See if you can catch yourselfcomplaining in either speech or thought, about a situation you find yourself in, what other people do or say, your surroundings, your life situation, even the weather. To complain is always nonacceptance of what is. It invariably carries an unconscious negative charge. When you complain, you make yourself a victim. Leave the situation or accept it. All else is madness.
Tired and twisted, only its home did fail, the rusty nail remained on the mound of the fire’s ash; the young monk swept it up to put it in the trash.
Bhagavan stayed the monk and questioned him, if all he held was junk? Picking out the nail, rusty and bent, the monk asked Bhagavan what he meant.
‘We have a pile of nails, brand new, all clean and true.’ The monk confused as Bhagavan responded that everything useful should be used.
‘Clean the nail and make it straight; Pick up the mustard seed that fell off the plate; A life led living in excess does not gift the world with success.
Written (later) for the GloPoWriMo Day 9 prompt: try writing a poem that uses rhyme, but without adhering to specific line lengths.
I chuckled at the wiry youth Secreting products from the shelves Under his coat, down his pants “Don’t be too obvious!” I said And let him be on his way
All those hours sat a desk, The dreaded corporate cubicle, Surfing the net on big business dime Planning a future for myself Fuck ’em if they’re this inefficient
And so when the falling down stood up To burn the factory to the ground Fists were raised in a tragic solidarity We stuck it to the man, at least Until we had to go back to work
Some really good friends of mine They blew up a factory No one really knows how it happened And they are still running free And I think it’s funny…
…and leading to memories of a couple of my jobs.
The first stanza happened when I was working at a popular supermarket in Sydney. The job I enjoyed but I hated the manager so much that I just didn’t care about people stealing stuff.
The second stanza details my corporate years where ideas for improvement were always rejected because no one could be found to pay for them. This meant about five years of maintaining a functioning system and starting up a secondary business as a hobby while there. Fuck ’em!
The third stanza imagines the idea of sympathy for the guy in Falling Down losing his mind and blowing up his place of work, followed by the realisation that we still need to go to work the next day to get our proverbial dollar.
investigating insects burrow down through the carpet of needles
soft and damp upheavals a dripping darkness
with no echo wolf eyes watching? it feels so
stilted humid breath whispers into the silent depth
withers dull and dissipated
joining in accumulated silent wings
flapping the quiet life within
Written (later) for the GloPoWriMo prompt Day 14: Imagine the “music” of a place without people in it. So today, try writing a poem that describes a place, particularly in terms of the animals, plants or other natural phenomena there. Sink into the sound of your location, and use a conversational tone. Incorporate slant rhymes (near or off-rhymes, like “angle” and “flamenco”) into your poem. And for an extra challenge – don’t reference birds or birdsong! This poem references Queen’s Copse, Holtwood, Dorset, England. A place I often visited in my youth.
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