Bora born
Close to the bone _
This poem was an exercise in putting down in words random issues ... not in any particular order ... a bit like day dreaming .... no set meter/rhyme ... an earlier work that was just a bit of fun
The recluse, the baker,
the neighbour, and naturopath.
The daughters, the old colleagues,
who would sometimes,
stay in touch.
The card reader, the sister,
the northern thief and his woman.
The mentor, the bala,
too many promises given.
All share together,
a peculiar sort of bond.
For them it seems as time speeds up,
the more invisible _ he becomes.
For _ to keep maintaining, and building bridges,
sooner or later he will find.
He runs the risk of becoming,
a legend in his own mind.
Leo knows the quality,
of loyalty to a friend.
Can sometimes be misunderstood,
as serving his own ends.
Some people have a used by date,
when regarded as a friend.
The other gives what they want to hear,
the fair weather friendship,
that won't find him _ in the end.
But others are longer lasting,
to stand the test this kind.
Or circle in a spiralling dance,
as contact is made each time.
The most intimate form of friendship,
is to be known as someones best friend.
Can know most things about them,
but still like them in the end.
Even those met at some distance,
across the deep blue sea.
The rainbow bridge of communication,
our families still come first.
So if sometime in the future,
one would fly across this bridge.
Only within these families,
should the visit be seen as happening,
with partner accompanying them.
The daughters are strong young women,
brought up to be no one's doormat.
Their own families they now create,
both doing it somewhat different.
Would like to see more of them,
as they pass on each visit.
To talk the talk and feel the feelings,
maintaining the special connection.
So _ as this gains momentum,
he will diminish from their lives.
Giving peace to these people,
his imaginings, far removed.
The seven deadly sins they all are rising,
of this there is little doubt.
The rubbish for so long locked away,
is surfacing to the top.
To see this happening,
it's reasonable to ask why.
With only some time to go,
this old stuff should be wasted,
no compromise.
Left to our own devices,
impulsing should have stopped.
The dead may already have risen,
It's up to us now,
to cop the lot.
Her consciousness is rising,
attunement will see us through.
We all need to keep pace with her,
and let this rubbish go.
I'm sure we'll receive our report card,
Mother Nature has a will of her own.
For_ the racial bigot will find
the sheriff has come to town.
It goes against LAW,
The LAW of creation,
to wilfully put the other down.
To pay back is useless and futile,
to exclude others a waste of time.
Unless _" controlled by another ",
gifting free choice,
without judgement,
is what we're here to find out,
prime time.
Both polarities will exist,
in a drama we mentally create.
The polarities are the illusion,
the opposite poles,
of the same thing.
The two women who pass each visit,
reinforce this lot.
cloning the mothers behaviour,
the cycle now complete.
Can't put an old head on young shoulders,
was never intended they say.
Can be too scary for most,
to let go of belief systems,
they don't even know _ may be blocking the way.
Sometimes takes a crises in life,
as an old soldier to him once explained.
Told of his mate, 83 years of age,
A war vet _ seen the worst in life,
yet compassionate he remains.
Five bullets in the chest,
when Singapore fell during the war.
Survived Changhi,
disease, torture and death all around,
impresses all to this day.
" How did he reach a healthy 83? "
one may well ask.
His answer so simple,
as he only gives by example,
for not one soul from this life,
does he hate.
To hate another shows the absense of love,
No creative power there at all.
The hardest task _ show by example to others,
how to love those who would destroy you.
Very few wingers are found at that age,
by then the damage is usually done.
To maintain good health, before the body gives out
You need to know how to let go.
Patience can cease to be a virtue,
when it becomes known.
Another is having a lend of you,
your own authority they control.
And how do they control you,
the list is too long to name.
But in brief,
It's through your own belief systems,
the upper hand they may gain.
" Now don't get me started ", he said
" Life's filled with examples galore.
To get me going down this track,
so easy to become the bore."
" More important, keep the cup half full,
to focus on positives in life.
To be in service to another,
with no brownie points, as they bite."
The other thing he's noticed,
since old friendships have dropped off.
Is a life filled with fewer people,
clearer in their lot.
As the lad who stays with him,
reminding him once again.
That in a life of service to others,
still traps there do remain.
With a DVO against him,
his three boys he's devoted to.
Still prepared to be the doormat,
under foot of his partner,
as they reel from one crisis,
to the next.
The risk he takes,
is to become as she in serving his own ends.
If the truth be known it is already there,
locked away,
waiting to come out.
For those who are always the victim,
blaming others for the cause of lifes' strife.
Most will scream with fear,
when they learn to look _ in their own mirror of life.
For love is not only blind,
it is also deaf.
You cannot teach another,
experiences of life, for yourself,
they must be learnt.
And in his love for his children,
a jewell is also found.
The essence of creators love,
in the example of this young man.
Living by example,
has a melody like music.
Across all cultures _ a universal language,
to communicate.
And the example, his father gives him.
is not lost on those who observe.
The example carries the message,
where words only tend to confuse.
Dig a little deeper,
Surely _ other polarities you will find.
But try to mind our own business,
or become the equal of creator,
at least in our own mind.
Believe half of what you see,
and nothing what you hear.
Analyse anothers feelings,
to paralyse your mind.
- O -
" Be guided by spirit,
as the old soldier will testify.
When the lessons are to be learnt.
some focus should apply,"
This jewell has many facets,
though to most appear just as words.
Trapped by belief systems,
bringing comfort in times of need.
Take away this illusion,
for trees in the forest can be seen.
Breathe in the fresh air of life,
filtered by freedom to explore.
For once you have embraced this,
and recapture the innocence inside.
Belief systems lose their power over you,
your own authority remains.
The proof is in the eating,
no one recipe shows the way.
A salad bowl of outcomes,
creation at its tastiest.
Judgmental belief systems,
that guide through life's strife.
Release them and become the creative chef,
in the salad bowl of life.
- O -
One bye one _ the message came,
a sense common to them all.
The worm has turned
they _ chose which way
the last now to look in the mirror.
- O -
© 2003 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
The recluse, the baker,
the neighbour, and naturopath.
The daughters, the old colleagues,
who would sometimes,
stay in touch.
The card reader, the sister,
the northern thief and his woman.
The mentor, the bala,
too many promises given.
All share together,
a peculiar sort of bond.
For them it seems as time speeds up,
the more invisible _ he becomes.
For _ to keep maintaining, and building bridges,
sooner or later he will find.
He runs the risk of becoming,
a legend in his own mind.
Leo knows the quality,
of loyalty to a friend.
Can sometimes be misunderstood,
as serving his own ends.
Some people have a used by date,
when regarded as a friend.
The other gives what they want to hear,
the fair weather friendship,
that won't find him _ in the end.
But others are longer lasting,
to stand the test this kind.
Or circle in a spiralling dance,
as contact is made each time.
The most intimate form of friendship,
is to be known as someones best friend.
Can know most things about them,
but still like them in the end.
Even those met at some distance,
across the deep blue sea.
The rainbow bridge of communication,
our families still come first.
So if sometime in the future,
one would fly across this bridge.
Only within these families,
should the visit be seen as happening,
with partner accompanying them.
The daughters are strong young women,
brought up to be no one's doormat.
Their own families they now create,
both doing it somewhat different.
Would like to see more of them,
as they pass on each visit.
To talk the talk and feel the feelings,
maintaining the special connection.
So _ as this gains momentum,
he will diminish from their lives.
Giving peace to these people,
his imaginings, far removed.
The seven deadly sins they all are rising,
of this there is little doubt.
The rubbish for so long locked away,
is surfacing to the top.
To see this happening,
it's reasonable to ask why.
With only some time to go,
this old stuff should be wasted,
no compromise.
Left to our own devices,
impulsing should have stopped.
The dead may already have risen,
It's up to us now,
to cop the lot.
Her consciousness is rising,
attunement will see us through.
We all need to keep pace with her,
and let this rubbish go.
I'm sure we'll receive our report card,
Mother Nature has a will of her own.
For_ the racial bigot will find
the sheriff has come to town.
It goes against LAW,
The LAW of creation,
to wilfully put the other down.
To pay back is useless and futile,
to exclude others a waste of time.
Unless _" controlled by another ",
gifting free choice,
without judgement,
is what we're here to find out,
prime time.
Both polarities will exist,
in a drama we mentally create.
The polarities are the illusion,
the opposite poles,
of the same thing.
The two women who pass each visit,
reinforce this lot.
cloning the mothers behaviour,
the cycle now complete.
Can't put an old head on young shoulders,
was never intended they say.
Can be too scary for most,
to let go of belief systems,
they don't even know _ may be blocking the way.
Sometimes takes a crises in life,
as an old soldier to him once explained.
Told of his mate, 83 years of age,
A war vet _ seen the worst in life,
yet compassionate he remains.
Five bullets in the chest,
when Singapore fell during the war.
Survived Changhi,
disease, torture and death all around,
impresses all to this day.
" How did he reach a healthy 83? "
one may well ask.
His answer so simple,
as he only gives by example,
for not one soul from this life,
does he hate.
To hate another shows the absense of love,
No creative power there at all.
The hardest task _ show by example to others,
how to love those who would destroy you.
Very few wingers are found at that age,
by then the damage is usually done.
To maintain good health, before the body gives out
You need to know how to let go.
Patience can cease to be a virtue,
when it becomes known.
Another is having a lend of you,
your own authority they control.
And how do they control you,
the list is too long to name.
But in brief,
It's through your own belief systems,
the upper hand they may gain.
" Now don't get me started ", he said
" Life's filled with examples galore.
To get me going down this track,
so easy to become the bore."
" More important, keep the cup half full,
to focus on positives in life.
To be in service to another,
with no brownie points, as they bite."
The other thing he's noticed,
since old friendships have dropped off.
Is a life filled with fewer people,
clearer in their lot.
As the lad who stays with him,
reminding him once again.
That in a life of service to others,
still traps there do remain.
With a DVO against him,
his three boys he's devoted to.
Still prepared to be the doormat,
under foot of his partner,
as they reel from one crisis,
to the next.
The risk he takes,
is to become as she in serving his own ends.
If the truth be known it is already there,
locked away,
waiting to come out.
For those who are always the victim,
blaming others for the cause of lifes' strife.
Most will scream with fear,
when they learn to look _ in their own mirror of life.
For love is not only blind,
it is also deaf.
You cannot teach another,
experiences of life, for yourself,
they must be learnt.
And in his love for his children,
a jewell is also found.
The essence of creators love,
in the example of this young man.
Living by example,
has a melody like music.
Across all cultures _ a universal language,
to communicate.
And the example, his father gives him.
is not lost on those who observe.
The example carries the message,
where words only tend to confuse.
Dig a little deeper,
Surely _ other polarities you will find.
But try to mind our own business,
or become the equal of creator,
at least in our own mind.
Believe half of what you see,
and nothing what you hear.
Analyse anothers feelings,
to paralyse your mind.
- O -
" Be guided by spirit,
as the old soldier will testify.
When the lessons are to be learnt.
some focus should apply,"
This jewell has many facets,
though to most appear just as words.
Trapped by belief systems,
bringing comfort in times of need.
Take away this illusion,
for trees in the forest can be seen.
Breathe in the fresh air of life,
filtered by freedom to explore.
For once you have embraced this,
and recapture the innocence inside.
Belief systems lose their power over you,
your own authority remains.
The proof is in the eating,
no one recipe shows the way.
A salad bowl of outcomes,
creation at its tastiest.
Judgmental belief systems,
that guide through life's strife.
Release them and become the creative chef,
in the salad bowl of life.
- O -
One bye one _ the message came,
a sense common to them all.
The worm has turned
they _ chose which way
the last now to look in the mirror.
- O -
© 2003 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Close to the bone _
Close to the bone _
