the colour of our lives

poetry • celebration • faith • nature • humanity • imperfections • glory

thanks

I saw this today in the sidebar of this blog:

Hitmap
(it was stuck on 999 for days).

So, thanks to everyone who visits, likes, comments and follows, even given my sporadic posting habits. This is a very meaningful experience for me and, if you’re reading this, you’re one of the people who help to make it even more worthwhile.

Peace to all,
–Dan

more of the kingdom

this Kingdom is
like prayers in
breaking voices,
rising from
the cracks of a poem

skyit is like
being surprised
by tears in the
retelling
of heroic deeds

like
a rush to the heart
in the fluid slide
of fingers
on silver strings

and a story
bursting like
an excited child
from life-
hardened lips

αΩ


Some of this was inspired by Marie Howe’s wonderful poem “Part of Eve’s Discussion“. Image © Dan Trewear.

but, the soul

There’s a situation;
Neverman always has
a situation, but he has
no time, no appetite
for Dr Freud
and his learned progeny.

The sages dig deep, no
doubt, but the eclectic
smorgasbord of Jung
does not satisfy, nor
the dry bread of cognition.

Adler’s insight rings true,
and we all fear to drink
the cup of death, but
these things make too
much sense to be of help.

speaker-for-the-deadBut, the soul. Gestalt,
impotent, slinks to the back,
with his weary brothers.
A Presence, huge, electric,
is Leviathan on the table,
carving Himself for the feast.

Still, Neverman aches for
the gifts of Love, while
hiding, vainly, from the Lover.
Heart, torn and planted; a
scion of the tree of Life
springs from the bloody ground.

αΩ


Image from comics.ign.com. Some of the last stanza inspired by “Speaker for the Dead” by Orson Scott Card.

prodigal

Almost Once by Brett WhiteleyWe sat, listening to the simple story gripping our hearts. Grown men swallowed, blinked back, with clenched jaws and shining eyes.

How could we not weep, or dance? not sit, still and struck? not give all in colour and song, wild emotion, the blood and mess of the humans we are and the bodies of light we shall become?

Because we are safe, back in the hard but hidden hollow of our imperatives and rituals. Holy fire wavered above fearful brows. Over a few, or all, potent embers still burn.

αΩ


Image is of the sculpture ‘Almost Once‘ by Brett Whiteley, installed near the Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney, Australia

extropy

the new earth will appear, not too far

beyond imagining, and the universe will

resume its holy point of origin. science will

discover, but not care, that its laws were

correct, mostly, for the older cosmos – but

here, matter and energy spring forth from

golden streets while disorder and

chemistry’s potential cascade lose their

entropic pull, yielding helpless to the push

of heaven. a new biology, a blazing life of

fantastic and unimagined subatomics,

draws on its prime and ancient source, free

at last from the old Laws.

spider time

I first saw her after catching a glimpse of her golden web, hanging between she-oak trees in the late afternoon sun as I cycled home from work.

OrbSpiders

Golden orb–weaving spiders

With no camera, and the comfortable domestic pleasures of Friday evening enticing me on, I didn’t stop to have a closer look. Of course the memory of a golden-webbed spider large enough to be seen while travelling, looking back, and from several metres away, was sufficient motivation to return to take photographs.

She is a Golden Orb Weaver, Nephila edulis, apparently widespread in Australia, especially Western Australia where this photograph was taken (in the urban bushland of Kings Park in Perth). Unfortunately the morning light, or perhaps the aging of the web, has lost the golden sparkle which originally caught my attention. Apparently the ‘edulis‘ part of her name means that the spider herself is edible; she is at least a mouthful, with a body length of 3-4 cm.

Just below and to the left of the mess of her food waste in the web, mainly insect exoskeletons, her male partner can be seen.

The link to information has some more astonishing photographs, including one of a small bird caught in the web and being consumed by a female Golden Orb Weaver.

P.S. Geek note – the photo was taken with a Sony compact, can’t remember the model. I used to have the same sort of thing in Olympus. All my photos on this blog are taken with one or other.

hover

if I lose my form
to the void • will the Spirit
soar over my face?

then again the acid

CorrodedHandit will return, of course
wheel and all its
moving parts securely
attached to its blue frame.
then, again, the acid
in the air
pocks the chain with rust and
in a rush of bile
Neverman’s bicycle blows
mojo and lightness dragged
roughly
into viscous singularity


image from metaconscious.tumblr.com

in tune

being or
not
reverberates
to
achieve resonance;
touching the divine may prove fatal

found poem

…but if you want to dumb it down to geography
“East is East, and West is West”1
it naturally oscillates
history, literature, biography, art, religion;
revolution, spreading the true
Qualities of Angels.

Energy, with a slight chance of causing moderate fire;
please stay out of here, unless
in trouble,
“thy soul with crosses and with cares”2.

Whether or not it hurts
a state of total nakedness, as at birth
engaged in a discussion about power,
cut from the trees
near the beginning
of the world.


1 From ‘The Ballad of East and West‘ by Rudyard Kipling
2 From “Mother Hubbard’s Tale” by Edmund Spenser
.


The rules:
For each line,
1. highlight the titles of successive posts on blog
2. right-click ‘search Google for “. . .” ‘
3. choose some words from the first page of search results
4. add punctuation, capitalisation as desired.
[Some of the control lost in steps 1. and 2. is regained in steps 3. and 4.]
Repeat 1.-4. until finished.

westward leading

NorthShoreStrip

North Shore Strip

“I’m back”,
he said, “and
those in the know will
figure out,
from the photographs,
where I’ve been”, with
that annoying smirk and
poorly-concealed
wink of those with
self-important
secrets. Read more…

neverman rides east

Dear readers
another excuse, sorry. I’m off on holiday with my family until mid January. Looking forward to re-immersing in everyone’s writing then.
Best, –Dan

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