One evening she stayed, that’s all,
But, you could always tell, by the
Music in your ears and in your heart,
And, Toilet roll strewn across the floor.

little frightened sad and angry
big and mean and very handy
someone who is full o life
another who would take a wife
then the little baby scared to be
these are all flavours and colours of me

A friend who worries continuously is faced with some real challenges in her life. She makes things worse with incessant worry. Her mind, starved of peace, leads her to the wrong actions time after time. The right actions she can not see, despite them offering themselves boldly to her. Her worry stands in the way. This week she came to me for advice, the day after I found this old poem and I was able to say, “work out what you can do and take right action and work out what you can’t do and learn to accept”.

Whats Worrying Me?

If worry could solve things,
That would be real fine,
I’d worry like a madman,
Nearly all the time,
I’d worry ’bout my money,
And my health and God,
And if we must experiment,
On cats and dogs,
I’d worry ’bout the Buddha,
If he cries at me,
And worry ’bout my breakfast,
And me afternoon tea,
But most of all I’d worry,
‘Bout what’s worrying me.

I can’t say and I won’t say is all he says today,
Another day I may come, if you ask me out to play.
But for the being time, or the time being for, I
Can only do what I do and that is not any more.
It is what I do now and will do till the day I die,
For when I stop the doing there’ll not be another try.

Flower

You are not dirty
You are purer than snow
What you did to survive
Allowed you to grow

Now you are growing
Brighter each day
Shining a light
Following the way

Sometimes it will feel
Like there’s no end in sight
Just remember that truth
Will always win out

Be careful and safe
While you travel the path
Your beauty will draw men
Like moths to a flame

But they’ll never see you
For the girl that you are
Until you can see you
And know who you are

So welcome home friend
It’s good to know you
To help you to flower
And grow into you

Feedback is a beautiful thing.
(btw Shyloh is a beautiful woman).
Without feedback the writer wilts.
Like a flower in old water.

by Matthew.

Can you have Html in a poem? Does it form part of the verse? x Matthew

The Net Effect

I can’t be angry or even cry
Though time is passing quickly by.
Each day I wonder how to try
And try to wonder where am I?
Who am I and what am I?
A person passing quickly by?
Seeing nothing quite so strange,
Each and every waking day.
As weapons burn and break the babes,
And children, children waste away.
And anger, still she stays at bay,
Not letting me feel that this day.

I have just been told
I am an individual.
The shock is with me still.
For my sword and my shield have gone now,
My cloak and my hat have too.
Left only with myself,
I don’t know what to do.

Poem from a Dharmic soul - words spring to my mind. They are usually simple and short. This one I wrote some years ago now. Sometimes it takes a while for the Dharma of the song to sink in and become the practitioners reality.

It’s the world out there,
Doing it to me.
Making me unhappy,
Not letting me be free.
The truth’s a little different,
Now I start to see.
The problem isn’t in the world,
It’s in my sense of me.

Stumbling from obstacle to obstacle,

Obscuring them with drugs and busyness.

When approached the body locks and

The mind begins to freeze. A

tinkling tingling buzz begins,

An electric frenzy felt as anxiety.

Energy tiggerishness hiding fear

Hiding sadness hiding pain hiding.

Runing. When you can no longer hide from yourself run

Away, reinvent, find a new suit of armour.

Feels like home for a while,

Forgetting, busy being what has become.

Then the questions start again,

Where who what when????

What does this hole inside my whole divide?

This pain of what was done remains,

A Gossamer diaphragm holding.

Breath down below under caved chest,

Do you think, I ever rest?

Recited by the Author MP3 1Mb