I walked alone
Minding my stay
He passed by the way
Looking for life
To be frivolous play.
Stared in my soul
Saw through my face
Laughed at all
My silly mistakes.
He didn’t quite know
The heart on my sleeve
Hesitation my strength
My weakness to grieve.
So held out his hand
Like a lumberjack sword
Cut to my core, stood by
Through the fall.
He knelt down above me
Lifted me up
My legs melted softly
Behind his broad back
My hair on his shoulder
His beard on my cheek
Placed me upon him
Laid me beneath
A Centuries memory
Of war and of peace
I breathed in the moment
Held in that breath
Would not breathe out till I knew
I’de scorned death.
Hesitation my weakness
My curse and my strength
My safety in oceans
Parting our flesh
Take me, and drown
In waters vast breadth.        ~ IW~

Framing Words

This is how ‘Time forgotten’ turns out when tweaked a little artistically via Instagram. I quite like it! It gives me ideas…

Dang, the title of this post, which I just wrote above there now, inspires more verse. That is a good thing right?

Do we want or need more verse?


Preoccupied with living

Preoccupation with things, I suppose, is inevitable at times.

Four dear loved ones passed on in the last 18 months. People who embraced life’s every challenge with vigour and humour. Their departing this place has had the capacity to drive home my own mortality with great force.
‘We die, so we live.’ This is the end to a poem I recently posted.

Seems to have raised concern that there is a theme moving through my posts lately regarding death. I hope there is really…

Death is life’s theme, isn’t it? Society functions around it; Most religions base every choice on what happens thereafter and atheist base everything on what happens before. It is pivotal in determining the course of lives hence forms society as we know it.

So why not think about it, write about it, talk about it? Perhaps butterflies and moonbeams is preferable? It is certainly lovely when the heart calls to write of such things that embrace ones soul and heart, when they do, when we can see them again through deaths lens of clarity and not imaginings stirred by daydreams; for then we truly see their beauty and enigma.

A distinct difference between ‘We live, so we die’ and ‘We die, so we live’, is that if we simply walk through this life until we meet our end we have lived and died; we live, we die – but –

If we walk through this life with death ever approaching in our onward march to the end, racing it, chasing it, and facing it with every fibre of ourselves acknowledging that we will one day end, then?

Then we really can use every moment of this life; and live.
Not in fear but with a determined purpose to accomplish as much in this one lifetime as is possible (god willing …)

No preoccupation is without its merits dearest friend.

Death chases us and when we can accept it fully and embrace its constant approach nothing seems impossible anymore. Nothing is hard, nothing can be more agonising to face, surely, then death? To quote the lyrics of ‘Twenty One Pilots’, originally from street poetry

‘Death inspires me like a dog inspires a rabbit.’

Life IS what we make of it and it doesn’t matter what we do with it, sounds contradictory I know but, so long as we do SOMETHING with it and do not just let it pass as by lethargically day after day after godforsaken day, miserable and scared and unwilling to step out of ourselves due to what might happen; Scared of what ‘other people think of us’? Scared of ‘making mistakes’, ‘rocking the boat’, ‘pissing them off’, ‘getting into trouble’, ‘being rejected’, ‘being intimate’, ‘being forsaken’, ‘being alone’, (Heads up – the worst thing that can happen is, you die.)

Really? We are worried about all that when you know what? YOU ARE GOING TO DIE ONE DAY and … so LIVE!

Die too, to all the fear of rejection, pain, mistakes, trouble and hardship. Die to the ego of everything you think you are meant to be or are now, because death will strip that all away anyway. When we die to ourselves and all our insecurities we will surely live a life nearer to our truest self and all the desires of our hearts.

We die, so we live.

It is a poetry thing… no matter which way you look at it, die to the self and so live, or live now because you will die, it really is for the best to –

Consider death, so to defeat it with life.