gems in the mega-rough: stay awake to the ways of the world

By tdf, March 4, 2016

at 11pm, I need to pour myself out for a few moments of too disorientated in psyche and ego to be able to show anything but what is most raw…of my essence.

‘Stay awake to the ways of the world’..

These ways are most commonly rooted and blossomed in manipulation, at both overseer and worker bee levels. For such is the success of the overseer intent to congregate as flock and be subliminally for the many, known as the Shepherd, that as the Shepherd waves his staff in the air, beckons his flock this way and that way, he smiles, for they are already, regardless of his direction, telling each other to go His way…

I find more potential for intrigue in petals and blades of grass, than I perceive in the majority of people with whom I collide.

A possum balancing on the fence as the hound fangs bare themselves in pure fury….a spider on its web, conjuring week after week her wonderfully designed and forged tapestry of gossamer silk…carefully, insidiously, joining me in my quest to rid the lair of flies…we had an agreement. As I aim for, yet more often than not find solely my own unaccompanied reverence, communion with Nature…by which I mean, true in every way… then all else seems brilliant. Inspiring. Glorious value of all moments shared…for those as honest as the forest, offer us not just a pure world of another heart and soul, which we can touch and feel and discover glorious solace in feeling a part of, but also the most wonderful mirror of ourselves, image of our SELF, we could ever find, with our wakeful senses…

My sense of loyalty is intense. It cannot be swayed by logical reasoning. For its value is found beyond words, it is found within the femurs, coursing through the crimson rivers, which hears words…muted…and they change nothing. Kin are Kin.

Maybe its cultural complications. For where I was nurtured and nourished and learned life, loyalty is the only totem. Not money, not a machismo gait, not speaking sweetly to the women, then whispering in the shadows of using them as chattel…I have been living off instinct for too long to adjust myself here in a spastic, five-horridly faced, showy society of fakery. People are speaking in soundbites they have heard elsewhere. And they know nothing else…By which, I mean, they know not their own voice…I know close to solely my own voice, other than which, the echoes of the wise men I have loved and learned to respect. Which does not make me a wannabe Saint. It just suggests I have lessons learned, a Way to Be, gleaned through example of heart and soul and righteousness…I judge myself by Grant, Mike, Ed, Mario, two Richys, John the Baptist, Darren Jesus and my instincts…

I write with a psyche whose anchor has been cut, just above the metal on the rope, and I seek no new anchor, drifting is accepted, for I am yet to find a harbour where I wish to remain…

My poetry, the one thing I hold dear, as it is forged from the poetry of my soul, has become redundant.

Time to exit my shell…for this quivering of tear ducts when…adversity strikes and I am forced to accept that those I thought close are far. Not just far, but cupping the balls of my most obvious of enemies…must END. Let the Heart feel its woe, which will end, as such gloom is finite, yet why wait, for that lengthy flow of staggered tears? hohoho!. I feel I am already close to an ending of feeling and a focus of the lupine spirit which draws up all but feeling from the husk of my former bambi cub of a heart, takes what remains, and marries it to what is left and still vibrant…SPIRIT. Proceeds to make it metal.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lw5s7LwNzxo

I realised today that the one man I had all but concluded was my kin, a brother, a paternal force, respectful, understanding of my everything, loyal….was…far more obviously closer to my most obvious of enemies than to me. And I had refused to allow myself to see this, until then…Loyalty; the cement and concreting of all and any meaningful bonds we can forge…I yearn and aim myself towards giving so much of myself to another that it becomes a piece of them, not just touches, but becomes, a part of their own heart….as theirs does in turn, of my own most precious of innards unseen yet always felt.

Which means…we are in some ways, as ONE. If anyone outside of our tribe hurts one of my tribe, they hurt me in turn…