talking in lines

time that was

puffs of memory

maze of bewildered yesterdays

mistory, — misty, the color of yore

meaning beyond time

meaning as flavor, essence and wine

 

the touch of love

your look, my sun

rain in the morning

sweat on the sheets

stained is my heart

– but unfazed its beat

 

parched for life

defining the now

well-nigh a clone

human raindrop or sand grain

from laughter to reason

– a return ticket for life’s season

a packed of rays

instructions in smoke

stuck in the ancestral harbour

– with other anchored souls

imbibing with Nodding Lost & Co, not for rescue,

– but clueless suggestions where not to go

 

confirmation of mistakes

misses to missus and miss again

mindless blunders

lessons of regret

deliberate future

selective action

accomplished success

another mis(s)take

another miss

missing, — spot on

regardless, you’re born to be great

 

align your want with who you are

want not what you are not

come home to yourself

– and find your place taken

dream sans the ego

a collarless pet

yo-yo in freedom

your leash of fate is unlikely to snap

 

too strong coffee

cream on my thoughts

foam through my pen

sweet words to read

stretching my reach

life in a pill

condensed imagining

add tears and soul

OD daily

try not to die and grow

 

dilute your ideas and you’ll miss them

deny them not and they could manifest

between forgetting and trying is life

live for no thing but you

another line Snow White?

another dream with you

go not for long

life could end tonight

 

egging around

Life is about sitting on an egg, — partially.

When you’re sitting on top of an egg,
– and be honest, I think we are all trying to hatch something, –
and nothing happens for too long,
there is something wrong with the egg you’re sitting on.

Nothing is wrong with you, — of course not.
You did your time and probably more than was necessary.

No bird sits on an egg longer than they intrinsically know they have to, and neither should we.

If you want to bring something about:
manifest something,
change your circumstance, change your beingness.
If nothing happens,
get off and find another egg.

If you water a seed or seedling and it doesn’t grow,
you don’t continue indefinitely, do you?
Cui bono?
There must be a benefit; else, what are you doing it for?

Maybe herein lies the problem:
We are the egg and the hen.
Between being both we get side-tracked.
We hen around when we should also egg around.
And both hen and egg have a best before date too.
Or, perhaps our egg got swapped while we were inattentive or in cloud-cuckoo-land. We might be sitting on a dinosaur egg that takes epochs to hatch,
and we only have a human lifetime.
Another more sinister reason could be that there is no egg for us. A hiccup in nature, an oversight, or perhaps a deliberate message of:
“You are wasting your time here, you should be somewhere else, sorry (hu)man, internal error, – reboot.”

I don’t think sitting on an egg is that much fun,
especially when the dream of what that egg was supposed to become has lost its verve.

In the process of incubation and brooding, you have probably also attracted a severe bout of eggshaustion.
Rest is advised but time is limited because it is now already ‘time minus one egg’.

Time and eggs clearly have some agreement.
Maybe ten time units are one egg unit, or who knows?
And, you are entering into major guesswork as to how many time and egg units are available to you.

At this stage of disillusionment with reality and eggs, you might want to run away to an island and just hangout and relax.

When that escape starts feeling like another egg, is it now the right egg? There’s nobody really around that could answer that question. Eggvisors are few and far between, if not entirely mythical. And, other islanders egging it out don’t strike you as the right reference model.

It is not inconceivable that at this moment you might decide,
“WTF, I’ll just grab an egg that looks nice and sit on it and see.”

The point is that when that first egg doesn’t hatch
and we finally decide to move on to another egg,
unless some inbuilt direction finder kicks in
and sets our compass pointing north again in our life,
we could become abandoned eggs or hens without a head.

Now, the second (nth) time around,
we have to apply extra amped-up effort and employ every ounce of skill and wisdom to bring our life together and make sense of it,
— and not accept a watered-down make-believe or a shortlived fake brochure version, —
so we can find that satisfaction which is inherent when our right egg hatches.