Skip navigation

Tag Archives: meaning

as beautiful as birds and other wildlife are in the wild, they seem to have no apparent need nor desire to stop and aesthetically enjoy the immense beauty of their natural environment.

instead they seem to unceasingly scuttle to and fro in what can only be described as the frantic pursuit of survival

humans, on the other hand have a heightened cognitive awareness… and we have time,… to reflect, ponder, plan and plunder…

yet we too seem to unceasingly scuttle to and fro in what can only be described as the frantic pursuit of survival

and this time we have on our hands is easily led… astray

… seemingly to devise much more sinister ways to order our frantic pursuit of survival …with which we are kept very, very busy



If I find myself in another’s dream

all I will find is that I have lost that which is my own

the reality that is birthed in the mind of another

can never be mine

it belongs somewhere else,



always tearing to be away and one at the same time

a famous cat locked in a box is and isn’t

it remains a slave

captive to someone else’s experiment  

those who look on will laugh and fight

and disagree that way and this

those who agree disagree with themselves

to be in two different spaces at the same time cannot be

though we yearn it can’t agree with us, or with itself  

time has a place

a space to be real

if only for a moment  

space on the other hand, needs no time

so time in space is rendered useless

except perhaps to define space

but only to those who observe

or so they think  

and what of space?

it exists alone, completely alone

unless it agrees to disagree with itself

and become someone else

or someone else’s experiment

more alone than before  

there is more space than not

this is a mysterious mystery

plain to all

impossible to see  

it cannot be  

but it is

Walking Alone



we are totally alone,

but we’re not the only ones here


so I shout

hearing only my own voice as the lips of others are moving,

or so it seems


echoes of wishes once lost

found to be once mine

or so it appears to be


I see the mist moving

shadows of light

fading to bright

shapes like trees

walking upside down


might it be that I need another voice?

a prayer

a command

inverting the lie to truth

the truth from the lie


darkness still covers the surface of the deep

tearing the water from the waters…


is that a light I see?

or shadows

like trees

still walking


all together

but alone


to rise above the primitive drives
to leave behind the base call of survival
to walk a path that no other has trodden
a path the natural eye cannot see
a place not defined by conformity
a land of new meanings
where purpose is not measured in material
but where material suggests the immeasurable substance

… and in your players and supplications

in all your quest for peace and truth

don’t ask for answers
…because there aren’t any

ask instead for steps to take

for there are plenty of those to go around

it may not be the way you would choose

but the choice will surely lead the way

and if by chance you get there someday

you may not even know you have

because yesterday and tomorrow

will not matter anymore

a scream from within
swallowed while still going out
a solo voice against the wind
ending before it begins

a hollow echo
bread thrown across the waters
drenched and pulp-like
sodden and shapeless

there’s no one to hear
and even less who would listen
so it’s back to the mirror for now

a reflective monologue
scattered in all directions
dissipated even before it gathers

there is only me
I have only what is mine
whatever that is

but I raise my voice
in hope of a response
even an inarticulate sound
that I may know
that against the silence
and just perhaps
that I am not alone


there are so many questions to ask
and even more answers to avoid
so many things to learn
and yet so many more to put aside and forget
puzzles are made for building and built for making

assembling puzzles can bring much joy
breaking them down again brings a devastation of the effort spent
but it also ushers in the hope of new adventures
adventures almost exactly similar but yet completely different

acquiring data takes so much time

undoing it takes even longer

observing can bring great understanding

but the accumulation thereof can so often prevent movement

culture grows, but it also ferments

the end of a matter can be a great relief

even so, there seems to be no end to beginning again

I stumbled off to sleep one day
the dreams came thick and fast
reflections of the night I live
present, future, past

events so vivid, twisted, real
all mixed in detailed mush
fiction science in flat 3-D
like Dali’s hallowed brush

and in a flash it stopped

I woke just as I fell off the brink
I left the world of make believe
at least that’s what I think

so here I am in wonderland
my heart is all a pound
trying to work out if where I think I stand
is really solid ground



i wonder if i made that call

that put my birth date on the wall

some mystical meeting in the ancient past

where plans may have been made

from first to last


the question echoes in my mind

and ruffles chance of peace to find

about good and bad, flow and strife

of the things that fill my lot in life

it’s all smoke and mirrors…
we see nothing,
but we see it from every angle
we rush on
reviewing our every move
in 3-D slow-motion replays

the analysis of paralysis

yet we tell ourselves we’re happy
and strangely,
the majority of us seem to be

or at least,
… so we tell ourselves