amazing digital art of a woman's back head and shoulders surrounded by peach and cream OM signs by adam white photography dorchester dorset uk british photographer in the south west

Poet

I dream of standing
speaking my words 
from soul song
into your eyes,
direct line
from mine;
channels open
beneath me
is my heart,
throbbing
lust into my words.

I dream of standing
alone in the void
uncluttered
at ease,
a million to one
chance of
survival
embodied, 
emboldened
by you
and you
joined.

What am I doing?
here it is again
that 'run out' feeling
where am I?
escaping to
the inner countryside
where my cottage in the sun
waits patiently
for me
to flee
the city's gravity.

Its ok
I'm fine!
my feet firmly planted
this time,
this song
all mine.

I rival her
but with a twist
for rivalry
is not really my style at all
is there something I've missed?
It's more of a sharing 
a collective bean-bag of thought
each thought is a tiny polystyrene bead
like quick silver
it weight something
is highly toxic (to most)
and endlessly alluring

only the experience
need apply
for the position
'poet'.

Is This Perfection?

My life is perfect
in this moment…
Wow!
I really feel that

Appreciation swells,
then the question…
Why?
How can it be?

I don’t mean
that I am perfect!
Oh no!
Ha!

It means more like,
that I am fully engaged
in this awareness
right now…

More like,
that I am here
to appreciate this moment
and all that surrounds me…

The sparkle of light,
that glints
off the metallic disk
on a hanging scarf

The ache of my arm
as I write,
pencil scrawl
racing to the line’s end

The breeze
that undulates the curtain,
as it winds
from open window
filled with sweet spring air

The long awaited
sun filled bird-song,
as nature wakes
from her penumbral slumber

The light dancing
behind my eyes,
as I register
my own experience
of contentment
with what is

This is perfect…

Change
Is
Perfection.

acrylic painting by phoebe thomasson abstract blue brown winter colours

To Do List: Cultivation

Today I need to….

Cultivate Strength, one hour at a time.
Cultivate Bravery, to meet my own weaknesses.
Cultivate Determination to overcome my limitations.
Cultivate Fitness I wish, that I may lift you up.
Cultivate Perspective that this is my journey; destination unknown.
No-one else is on it with me unless I share it.

I hit a bit of a crisis today. Things went pear shaped for a minute, but I remembered that I could choose how things went by my response. I remembered that I have a choice, always. I can respond negatively or creatively.
I chose to allow myself my full gamut of feeling, as insane as it was for a minute, then throttle back and consider what was being said to me. Consider how I could change my perspective and see things in a more hopeful way.
I ended up giving myself the pep talk I was looking for externally. The thing is that it’s never as good from someone else. Our own reassurance or ‘inner sense’ is definitely tailor made for us if we can muster the space to talk intelligently to ourselves.
I also realized that I don’t need to tolerate my acting the fool, inside and out if it’s not productive. I can tell that stupid voice to shut up if I think it is being unreasonable. In short, I can control my own mind, then no-one else need do it for me.

….Cultivate trust in myself.

Seamless: A Revealing Journey…A Poem

photo credit CLUC

I just awoke from a dream….not seconds.ago…and this was the journey that I saw…

Like travellers we strode
Cross valley
And mountain ridge
Like gritty royal characters
The peasants we did pass
We looked up from our toil
To see the royal throng
We stopped with wonder
As we saw ourselves go by

We were transvestites on the beach
Hollering with love and confusion
Dressed in our cross referenced illusion
We looked up to see the punks
Running towards us through the sand
We were charging skins red raw from battle
Worn with tattooed sides and red blood
Running in veins so wild
As we flew towards our quarry
Till we saw the whites of their eyes
And stopped….amazed at seeing
Ourselves

We were landed gentry
Enjoying feasting off the fat of the land
I took her hand
Silken gown flowing down
Not far removed from the royalty
Of yesteryear
You were my servant when I spied you near
I looked up to see my lord’s eyes
Over serving caviare and scones did I then
Come to realize
There was something of me
Behind those wine soaked eyes

I was buccaneer in my office with my phone
Leather case now replace breeches
But my pirate nature with me
Has eternally flown
I steal your money
You’re women your rent
I saw in my whore something new
A her blouse I tore asunder
I saw the thunder in his heart
As wantonly I took my legs
Apart at the seams you took me there
There was something in that
Piratical stare
I almost choked on my red soaked
Lips when I saw my child
My former bliss
In your eyes I am your mother
Your sister
Your lover

We all came round the corner
Up the street to where Goliath’s meet and he was gin-soaked
Riding a horse of Gothic
Proportion
He was waiting
But not waiting
The witch and the warden
the characters all came to him and he nodded
Off to the egg with his weighty smile
Revealed from the door
Those eyes once more…

Sat in the space pod
Was myself; it was me from the outside!
He smiled
The circle complete
Ourselves we did meet…

Though my poetry’s bad
Such a night we all had.

P.Thomasson
2014

This poem is alluding directly to Andy Weir’s short story called ‘The Egg’

Photo Credit CLUC

Weather Front…a Poem

Photo Credit: Roger Kirby
Cold
Heat
I'm at the junction 
where the weather fronts meet
Clashing, stress rising 
like milk boiling over
Cruel, cool knife edge cutting 
through the desperation of 
a mind gone sour
Too tired to function
love's left this heart
Compassion, strained
this anger ingrained
Got to take a deep breath and 
press 'restart'!
No shame in this game just 
stop and start again...
Again, again I hear 
the refrain slow down 
and chill life's been handing 
you a bitter pill 
But you must rise
Brighter thoughts 
than this can inhabit your 
emotional skies
Even in motion you have 
the balm
The healing potion
Just get the notion
Volcanoes must erupt
its not that you're corrupt
so let it go, set 
'go with the flow' on your sat-nav
There are those who have 
less grace than this
no need to stress about 
the hit and miss
Nature of reality 
the moons and changing tides
Respond, react to inner rhythm 
This is where your mystery resides
 
Searching for balance 
in the motion of events
Like surfing 
we learn to take the rough 
and tumble, the mundane 
mixed with intense
Trying to find 
mindful presence 
in a storm of 
compassion versus anger
Aggression 
gnawing at me 
like a dog 
with a bone
Just let me lie 
down...
Take me home.



Photo Credit: Roger Kirby



Rising Tide (Party at The End of Time)

I woke just now from dreaming
The feeling was desolate…

Have you ever felt
Like it was the end of the world?
Did you see the party
At the end of time?
Were your loved ones there
And your brother too?
It was my nephew who was by my side.
Or was it my son grown up?

Can’t seem to shake off the flood
The waters rose when she came after me
We tried swimming in the dark
Party over I chose to leave early
Strike my own path back to base camp
Before the dawn we were up to our necks
In the flood waters do we swim?

Stay up on higher ground
My waking self says get up
Get up out the water
The water is emotions drowning you
You can swim but it is cold
And will only tire you out
But in the dark its hard to know
What to do so me and him we swim
He’s been bitten by what?

I hugged my dad at the party
Does he even remember me?
Do the dead remember who they were?
Who they were is who they are to the living
Enduring memories serve as anchors
We keep your ashes in a box
Should we set you free on the earth?
Do you want to be free?

Stay up on higher ground
Climb on the tables
Forget and let her be.
Dark waters in the night
Do we swim in you safely?

The bar man offered me cheap drinks as he was closing
But they were no cheaper
Only faster. Urgency nearly making the choice
Not wise to guzzle your drink down
Leave the party early to the other end of town.

We saw the waters rising
It was like a tap left on
The door was a dam
Keeping it rising
Stop mesmerising
Get up onto higher ground.

Rise.

My old friend she scorned me
Then let me know her pain
I said yes I share your agony
But know of many remedies
She looked awkward in her skin
I remember her as graceful
Time and pain had taken their toll
I saw we were no different
In our weirdness
Sisters together
Then she disappeared again.

My uncle dancing like a gangster
Mod clean cuts and grey pin suit
I stood at the balcony with you
Beautiful young man
I’m old enough to be your mother
Are you my son?
What do you see by my side?
How can we hold back this tide?
Stay on higher ground.

Rise and shine.
Shine up and rise like the phoenix
He smiles at me
Staying by my side in the rising tide.

We swim.