

Throw me to the tiger

I will be its rider

Throw me to the crocodile

I will make it smile.



Throw me to the bear

With me its honey it will share

Throw me to the elephant

I'll order it to return to the mountain.

What's the colour of the artist's mind?
How does he see into the object or scene?
To what does his imagination bind?  
Must his heart be still and serene?

Light drifts through forest

dissolves layer of thick mist

magical ambience

Grey empty cottage

watched by spring-flowers and trees

old couple long gone

Hidden faraway

gentle hills and wild bushes

no one remembers

By the deserted beach we walked
not a single word we said
the weary sky had lost its early shine

A strange thing
happened this morning
through my bedroom- window I looked
heard a robin singing

the melody seemed
to be saying
'Wake up, leave your chamber
love,  beauty and wonder** is waiting'

later in the day on the door
the postman was knocking
with a registered letter
which read: 'Your writing

has won the first prize
your poetry book we'll be publishing
this is the agreement
please sign, don't keep us waiting!'.

..and I,  in the river of life
         will follow its ceaseless tide
         into the far unknown
         the end of which I don't decide

Andrea,

Congrats on your new role!

Teaching STILL is the noblest profession.
My dad and my elder brother were both teachers and my immediate younger brother was a professor of maths for many years.

I taught part-time.  In teaching,  I came into contact with open young minds and admire their innocence, curiosity and enthusiasm.

The future of mankind does not rest on technology but the flourishing of new humane ideas. I am a humanist residing in Melb.  

Best wishes

Peter

Dear Tom


Western existentialism is generally gloomy unlike Chinese philosophy ---both Taoism and Confucianism never speak of despair, angst or the predicament of living----such philosophy is immensely practical and can be followed by anyone--both sages speak of the Tao (The Way/the Path)---walk in the Tao and you will live in righteousness, beneficence and compassion.

  The difference between  the Tao of Taoism and that of Confucianism lies in this:  the Tao of the former relates to the spiritual and metaphysical while that of the latter relates to the human being in society and benevolent governing.  

A meeting of Nobel Prize winners in Paris in 1988 made this observation:

If mankind is to survive, it must go back 25 centuries ago to tap the wisdom of Confucius.

I am not a student of philosophy and this is all I can say

humbly

Peter

As there's the Yang
so must be the Yin
when held in balance
nothing will wear thin

By the deserted beach we walked

not a single word we said

the weary sky had lost its early shine

it was there farewell you bade



in our hearts we knew in brokenness

what we desired we ne'er could have had

love-vows and pledges had short memories

those who love most the saddest tears they must shed

Not wise, Dr Sellars ,but curious, imaginative and quite intuitive.

Life is too complex and reason has vast limits. Some ignorance is healthy, too much knowledge is a burden as it encourages rumination and speculation (this wasters time) and also often leads to pride,  arrogance and bigotry. That's why the intellectual mind is not a happy one.  You well know geniuses and the smartest people suffered/suffer from mental problems----Schumann, Rachmaninov, Tchaikovsky, Beethoven,  Donizetti, Mahler, Ivor Gurney, Nietzsche, Van Gogh, John Clare, Churchill, Lincoln (he contemplated suicide), Wittgenstein (I thought of suicide every day--2 of brothers took their own lives), John Stuart Mills, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath, Tolstoy, Ernest Hemingway (too his own life), ......Back home, Les Murray, Michael Leunig, Sculthorpe, a former Premier of WA.....suffered/suffer from depression......more next time.  I gave 6 talks on happiness in 2018, not as a guru but as one who talks from experience....when I launched my 5th book IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF ZEN- THE PATH TO A CALMER AND HAPPIER LIFE, sold in 14 countries and rated 5 star by 8 book-dealers.  
Please excuse me,  I got carried away.....

sincerely Peter