[Byzantine Bindings]

Thursday, 30 March 2017


green blushed with spring
six months of warm weather
hopefully new seeds are planted
old friends

change assures that
nothing changes
elements remain
if not the same
clearly identifiable
amid the new strands
there we were bumping along
when suddenly this happens
we became different
yet remained the same

trying hard to see the acorn in the oak
the rain drop in the ocean
the cloud in the river
and they are easy
I construct the horizon
set the limits
at times they are so very small
I’m tempted to feel ashamed
but realise in time that breathing
saves me like nothing else

it seems there is reality
and ultimate reality
like infinity which
isn’t just a big number
ultimate reality isn’t just another
because you smash one idol
in favour of another
doesn’t make the new one
any less of an idol

life’s searching
it seems
will yield up no answers
only more questions
because there is no end of questions
until the hard wiring itself breaks down
stopping the process
counting the breath
becoming the 'noble detached observer'*,

I come to see myself
as the horizon
running towards it
does not bring it any closer
only by stopping
will it come to me
like god or a butterfly
or some other illusion
which I can watch arise
and fall away

thankfully words fail
eventually I collapse exhausted
and am able to see
the beauty of the clouds
scurry across the sky
hear the dawn chorus
smell the new spring season
taste the food which breaks my fast
get on with living
while still alive.

*Giacobbe, G. C. (2009) How to Become a Buddha in 5 Weeks: The Simple Way to Self-realisation. London: Arcturus Publishing. (p95)

Thursday, 16 March 2017


grey day
sunshine hiding
seemingly anytime
yesterday today tomorrow

mind pulls this way and that
never thought to ask in whose interests
false delusion of ego mind
gets too big for its boots
ultimate reality clouds over
right mindfulness polishes the mirror
seeing nothing
going nowhere
constant vigilance needed
so not to miss the miracle of the moment

Tuesday, 14 March 2017


breathing new life
energy is rising
winter blues are almost over

50 Words
warm days begin opening buds
springtime gently strolls up the lane
blessing all in her path
generous lady
green mantled
fresh as a daisy
welcome back from the wintry depths
teach me how to savour moments
without rushing into some imagined future
help me learn the precious jewel of now.

It’s true though, all I want to be is somewhere else, when now is all there can be. Slowing down and observing activity in a non-judgemental way is the only way to live. Every moment examined without thought or correction or ethics. Emotion kills the present moment by making judgements over past deeds or imagined futures in which there are rights and wrongs when in fact there is only now. Watching the manifestation of necessary conditions. Watching them arise and fall without attachment or aversion. Bubbles in the ocean of mind which can lead to confusion about self-identification and wrong perceptions of my being.

Monday, 13 March 2017

A Book In Time Saves Nine

Started work on the “Classification” book, I just thought, as a sideline, a few pages a day would make a book in time.

A book in time saves nine.


sun singing out
warming and siren like
inviting me to come and see

50 Word Story
there are fields 
which hold pots of fairy gold
waiting to be found 
by those prepared to swap wanderings 
for journey
as intentions firm
options grow fewer
no longer having a hold
before the setting of the sun
unremembered promises must be kept
their meanings becoming clearer daily
deep inside

300 Words
Another seam perhaps? Without application and discipline all the maps, tools and gold in the money bag, discovery and exploration become impossible. Taking up the burden daily is the only way forward, laying down the burden daily, same thing, no one really knows the way of it. 

Said, join in the dance
said, form a ring
said, stoke it higher
said, see how they smile
said, joy is the game
said, all ends in love.
The old ones are always present 
engaged in the daily run 
making us laugh and cry in equal amounts 
as did they in their own ways
on this good earth

So we make guesses
call them truths
building ever higher towers
tottering over our insecurities
as if that weren’t enough
teetering on the brink of something
almost unable to bear the tension
building walls to keep out the space 
between us suffocating 
in stifling air

Who will free us from all this
who will lead us out 
into the safety of the wilderness
no one answers
very well then
this is how it will be
until the tower falls and
honest ignorance is allowed a say
we will ruck and maul around
as if in some game in which 
truth's severed head is passed from one to each 
back and forth until the setting sun draws our game 
to a close 
leaving all tainted
blood on our hands
sweating and worn out we collapse 
melded into mud.

Seek another way
step out bravely
sit by stream
walk by river

Hope is a desolate field
in which we sow our seed
until we find our daily golden bread
and learn to forgive ourselves
over and over again
I know the tune
it’s just the words that I forget 
from time to time.

Wednesday, 8 March 2017

If at first...

you don't succeed

Not happy.
Try again...

Happier 1
Happier 2
Still not sure about finishing off though.

Time to do the daily mulch run another 10 bags should see me off today.

Monday, 6 March 2017

Monday Mulch.

Bright sunny day so best not waste it. Off to see Lloyd and collect some much for the newly moved fruit bushes.
The Pile
Just took eight bags in the car to see how many I might need. Fill your ow bags at 50p a bag can't be bad, quite heavy, I could only just manage two at a time.
Quite a weight.
Eight bags covered two beds, but each bed could probably do with another bag on each as it's a bit thin in places. Same again tomorrow I guess.
Two beds done.
What a great day in the sunshine. The ground is pretty much waterlogged in places but with the bit of sun and some wind it will soon dry out.