#interconnectedness
If our words fall softly into the world,
do they find a listener or heart, or does it drift
like a feather across oceans on air?
Does heaven listen to the sky?
Do the words we write find infinity,
or vanish like sparks in the night?
I stand among the full stops, commas and exclamations,
their need beckons in slow conversation with the longing of a blank page.
Our thoughts pass, at times disjointed,
yet bound by some hidden thread,
and yet it carries the scent of something remembered,
something not yet understood.
Do the stones pray when the rain touches them?
Do the rivers whisper to the moon as they twist through the night?
Does a little fox pause, nose lifted, ears poised,
and send a prayer along its path,
in some hope
or is it only hunger and instinct speaking?
I watch the sky fall and fold into itself,
bright stars kindling like distant fires,
and I wonder if longing
is the same thing everywhere,
or only inside me.
I raise my hands at times,
not to ask, not to give or take
but to feel the pulse
life that moves through my fingers
the humming, unbroken,
of leaf, of wing, of stone, of heart.
And in that silent moment,
I am both lost and found,
a witness
to the quiet pondering that is
with each line of thought,
Neither do we wait to be noticed
but silently transformed.
Feb 19
Feb 19, 2026 at 8:58 PM UTC
Inspire—
get people's Minds—
Feelings—Thoughts.
Expire—
give your own Mind—
Feelings—Thoughts.
Hear—
absorb Ideas.
Speak—
give Ideas.
We All are the Same—
a blur of Ideas—Words—Faces
all of Us—one Voice.
Feb 14
Feb 14, 2026 at 4:59 AM UTC
Ode to the Stream that sits stagnant
somewhere over Northgate Green:
I have sat by it and observed
Rippled currents falling down
Into murky shallows, an un-natural
Green, like mountain-dew
Breathing frothy spots of bubbles
That circle a rhubarb vape
And a sprite can and a
Heineken can and a
Little hopping Wren darting
Between curled roots.
I remember too,
The drips of
Rain water
Worming
Down the dingy
Alleyways of
My childhood,
Dripping down
Nettles and
Seeping into
Cracked brick and
Sodden dirt
And part of - now a -
Sordid cigarette packet.
And from some
Geography class,
I remember how
This water was
Reborn, once
In massive clouds,
Grumbling masses,
Sky's mother who
Shadows the
Bursting
Writhing
Violent
Rivers
And
Vast Fjords
And
Reaching Peaks
And
Breaching Skys
And
Once
Birthed
As torrent
Rainfall
Tearing
Massive wounds
Into tectonic
Plates
The
Blood of matter
And organism
And that which
Carries our ****
In every form
But that's not all. As, I recall:
The lifting motion of staring
Into 'etched lines of water'
From rain, tracing bulbous
Recollections on opaque glass
And knowing they don't
Know where they are going
And I bask in the significance of
This insignificance.
Jun 23, 2025
Jun 23, 2025 at 4:06 PM UTC
Dancing to the rhythm of the universe,
A beautiful, organic chaos.
Grateful for the lessons,
I drift in a pool of elysium.
A wounded healer in progress,
Prancing on a satin thread,
Woven with multidimensional facets.
Allow me to amend the social poison
Flowing within this boundless vessel.
May 17, 2023
May 17, 2023 at 2:46 AM UTC
Her. Him.
Hurting
Herding
Her team
Burnt him
Turning
Her win
Him. Her.
Winter
Hint where
Here, there
He'd dare
In her
Him. Self.
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 12:26 AM UTC
every
single thought
you brew begins in
me and ends with you
these empty beds that home our
sleep, do not fill with lonely sheets
for when i toss and turn in dreams
i somehow feel you there with me
your Soul is clothing that i wear
i feel your gazing everywhere
even from across the seas
i say "bless you" as you sneeze
my cuts & bruises line your knees
my hollow heart skips to your beat
but some days it feels off pace
for such reasons i can't say
is it your sadness that i trace?
when it goes dark i see your face
i think i blink for you to breathe
i know that it is not just me who
feels this heaviness i bleed
i still spit out the sand in me
it's from my heart i left at sea
my waves of love fill with
seaweed... i'm caught in
you; come sink
with me
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 8:19 PM UTC
I lay here waiting in my skin for the tearing of the membrane
that seperates this world from the next one and I let myself
get carried along by a fresh stream of reasoning until I
flare up in the dark like a new species of amoeba
this balancing and spinning around on an atom and just not
falling off it becomes boring at times and maybe because of that
sporules once landed here to grant us the possibility
of another possibility
I lay here waiting and I manage not to drown just like only
an almost newborn baby can and being born in 1983
means nothing here in the swelling infinity
of the abnormal
my skin has been waiting for new atmospheres for decades
and the touch of unknown forms makes me shudder with
raw impervious happiness because invisible energy
effervesces alongside my arms and the eyes in my skull
could be anyone’s right now
suddenly the waiting is forgotten and I wallow myself
in the gathered fairy tales of every soul that preceded me
carelessly astonished and uncapable of understanding
the seriousness of this absurd life
inside me irrational poetry dances
like a tribe jumping around a bonfire
outside the universe
dances her own eternity
round and round
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 7:33 PM UTC
I saw a little crab coming out the sea
snail shell greeting me.
I saw a ladybug
********** and welcoming
me on the beach.
Then I bathed in the luminous
sun rays naked.
Bare beauty of existence:
I let the lady bug go
near the coast
to climb on the finest bush branch.
Thank you, happy-go-lucky!
I go as well. . . sweet lady
I saw grey green *****
running into the shade
hiding among sea rock
cracks. . .sea waves splashing over them.
I saw a lonely seagull staring at me
thoughtfuly aware. This reserve sharp,
piercing gaze surpised me ~ thinking:
"Who is this-lady occupying my bay?"
Then the seagull flew away landing
nearby on the baby waves, swaying
with a natural rhythm, drifting, white,
away, still aware of my presence.
I had to draw him within my mind
to capture the curve of his beak
and the orange yellow shade, eyes
thinking of other eyes, masculinity.
The body was The Livingston. Pure
bonus. Of living. I saw all human beings
have this yearning soul, wanting to be
happy. Every inner light glows beautifully.
***Thank you ~ Majestic Universe! We are
never alone! Interconnected I am, happy,
content, loving each rock, pebble, soil~
tree, person, sunrise~music~sunset!
Every ripple's interference phenomena
caused by these amazing alive beings.
Morning around. . .***
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 9:53 AM UTC