I love a landscape best
Which is not so self-conscious
As to fear the domination
Of a cloud-illumined sky

I love a landscape best
Which is not so self-conscious
As to fear the domination
Of a cloud-illumined sky
Observe the beauty of a woman
The tortured rending of ego
As the gaze exploits under heat
But I this beauty’s grunge perceive
Projection of my ego’s fear
So let such love that cannot be
Reveal my weakness to be clear
If nothing comes
Find a prompt
(Photographs usually work.)
Start again
Breathe
Quiet mind
Write what comes
Don’t argue with the words
It’s OK to not like what they say
Write them anyway
It’s OK to not have the right words
Write down the wrong words
The right ones can be found later
Wait or pause whenever it feels
Like the words aren’t coming… yet
Or the meaning isn’t right… yet
And the right way isn’t present… yet
Quiet mind
Breathe
Take the time
To let them come
To let them flow
When they flow
Don’t stop
Stop, when it feels OK to stop
Stop, when the words feel true
If the words feel true
They are authentic
Whether or not they seem beautiful
Whether or not they seem important
Whether or not they seem angry
Whether or not they seem loving
Whether or not they seem … whatever
This is the hard part
Whether or not they hurt a little to read
Or hurt a lot
It seems, though
Authentic words are never hurtful
Nor bitter
Nor righteous
There is no deceit in them
Nor guile
The ego is not authentic
Not all words which come
Need to be shared
Even authentic ones
Some words were only ever intended
To speak truly to a readership of one
But, consider sharing them anyway
The word could use a little more
Authenticity
He didn’t choose his friends
Everyone was welcome
And he played no favourites
But few weathered well in his company
Most faded quickly
In that radiant presence
I loved the bastard
And hated him
Eye look in the mirror
Remind myself to look away
So eye can see the me who is
Rather than the me who is seen
Eye reflect on my deeds, on my actions
Measure them against my ideals, my beliefs
I is a thing
Which cannot see
Beyond the shell
Which houses I
Among the desert’s
Many victims:
My haughty ego
And petty worries
Matters unworthy
Of a life
Worth living
I am reminded
Earth is a very small place
And I
I am a very small man
Quell my ego
Quell my mind
They both fear
Whatever is greater than they