No exit


What space defies geometry by
having only entrances but no
My head. And I guess
yours too. There are events
from my past that have
entered into my head which
I would rather forget, mistakes
embarrassing episodes, but
once they enter, that’s where
they stay. Forever and ever.

Yesterday in Lockdown


It’s funny what pressing an extra
“nought” or two on a keyboard will do.
Yesterday in lockdown
I ordered a kilo of potatoes
Or thought I did.

I wondered why the Store sent
A fleet of delivery lorries
To my door and why
The front garden is covered
In brown paper bags.

To those who wonder
Why there is a shortage
Of potatoes, I can only say,
It’s funny what
A misplaced “nought” or two
Will do.

The Toll Gate


On the road to understanding
There is a tollgate that bars some travellers
Reason is forbidden and it’s cousin
Rationalisation, as is Explanation.

Science bans itself, cast out
Into a rational wilderness of its own making
Unable to escape its mechanistic view
Of a universe beyond its understanding.

So who travel the road beyond the toll gate?
Poets. Painters. Lovers. Artists. The people
Who make others uncomfortable.
The odd people who don’t quite fit in.

And of course, all of those who have experienced
Love and Bliss beyond comprehension
Who have come to know
The name of the Divine.

The Compass

Modern compass on a white background

What compass divines
your direction as you pass
through life
from birth to death?

Blind fate, simply casting
the runes that determine
what future lies before each
and every one of us?

Predestination maybe?
The road already marked
that you will blindly follow
believing that you choose?

Karma? The pull of the previous
life, lives, that sweep you along,
atoning, overcoming past failures
moving you ever closer to nirvana?

Free will? You are your own
agent, making choices,
moving hither and thither
as you and only you determine?

Whatever the mechanism
that moves the wheel that moves
us from birth to death,
May you find peace and happiness
In this journey that we all make.

Obscured meditation


In meditation
You are supposed to
Sit with a quiet mind
And watch the clouds (thoughts)
Pass across the sky
That is your mind

Well I want to know
Who is it that hurls
These thunderstorms
In my direction
And fills my mind
With flashes of lightning
And bolts of thunder?

Who is it that obscures
The blue sky of my mind
If it is not me
Even as I sit and watch
The clouds roll by
And wonder
Who am I?