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Rigmarole Oct 2016
Blue is the colour 
I see and feel
it’s caught in my throat 
my hearts reveal
no words can release 
my mind is blocked
from expressing it's true Self
that is it's want
to sit is the solution
it dissolves all desires
to be patient 
to be potent
to dampen the fires
the dryness of life 
makes a person hard
to cry tears like oceans
will soften that shard
it’s not for me to decide 
what’s right or wrong
but to bear witness 
absorb
to sing my song
with words that vibrate
for me alone
I will break through the precepts
that others condone
and sit as I am 
in magenta tones
to live with the light
I call that my home
Rigmarole Sep 2016
I find pleasure in the smallest of things
in the glass like wings that a cicada brings
and from the small brown bird in springtime when she sings

I am amazed at the little things
like the slate blue sails of a boat in flight
and a moth who flies into the bright light

I fall in love on a daily basis with feathers I find in the oddest of places
and the ocean spray that splashes the faces
of giggling people in boats at the races
Bob
Rigmarole Oct 2016
Bob
We walked the trail alone we thought
Until we heard an axe strike knot
A young man it seemed with strength of ox
He was wise and bright as a fox

His hand was soft his skin was smooth
No worry it seemed dried that fountain of youth
But on reflection we realised 
This man had knowledge from paradise 

We talked and laughed and thanked that man
For clearing wood with attitude of can
We knew his life in those moments of trust 
We heard stories of war and love and lust

As small stones drop into enquiry waters
Sink deep and settle and move with order
His life force moves across the world
As his ripple lives and lasts and is heard

His vibration will continue his soul a force
To inspire and encourage us all back to the source
In memory of Bob Webber of the Bob Webber trail in Pennsylvania. Thank you Bob for all you thought me in just moments standing in your company in the piece of the world you protected so well
Rigmarole Aug 2016
Buy me the Moon

A small boy walks with Mum having fun
On foot paths bathed in summer sun
He has something on his mind he want’s to express
And try to find the words without being a pest

He saw it you see the other day
In the shop down the road in a display
It was golden, it was silver, it was precious and round
And this little boy knew it cost more than a pound

He thought hard and deep, he ponders long and hard
And came up with just who would be happy to reward
He waited until his Mum made the weekly call
And hovered with patience until it was his turn to talk

Nana would you….
em,
Nana I need…
uh,
Nana could you….
em
Nana please!

Could you buy me the moon, it’s in the shop
I want to see it each morning when I wake up
One day when I am big I’ll go there and see
Just who lives on this shiny ball of mystery
Moon, children, Nana, present, grandchild, innocence, love
Rigmarole Oct 2016
On a whim one day we took the car
And drove for miles and miles, quite far
To visit a place, a sanctuary
For cats and dogs and all things hairy

All three of us without a plan
Had never been best friend as man only can
We had no clue when disembarking of all the curs
Alone there skulking and marking

The couple who had come on holiday
Decided to stay when confronted by strays
And in their house they were inundated
With bowls and beds and little bodies mutilated

In one cage a ball of fur hid and retreated
Into the shadows and disappeared
I failed to notice this little hound
Instead shed tears for all around

With anxious steps from Helena and Remy  
We were led to a cage much bigger and roomy
Where inside seemed to hide a huge Bear
Who smiled and sniggered and appeared not to care

This one we took out for a walk
But before that we asked who could not talk
And from the cage the most pitiful thing
With one broken leg and fear heartbreaking

We bundled them both out that day
And bathed and fed and loved them forever
And still today
For our four legged rescue dogs, they rescued us, thank you to Ash Animal Rescue, Wicklow, Ireland
Rigmarole Feb 2018
Dear Douglas so wise and kind
You know you blow my mind
With your black eyes and shining bright soul
You have helped me fill a very deep hole

With knowledge and wisdom that I have absorbed
No memory of words you've spoken can be recalled
But simply a knowing of what is right and wrong
My soul rejoices and sings your song

I’m grateful beyond words to know your voice
To feel its vibration, it was my choice
To open and welcome new ideas of old
And grow and develop myself into gold
Rigmarole Sep 2016
my mind is not mine I cannot see
I’m held within a cage of lost liberty
my days are not my own
them seem to be controlled
by people far too wealthy I'm told

my nights are filled with dreams
that warn of time fleeting
of heart ripped and torn
a body that longs to dance airborne
and move to express itself
with no one to approve or ignore

I look with admiration
at dolphins presentation
of joyous jumps and gleeful communication
and see their lives free of limitation
as a talisman of my renunciation

with closed eyes I lie still
and look behind to see all that fills
alone and all one
my chains are broken
and on the cliff edge
I jump
to be awoken
Just a note: I'm not going to throw myself off a cliff edge, my partner thought this was literal, no it's of course metaphorical ;-) trust the unknown....
Rigmarole Sep 2016
All to readily I disagree
in spite of knowledge deep within me
to vex myself in such a way 
challenges and makes me disobey

Too short too quick I drop into responses 
but only to raise the heckles of dunces 
and engage to rage a million nuances
yet still I continue until I find
that one person that I can easily bind

A communication that’s easy to shift
that’s rewarding uplifting and holds a gift
to bring together inspired fresh thoughts 
and with new minds on these rare occasions 
when the like meets the like 
rewards me enough and entices celebrations
Rigmarole Sep 2016
I am as delicate as a flower
made of ice
fine petals
gleaming in the sun
face turned
not knowing the fate ahead
I smile and shine and reflect
and just as the sun illuminates my face
I disappear without a trace
Rigmarole Feb 2019
I remember, everything.

From the time before I was born, that time when I was in the warm, dark, tight place where I could hear my mothers heart beat and where I could feel her loving embrace all around me.

I also remember she wanted me out, into the bright, white light of the day, to a place where I could live out my potential, for it was a great and momentous life I was to live.

The place where I sit now is where she gave birth to me. She pushed me out and promised to keep a watchful eye over me as I grew. She nourished me, and the elements fed me, they washed me, and kept me warm. Brother wind, sister rain, father sun, my loving family gathering around me, moulding me into maturity, my shape and form developed over time.

I grew taller, so high I reached into the heavens and grew dizzy in it’s atmosphere. I grew lofty and wise, and my dominion over all frightened many, and many died at my hands when they tried to conquer me.

I held my position for a long, long time. Time passed slowly. I watched the world change around me, the sun rose over head, and set, the moon rose and her radiance made the most of my ageing, withered face.  I learned the rhythms of these universal life forces and they became my friends. I could feel the vibration of life coming up from below me, from above me, from within me.

I knew everything.

And as I wept I took this knowing with me, in the little rivulets of tears that ran down my face, eventually finding their way to lakes and oceans, for the fish to know me, and for you, to drink me in, and hold me in your hand as a smooth white stone.
#remember #mountain #life
Rigmarole Sep 2016
she stood there on the side
blond curls bouncing with pride

Get it! Get it!
arms flung about announcing
pink shoes and blue jeans worn
with attitude of a more senior form

Get it! Get it!
before it’s too late
Get it! Get it!
the tide won’t wait

orange ball floating
being drawn in and out
as she stood there ordering
and starting to shout

a small group are playing
and arranging their roles
for a future life being
determined by personalities bold

Get it! Get it!
as blue shoes are soaked
in salty water and laughter provoked
all ends in happy joyfulness neat

but some are more happy
with their dry feet
Rigmarole Jan 2018
I went to the ocean today
It was warm and muggy, I longed for the spray

We drove the short distance to park
Then took our time to look for the shark

With a towel, surf board and shades
It does not take much to make the most of the place

I picked up a straw on the way to the shore
I thought of the moments of pleasure it gave just before

So many at the beach this time of year
So many enjoy plastic cups filled with cheer

My feet hit the sand, it’s warmth filled my soul
The sound of the gulls filled my head as they soared

Pink beach towel spread out, I positioned myself
Watched as children laughed and played for their health

When my skin became hot I decided to go
Into the surf crashing to and fro

First steps are tentative, the braver I become
As the warm ocean laps around my tum

Seaweed strands wrap round my legs with
Burst ballon strings and single use bags

Bird feathers are scattered and head for the sea shore
I dive beneath waves through bubbles am born once more

As people we live the way we want
We must incorporate our waste in agreement

Otherwise we have no luxuries you see
No straws to make our fizzy drinks quite so fizzy

No lids to hold our mommas milky coffee
No plastic bags to carry our goods from the shop so cocky

So embrace the ocean and all that lies within
But do it now before it’s turned into one mega bin
No excuse for single use
Rigmarole Sep 2016
With eyes squeezed closed tight
I wrung both my hands
And thought I had found myself
Cast adrift alone in far off lands

I slowly opened one eye a slot
And quickly realised I’d rather have not
I had wandered deep into a forest glade
Following the sound a warbler had made

And when I looked down I was amazed
To see bluebells dancing between grassy blades
Each bell seemed to call a certain sound
Ringing sweetly to me from all around

A bright gleaming light shot through the trees
And all about me the birds and bees
I began to feel a joy not known before
And allowed it to seep through every pore

I looked far beyond the bluebell haze
And thought I’d slipped into ecstatic daze
For there in front of holly trees
Stood a creature not know for centuries

It’s beauty and strength were felt at length
With eyes so bright I stepped back in fright
It’s mane was glorious it’s nature raw
And between it’s ears it’s magnificence I saw

For purity and grace come not often to face
With some thing so wild only a maiden can chase
I reached out my hand to offer it peace
And was surprised when it walked to me with such ease

It knelt down beside me and lay in the grass
I lingered a moment and time seemed to pass
We were lost in our day dream for ever some say
Just me and my legendary horse for the day
Red
Rigmarole Sep 2016
Red
Far away is not far enough
The red dust covers my feet
I walk and leave prints
But no one sees

Far away and forgotten
I float inches above the earth
My brooding eyes look about
Too many faces turn away

Red is the earth and red is my heart
I long for messages from afar
The spirits of the land whisper
And let me know that I am ok

I turn my back on past and present
Residing in this rocky place
Where what happens happens
Outside my being outside my space

It is my home and I belong
It gives me peace
Where I sing my song
I tried to drop into the spirit of ancestors in the red centre when I wrote this, it's makes me sad, but full of hope
Rigmarole May 2016
feeling the pull
holding ankles
i can't fight back
hobbled i fall forward 
it drags me under
cold waters
clawing at the ocean floor
i lift my head
**** in air
to struggle free
my feet on earth
again
I am me

later
i feel
magnatised 
feel
the powerful force
it draws me near
it's compelling
persuasive
leads me like I lead a horse
raising my force
high
twisting turning  
out of its grasp

Daily i am pulled
dragged
out of my flow  
my habitat
my own
true nature
withering
in this daily battle

One day i will be
too weak
to
fight
and
it won't want me
anymore

I will be free
Rigmarole Aug 2016
Close your eyes
staring at the sun
it’s dropping fast
burnt umber runs

Mountain auras
dividing shadows
lights the purple line
between day and night

Dark silhouettes
sinking deep
illuminates behind
the promise of sleep

Night stars cascading
emu peeps
between milky light
eternally creeps

Shooting stars bright
inner eye sees
cacophonies of colour
shapes our very lives

It’s dreams, it’s time
it’s endless and divine
this half way place
all here, sublime

It’s spirals, it’s dots
it’s country, it’s us
explaining the universe
simple yet complex
Rigmarole Dec 2019
for a brief moment
a nano second
I was aware
unaware of it
it's globular mess
those molecules
green, red, orange, white, blue
bursting
outwards
but pressed to tightly inwards
there was no room for their expression
they repelled
that spherical mess held together with an invisible membrane
explosive
wound up
each desiring to escape from it's counterpart
similar but vastly different
and then the bears claws
elongated
abnormal
scratching a tear down and through my very soul
the inner world met the manifest fears of the outer world
every cell, no, molecule in my body screamed
screamed
screamed
I could only help myself
I awoke
big dreams and the feelings they invoke are worth paying attention to
Rigmarole Jun 2016
I lay at peace
in happy dreams resided
aware of comfort
in a room warm and quite

to suddenly start
in mortal fear
of dark hand grabbing
and drawing me near

it pulled me hard
it’s weight eternal
it’s dark brown shape
too small to be paternal

my life in it’s hands
was worth the fight
an attack like this
in the dead of night

it made me scream
kick with all my might
with sheet wrapped
and strangling tight

I thrashed and screamed
and trusted only myself
nothing else could save me
from this psychic elf

it was it or me
I was determined to prevail
I cursed its gloom
it’s morbid wail

I felt no fear
I held my ground
until it realised me
and slipped and slithered
far beneath me

my breath returned
I came into this place
and checked each corner
and crack without haste

and beneath each sheet
I peered and scanned
to find this shapeshifter
had fled this land

this demon who visits
from time to time
I have become accustomed to
fighting with this power of mine

I don’t welcome him
I don’t decline
but I do know
I am ready
for the next time
Rigmarole May 2016
the gentle soft touch
of a strangers embrace
the lightness of laughter
as we turn face to face
the swiftness and ease
as two lips touch
the fleeting breeze
as it becomes all too much
then head bowed and unashamed glee
when two friends embrace
and know how to be
This happened, when I turned to kiss a beautiful girl friend on the cheek - we giggled :-)
Rigmarole May 2016
I wander through the complexities
of nice and good and other oddities
with wish and want I begged for yes
but found out each time they couldn’t care less

I tried and tried and tired myself out
only to leave my mind in angst and full of doubt
what came next was hard and brutal in it’s tyranny
and left me with more than but one enemy

but now much later I can see through eyes
that have been cleared by history and lies
they are blue and deep like oceans wide
and forgiving to both man and child

what comes next I hope will fill me more
to over flow to love and to adore
it takes time you see to be me
but I forgive that and always intend to just be
Rigmarole Sep 2016
The first word rode in on a wave
the sound reverberates, recreates, and saves

the wave was strong and its centre pure
it sounds of aum and unity sure

the word it grew, it rippled through
it’s power pure yet open to slur

the wave of innocence without pretence
goes further without stopping yet never intense

it’s intentions from truth, it’s depths and youth
it washes clean, it’s current never seen

this wave still pushes, it’s caught us all
with nets hung deep to haul and maul

the word on a crest, it’s babble never rests
we laugh, and joke and jest at best

and yet the origin remains intact
we watch and wonder as it changes tracks

it alters form from time to time
and this is how we loose our rhyme

the trick you see is to understand
just what makes a man a man

we are but water, in us deep it moves
this word vibration, moving within the grooves
In the beginning there was a vibration
Rigmarole Nov 2017
I saw her from a distance
Her evident difference
alarmed me for a moment
My eyes hidden behind glasses
made split second assessments
My confusion in this place of fitting in
was considerable, unknown to me

I saw in her hand the cigarette burning
Her fat perfectly rounded belly held
and wrapped in red flowering
frilly and flowing dress
It was hiked up at the front
showing pudgy white blotchy skin
the time for babies was long behind her
We moved closer toward each other

Her difference and indifference grew
I noticed her saunter with unstable gait
Her long dried out died blond hair
Her own attempt at glamour stood out
The mismatched colours, the loose layers
and the string of large yellow beads
wrapped around her goitre throat
Her eyes gazing downwards
We were going to pass soon
I knew she was different

It was surprising and unexpected in this place so the same
I was unprepared in those seconds left to pass
Thoughts and feeling arose and changed
Those thoughts and feelings are mine to question

"Good morning"

And on the wind the smell of old cheap perfume
and cigarette smoke, delicious
Reminding me of who I was before
Of a far away time brought to mind
by that perfect mix of smoky chemicals
a place with happy memories
a place I longed to return to
my youth

I was left with a realisation
Our desire can lead us down a one way path
This one dimension forbidding alternatives
Designating an end point
A reminder not to forget who you were, is who you are now
Made from pasts both good and bad
To celebrate our differences
A moment in my life, so fleeting, yet so important, this morning, I awoke.
Rigmarole Sep 2016
I knew your face so well
when I look now I remember every cell
it’s smooth, your porcelain skin
so smooth, and fine, and thin
the hairs of your eyebrows perfectly plucked
you beauty spot, made more beautiful, made up
your green eyes, sharp, ponds of worry
your hands hard, cut and worked, always in a hurry
the hollow of your neck, the soft pigeon of your chest
your long legs and heavy feet, walking quickly
we had to run after you, up the street
we carried bags, they made us strong
and we followed along, in rain, sun and song
like duckings behind you
our mother

— The End —