Lifescape (or an elemental metaphor for life)

Reasoning is liquid, ever changing and shapeless defining the self in society.
Drive is gaseous, the wind overrider of intellectual tides, or a guide
Social life is a landscape, full of valleys and hills, gorges and mountains and
Passion, which can scatter intellect wide, along with Drive,
Passion burns eternal beneath the landscape of life.

You are the wind and the water. Blow hard enough and your mind is guided,
drive is Will, and if the Will-wind is steady
your reasoning will ripple into eddies-wavelets-waves
tsunami’s of the brain that will reshape your Lifescape
your way.



whether you’re green, blue
plastic, stillborn or overdue you’re still,
constructed of slowly vibrating energy arranged in discernable fields we know as
proton, electron, neutron, forming atoms forming particles forming people in places forming races nations movements religions all groups making decisions  but,
still, just,
you do. you’re needed by someone, for something, somewhere even its only to maintain your tiny place in the endless pattern of living things woven by birth and death, war peace social increase, global warming and midnight feasts all just rearrangements of what the world and you will always be

Poison Tradition

devious, demon-thing creeping beneath
the walls of wisdom, past the sentries of caution
dodging the death-blow it performs contortions
careful then
‘ware giving it help
by company carelessly chosen the whelp
swerves and weaves and whispers in your ear, about-
fears and tears and pains yet to come
then serves up fresh suffering for its own food and fun.

Nourished on nonchalance
woken by weakness, this, weakness maker
shatters stalwart intention
ever the willbreaker, is-
known to many by its darkly dominant position,
the persecuting poison, practically tradition
known to me and many, as awful addiction.

Walk With Me

Walk with me, through fearful desire
walk with me, face folly’s fire
walk with me, ‘neath Vice’s ire
walk with me, talk with me, take my hand
show me a way out, of this quicksand.

I must tear free of delightful sin
I must tear free the darkness within
I must tear free from this cage I’m in
Help me, tear with me, lets expose this thing
from it all poisonous power we’ll wring.

I must release, my needs for the beast
I must release, for life not the least
for loving, for living it up, for riding real highs
for all the others and myself I must survive.



Chand Baori


Chand Baori,
what’s your story
were you made, so great, in need, or glory?

structure sublimely sliding away
leads the eye, gently, to wander, to stray
doubtless unintended, now, marvelled at
artistry aligned with lives, compact
for a moment drawn together in life’s communal act
water, the grease for people to interact.

Exact, are your steps, proportions and stones
intact, you’ve kept, your allure’s grown
let us learn from your life-worn, well made sides
 life’s necessities surpass petty divides.

Chand Baori

Please click the above link for information on this fascinating location, don’t forget to follow the International Bellhop as well. 🙂

Blogosphere Troll-o-sphere

oh dear gawd, they’re here!
Below those callous comments appear
grammatically dry-cut, cold and clear

the ‘boo! hiss!’ of this century
can make one wonder ‘is it meant for me?’
this world of written pixels, causes
horrible troll-induced repetitive pauses
to read
re-read and disbelieve
the words
of these predatory puerile herds.

Take heed though, take heart, defy these malignants
these foul fans, disgusted attendants
nevertheless attend, carefully, till their cruel boredom’s sated
yet in the end, whose time was wasted?