MIDDAY POETRY “Instantly Moreish”

Instantly Moreish

I cried and my eyes flooded old rivers
I smiled and my mouth shaped new valleys
The tears of joy came unexpectedly
Above all the lies the truth resides

My heart beats to the bongo drums
My liver filters toxic memories
I raise a praise to the grey matter
For keeping it all in sync

The order which runs my blood around
Does not sleep and never stops dry
I go about my day with a fresh look on my face
Knowing that I am looked after and cared for

Whatever I call it whatever name I give
It bursts way beyond those vowels
More life there is given with each breath
Homeostasis keeps me balanced inside out

My heart opened to new discoveries
My mind shattered old structures
What stays permanent moves around
Constant flow of dissatisfaction.

More Moreish More

 

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THE LANGUAGE WITHOUT WORDS

Many teachers out there speak of the ‘language of the heart’.
What does this communication from the heart or language of the heart actually mean?

The mystery of the language of the heart is encoded in the land of the body, feelings and emotions.

Let’s look at an example. See if you can relate…
When we meet with a stranger, we unconsciously engage part of our brain, which starts to evaluate the other person. We are looking for warning signs or similarities. Even before the other person starts to speak, we have already made our first set of unconscious prejudgment and observations. On the level of body language, we assess each other from our posture, movement of the limbs, facial features and also mood anticipation.

Then we create an internal picture of the other person, seeing them for who we perceive them to be through the lens of our preconceived ideas. As much as they are doing the same thing, evaluating our own body language and also our features.

And then we or them start to talk with one another. Now, we are talking! Our mind is still alert and in the mode of assessment of the other. With our mind needing to find out whether they could be a threat for us or not. When we finally conclude that this person is not a thread but a rather interesting and pleasant to be around, we relax our system of alertness.

Our body has its own way, directed by our unconscious mind, of communicating on an autopilot. We don’t usually plan each muscle’s and tendon’s individual moves, before we move our arms, legs or any part of the body and face into certain position or grimace. We do this unconsciously. We can also say automatically or without thinking consciously about it.

Do we know how to convey something, by other means than using our mind, with words streaming through our mouth?

Now, our other way of communicating, rather than using words to convey a message, is using our body.

If you have ever been in a part of the world where nobody spoke your language (and you didn’t know their language) you can see what I mean. You might have had to do without words. Just some movements of arms, hand signs or signals, or body simulation could be of assistance to explain your or their needs. There is surely more use for our body other than to just carry us around.

Then again, there are times when we want to convey a message like showing compassion, love, trust, respect or understanding. Now, for a variety of reasons, we might choose NOT to use words. If you ever saw a photo of another being, be it baby or animal, or a person in a challenging situation, which created an emotional bond with you, you will know what I mean.

There is language beyond words. The language of the heart is more than can be expressed in words. The touch, the rise of an eyebrow, the smile, the laugh. The formless connections that are formed through these fleeting, yet heart warming instances are boundless.

Make use of this hidden feature of the body to the best of its ability.

Let’s envisage to create a world of more heart warming heart based communication, rather than just plain old speaking of thoughts and opinions or writing of ideas.

With that in mind I leave you in my heart.

CARRYING BABIES BY PROFESSION

Having been carrying infants for the length of my existence, I had the opportunity to experience lots of second hand emotions. There was joys, there were tears, there were upsets and clenched fists.

The most of my career I carried little Joe’s and Sandra’s until they were grown ups who left me as my shape and size where not fit for them anymore. I became used again by another newborn coming to earth and needing me to carry them around, until they fell asleep.

Now I am retired and my job with human off-springs have come to a close.
I found my second life mission helping an older lady. To carry her shopping bags.

I squeak with delight or perhaps with a little wear and tear as my used by date is near.

In the next lifetime, I plan on being a little different…

Instead of being a pram I would be happy as a golf buggy.

MIDNIGHT POETRY “Falling Inside”

This time my loose attempt at creating poetry has been inspired and guided into being by an acclaimed, well versed and passionate UK poet Joelle Taylor. Joelle led a poetry workshop here in Brisbane and I had the pleasure to be there. Thank you Joelle for bringing your significant and raw style of poetry into being and sharing your story with the wider audience. You are a legend and an inspiration 🙂

Here is my piece uncovering the turning point of my extraordinary life experience.

“Falling Inside”

A woman herded behind an office desk
equaling figures balancing out sheets.

One cog in the vending machine of life
Spitting out coke addicts at regular intervals
Undisturbed sheepish existence.
Pages of years gone by.

The thundering storm came uninvited
Breaking the echoes of silence and seclusion
The sky broke in half. Peace and bliss at first.

Massively frightening and uprooting all in a space of a day
The fire came from within and burned all without mercy.

Head spins and heads turn away from the burning image
Deep inside lies the key to salvation of the soul.

Upturned and recycled image of the ego
Holding out its formal reigns.
The illusion of control destroyed.

Free fall into the abyss of life.

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