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Paul Jones Oct 2017
I remember you     the way I want to,
without a photo     but from memory.
10:45 - 28/10/17

State of mind: pensive; apprehensive.
Perspectives: personal; philosophical; psychological; ethical.

Thoughts: from thinking - I choose not to record every moment with a photograph or video. I choose to develop the clarity and sensation of memory. I want to walk in the spaces of my mind, to feel the texture of the walls, gauge the temperature, feel the atmosphere and see you with the flickering animation of a beautiful essence. Those memories are more real in feeling than the photograph I'm seeing. Memories are the stories I want to tell.

Questions: What is missing when we are without who we are within?

Listening to: Beach House.
Paul Jones Dec 2017
The wind moves through trees      and waves find a shore
but with my embrace,      I am missing yours.
21:45 - 09/12/17

State of mind: happy; sad; longing.
Perspective: natural; personal.

Thoughts: none.

Questions: none.
Paul Jones Dec 2017
In the frozen earth,      a seed is buried.
Memory rests, waiting      for the warmth of spring.
16:20 - 30/12/17
State of mind: deep thought; mellow.
Perspectives: natural; philosophical.

Thoughts: from thinking - if an idea is to come to fruition, construct an environment from which it can grow.

If an idea cannot die, it is only because it has left traces of itself in as many places as possible. A thing is not dead if its memory can be passed on.

Questions: If a memory is altered slightly with each passing, how can an origin be known if its current state resembles nothing of its original?
Paul Jones Jan 2018
Like a bright star dies     or a great tree grows,
Some things are best lived     when they're long and slow.
10:45 - 03/01/18
State of mind: calm.
Perspectives: natural; universal; philosophical.

Thoughts: from thinking - do things long and slow. If there is a better way, it will come not from using more energy, but mastering how energy is used.

Questions: none.
Fog
Paul Jones Mar 2018
Fog
My eyes are heavy, drawn into the ground.
Moisture gathers, forms a drop on my nose.
Knackered, bowed and kneeling, I knit my brow
and wonder where the unknown, west road goes.
When I raise my hanging head, I feel for
the strength to rise up, stand and carry on.
I have looked inwards to see through the fog
because the signs that guide me have gone.
It is a struggle to walk in the mud,
Whilst cold and weary, with my clothes sodden.
My thoughts are hazy but a strong heart should
not fail me. My faith is not forgotten.
Aimlessly dragging hope alongside despair,
a feeling leads me, I do not know where.
10:00 - 03/09/17
Sonnet - 31 -
Paul Jones Apr 2017
I climb. Although a harsh wind and sleet sweeps
  these hills, my temperament remains steady.
Although the path is treacherously steep
  I have been thoughtful, I have come ready.
The footfall here is few and far between
  and some who came to conquer, could not cope.
As I push on past the point where they've been,
  I look into a mist that holds my hope.
Joy lies beyond a helm wind of despair
  and must be battled with to be surpassed.
I will prevail here knowing that it's there.
  I’ll conquer fell and fall so I’ll be passed
to where tranquillity abounds below,
  throughout the valleys of the rain shadow.
Sonnet - 9 -
11:00 - 29/04/17

This is a revision of a previous sonnet. It's metaphorical and explore's why some people choose to do difficult things in life, despite having easier options.
Paul Jones Nov 2017
thinking
thinking is
thinking is not
thinking is not what
                                    you
think it is
you think it is
but it is not
what is it not
                        you
but what are
                        you
if you are not
thinking
a
human
              being

you've been thinking

but if
            you
asked a thought
am i
          you
it would reply
                           no

i'm just passing through
Logos - 1 -
11:00 - 26/11/17

This is experimental but I'm working on a new structural form. It is not free verse and will have rules. It will be playful and rhythmic.  

This explore's 'thinking' but I will have to see if it works with other concepts. It seems like abstract words work well.
Paul Jones Dec 2017
dance
d                                             e
    a                    c
             n
                   w i t h
                         me
with          me
           be
cause
           no
one
           should
dance
           alone
Yeah, it works.
Interesting.
Paul Jones Jan 2018
it is cold
then hot
                    so quickly
it is tough
it is hard
                    but melts with heat
it tings
it taps
and
                knocks
     about
                             the surfaces
                    of the kitchen worktop
             these are properties that stir tea

it is cold
then hot
                    so quickly
it is cool
it is calm
                    but bends under pressure
it sings
it raps
and
                talks
     about
                              the textures
                              of existence
             these are properties that stir me
Paul Jones Jan 2018
know
                  someth    g
                               in   side
                        out

          think                 side

                                                    out

  ­        the                     box
Know something inside out. Think outside the box.
Paul Jones Dec 2015
Chills of the northern wild are rough to those
  who have no guidance or are ill-equipped
to scale the steep incline and climb exposed
  the high fells reach. No rock is lightly gripped
when every failure seeks to see me fall;
  No step is taken to be a mistake.
For what is needed to ascend this wall
  is slow to learn and hard to undertake.
Joy lies beyond the helm wind of despair
  and must be battled with to be surpassed.
So I’ll prevail here knowing that it's there.
  I’ll conquer fell and fall so I’ll be passed
to where tranquillity abounds below,
  throughout the valleys of the rain shadow.
Sonnet - 4 - 29/10/15

There is an improved version of this sonnet above called Helm Wind. This one doesn't seem to make as much sense but I won't delete it.

I think some of the lines here are a bit underdeveloped. At least they show my early struggle's with making sense within the difficult confines of iambic pentameter.
Paul Jones Oct 2017
The sunset looks beautiful at twilight,
piercing through the underbelly of clouds,
the sky painting vehement, orange light
against the darkened faces of the crowd.
We listen to the sound of a sitar play
and feel the rapture of the beating drum.
Everything the spirit could want to say
is spoken by the motions fingers strum,
reverberating through the evening air,
and those who move to its smooth harmony.
I hold you close, sway with your gentle care.
True beauty is this rhythm, dancing free,
far from the dissonance a dark world cries,
an orange glow reflected in your eyes.
22:30 - 14/10/17
Sonnet - 30 -
Paul Jones Dec 2015
The mirror becomes interesting when
  the face it's held toward is like a  
reflection of the self. If it isn't, then
  their image is defeated, dulled and grey,
subdued in that they are of little worth.
  Thus, only with attention can you shine.
But what attracts also destroys, gives birth
  to collision. The reason I can’t find time
to show you how your colour can burn bright
  is because you're not willing to let me.
I know how the dark tones become highlights
  and feel you should't fear uncertainty.
Instead, realise the potential that’s there
  if you do not discolour what we share.
- Sonnet 1 -
Original: 09/01/13
Edited: 27/04/17

It was written after a tumultuous relationship. At the time of writing, I thought there was potential but it was all too shallow.

Writing this kick-started my interest in poetry. This is where it all started. My ambition then and now is to write about all my deepest ideas and strongest feelings.
Paul Jones Apr 2017
All is silent; still is the deep of night.
  I look below, cannot see what I feel
beneath my feet. One prevailing insight,
  known only in a sense, goes unrevealed.
I do not fear its truth, neither contest
  it does not know me. Within it, I stand.
An absurd sureness, an uninvited guest,
  has touched the base of what I understand,
now all mind and motion acts in tandem.
  I taste the salt of the air, feel the breeze,
the oceans rhythm becomes who I am.
  Rhythm becomes me, puts the mind at ease.
I feel the calm, hear the call of the night,
  look above, see stars amongst the moonlight.
Sonnet - 25 -
16:00 - 23/03/17

This sonnet is about being in harmony with your nature. It arose out of an interest in how an environment affects who we are and how we feel, even think and behave.
Paul Jones Apr 2018
A small pebble is placed in the stream. The pebble is carried away.
A large pebble is placed in the stream. The water flows around it.
Sēma is an ancient word for 'sign'. The poetic form Sēma points to signs of change in nature. Using intuition and imagination, a Sēma's meaning can have a human context. To know nature is to know humanity, for they are one and the same thing.
Paul Jones Apr 2018
Rain does not fall forever but where it is stopped, there it continues.
Trees will not grow forever but when they die, death is not the end.
Sēma is an ancient word for 'sign'. The poetic form Sēma points to signs of change in nature. Using intuition and imagination, a Sēma's meaning can have a human context. To know nature is to know humanity, for they are one and the same thing.
Paul Jones Apr 2018
A drop of ink does not need stirring to be diffused in water.
A drop of ink becomes concentrated when the water evaporates.
Paul Jones Apr 2018
The fall of a great tree has the power to take down others.
A clearing is made in the forest and new life fills the space.
Paul Jones Sep 2017
The blackberries on the railway path are ripe.
  The woodland birds are quick to take their share,
while purple fingers pick amongst the hype
  and rabbits hop in the hedgerow somewhere.
A cool wind spirals, rustling fallen leaves,
  carrying distant cries along its way
and bending the amber-tinged tips of trees.
  The sound of summer joys are in decay.
They soften, becoming calmer, quiet,
  like tired eyes in need of time to sleep.
There are some feelings I cannot forget
  and memories I will forever keep.
Meet me along the railway path, my dear,
  to breathe the mellow, autumn atmosphere.
19:00 - 07/09/17
Sonnet - 28 -
Paul Jones Jun 2017
The space between ethereal measure,
  the nothingness connecting our divide.
This lack of substance is surreal, obscure
  are old memories of sharing your side.
Ours is the spirit, by which we are bound,
  a realm we share where timelessness persists.
Where shapeless planes carry a formless sound,
  the self becoming selfless, unresisting.
The place you’ve gone does not belong to me
  and in the space between us, seeds are sown.
The tree of life sways softly with the breeze
  while you continue, beyond what I know.
Like wings that carry over to another shore,
  you are my leaf on the wind. I see you soar.
Sonnet - 18 -
Original version: 27/09/15
This version: 23/03/17

I can share this now.

Dedicated to my Father.
I wrote this sonnet for him and read it at his funeral.

It explore's the experience of still feeling deeply connected to something that is no longer. Even after their death, people still affect you and change you. Pieces to a puzzle are still being put in their place as we mirror ourselves and our actions to what they might have done. We learn about ourselves and the world from these reflections.

On an even deeper level, this sonnet explore's the ethereal connections we have to our ancestors and the past. Observing that, what is lost to us will be reborn, through it's decay, feeding new growth. The cycle of life.

          "I am a leaf on the wind.
               Watch how I soar".
                                               - Wash, Firefly

— The End —