When

When all is said

and done

there'll be nothing to say

and nothing to do

When all is said

and done

just be quiet

and inactive

Revolution

They sought redemption

from oppression

they tried supplication

and persuasion

they tried protest

civil disruption

and when all these failed

to relieve the situation

they accepted violence

as their road to salvation

---

when all was said and all was done

and millions were laid in dark mass graves

the revolution, so hard won

asked the harder question,

What Now?

And wise answer was there none.

A Different Song

I cannot sing your song my friend

I cannot sing your song

though you lilt and cry and softly sigh

I cannot sing your song

Your song is yours not mine my friend

your song is yours for ever

but my song's in a different key

and your song will be mine never

My song is silence, loudly sung

it echoes over all the Earth

I'll sing it on my dying day

as I've sung it since my birth

Toto Going up the Stairs

He goes up the stairs

like the old man that he is

gingerly, slowly

it must be hard climbing

when you have four legs

not two

One day he won't be able to climb them

another day he won't be able to live bearably

on that day we'll have to take him down the stairs

put him into the cat basket

and take him to the vets

and come back without him

then who will I watch climb the stairs?

Definition

When you are Zen you are not zen

but let's imagine for now

that you are Zen

When you are Zen

you are not political

artistic

creative

entrepreneurial

a teller of heritage tales

When you are Zen

you are not Dada

Surrealism

Leonard Cohen

the Beats

On The Road

Gary Snyder

Easy Rider

Calligraphy

or most of all

haiku or tanka

When you are Zen

you are nothing

or almost nothing

but within that nothing

the fullness of you blossoms

and you are limitless

and all of this

is nonsense of course

Boxed

People fit neatly into their box

like they fit neatly into their suits

or their cool trainers

or their rap lyrics

or their crown jewels

Nice little boxes

wonderful huge boxes

How they love to decorate

and display their box

Zen Koan

What is poetry doing in Zen?

a waste of precious time

writing doodles

haiku is sudoku in words

sudoku is for those who want to waste time

poetry the pretension of grace and intellect

So why do all these Zen folk write poems?

They can't help it, I guess.

There's something about blossom

the yellow moon

and the long trek back to the temple

that switches on the writing gene

watching frogs climb a well

may as well watch a Zen priest

climb into the well

there's no water in the well

you know that well

everyone agrees

Zen is not zen is zen

poetry is not poetry

time is not time

unless it is well wasted

Journey

I am tied to the mast

I can hear the Sirens wail

My body is tied fast

I feel like I'm in jail

I strive to break free

snap the ropes and swim ashore

the more I urge against their song

I simply want it more

I give in to my jailer

Let the Sirens sing

Peace becomes my atmosphere

I hear the silence ring

The mast disappears

the ropes fall at my feet

The Sirens change their song

to one that spells defeat

A Different Connection

Disconnected from the surface

connected to the depth

the land I'm in feels alien

but the world I'm in is home

the surface headlines

and culture

skims off me like I'm teflon

I cannot connect

can't get inside

but somewhere else

the oak trees

and the burn

the shadows of deer at night

and foxes and badgers and rabbits

at play in my woods while I'm asleep

connected with the setts and the settlers

much though I try

I feel a soul apart

from those who should be my kin

it's them not me

it's me not them

we're just not meant to click

but somewhere else

the secret quiet

the opening of the hand

of thought

and letting go of everything that is

so that nothing can come in its place

and fill me with emptiness

this is a different

a better

 a full

connection

Looking

Seek and ye shall find

not true

not true at all

Don't seek and ye shall find

that's the way

the world turns

Ye seek and find what you don't need

ye seek and find what fills your greed

ye seek and find what's poor indeed

Don't seek and ye shall find

The truth's not out there

it's inside

the truth's humility

not your pride

The truth's the bridesmaid

not the bride

Don't seek and ye shall find

There is much much more

inside yourself

than you'll ever find outside

Don't seek

don't you seek

don't seek

and ye shall find

Disappointment

Twelve pounds down the drain

down the drain

down the drain

Twelve pounds down the drain

I bought a book and hated it

I thought it would inspire me

inspire me

inspire me

I thought it would inspire me

but all I read did nothing

I hoped I'd see a better world

better world

better world

I hoped I'd see a better world

but just saw the same old same one

Twelve pounds down the drain

down the drain

down the drain

Twelver pounds down the drain

I bought a book and hated it

The Great Pretender

I pretend to pretend

pretend that this whole world

is a sub-atomic illusion

pretend that we are not whole

but holes

pretend that all our evil deeds

are just instinctive compulsions

from poorly-evolved minds

but when all the pretending's over

and I look into the basin of reality...

well, what?

it's not even there

no reality

not a whiff of it about

to see a world in a grain of sand?

there is no grain

there is no world.

Soft Rain

I hear the softness of the rain outside

I'm inside

Why am I not out there getting soaked?

Farewell Again

Farewell to you, beloved ones

I didn't get to know

except through photographs and tales

of wars and joys and woe

Farewell to you, dear mum and dad

we tried to make it gel

to light the fuse, ignite the love

but truth, it's hard to tell

And you my beauty, brother-boy

who crashed right off the road

you wrecked yourself and those you loved

and left a heavy load

And sister, dear, yes love we had

warmer as the cancer spread

we worked at it, we made it spark

to burn even when we're both dead

Books

Books on my table

book on my shelf

books in the office

books for myself

books in the bathroom

books everywhere

books in the post

books on the stair

books in the kitchen

books in the hall

books in my mind

and my heart most of all

The Glass

I need to fill my glass

with cold, clear water

I need it for my class

as the evening's getting hotter

I take it to the tap

and make it only half-full

yet my glass overflows

and it always will

My glass, this water

its pure, clear stream

will fill your heart with joy

and make your spirit gleam

I need to fill my life

with cold, clear water

Seeing Things

I have seen it for myself

thought it too good to be true

when I first read of it

so I determined to take a pilgrimage

a skeptical, suspicious, pilgrimage

thinking it too good to be true

and it was.

Sitting there, doing nothing.

Sitting there, predictable.

Sitting there, no surprise at all.

Sitting there, not special.

I had thought it was too good to be true

and it was

it was true

and good

beyond thought

because it was nothing

because it was predictable

because it held no surprise

because it was not special

it was

Time to Rest

Time to rest

for now

time to be still

time to take stock

time to have no stock

to take

time to leave behind

all that ought to have been left behind

so long ago

it's time to let go of time

time to let go of those times

time to go

and

rest

Travelogue

We crossed the bridge that wasn't there

and climbed the stairs that led nowhere

took our bags to the train station

hopped on to no destination

when we arrived we were nowhere

and enjoyed ourselves without a care

it was always thus, it is always so

there really is no place to go

This

This didn't exist you see

it wasn't here in any way

it was built in an instant

it only appeared today

How on Earth did it get here?

What on Earth made it come?

Before it appeared it seems

We were all blind, deaf, and dumb

Now it exists in this format

We can't change it in any way

If we touch it, we'll break it completely

Let's leave it alone for today

Let's leave it alone forever

It wasn't here, but now it exists

Let nature or God choose its future

Or Fate with its turns and its twists

This just appeared in an instant

it only turned up today

it didn't exist before then

and now it is here to stay.

Now it is here to stay

Yes now it is here to stay.

Every Day

Every day is different

though it always looks the same

same street

same photos on the wall

Every day astonishing

though there's nothing new to see

same tea, same breakfast

nothing new for me

Every day, every moment of that day

everything changed

nothing has stayed the same

can we see?

Same photos on the wall

son and daughter

dad and grandad

man and wife

Same old books on the table

All Creatures So Precious

What The Buddha Taught

What Matters? by Wendell Berry

My mixed up muesli for breakfast

my green tea just right every time

Nothing new to see today

just the astonishing day.

Not Interested

Some folk like to polish things up

make it perfect

pure and clean

I am not that kind of person

I like things just as they are

just as they emerge

I am not interested

not interested in the perfect thing

I want it to be real

and perfection doesn't feel real to me

What is imperfect is perfect to me

Space

I give you space

I hope you heal

I even think

I know how you feel

but you need time

to find your roots

lots of space

to bear fruit

in time the vulnerability goes

in time the old you will start to shine

a little sadder, wiser too

a better, quiter, sombre you

I think you know

how I know you feel

Give yourself space

and you will heal

Poison and its cure

Poison in the water

poison in the air

poison in the seven seas

poison everywhere

need to clean the poison up

need to clean it all

one drop at a time my friends

start with something small

slowly poison ebbs away

water becomes clear

air and seas restore themselves

Paradise is here

We know darkness and despair

poison, and its cure

take contaminents away

and everything is pure

Jobs

Painting the bench

going nowhere

writing a letter to my son

nearly lunchtime

a taxi drives by

I need to repair a mug

Japanese gold style

sun shines as it does

in Scotland, interrupted by cloud

a breeze blows

and green is greener than green here

I can't work out the tech

to complete a task

I want completed

so it'll have to wait

maybe forever

a delivery truck draws up

a parcel for me in lockdown?

no

it goes further along the road

I bought a kid's book

All Creatures So Precious

because the author's surname was mine

Nancy Ione Stepek

nice name

I may write a children's book

reflecting mindfulness

already done recordings for someone else's

Always stuff to do

always stuff to write

about stuff to be done

I need to get back to that letter

for my son

I have been there but I've never been there

I've been there

Hiroshima

It's a beautiful, modern city

large wonderful gardens

stunning buildings

I've been there

Auschwitz

my namesake died there

It's in a lovely part of Poland

I've been to Maczkowce in Ukraine

or what once went by that name

now a huge field of wheat

once my father's birthplace and home

I've been to Glencoe

its dark, brooding mood

and it's bright, greenfilled moors and hills

I've been to Mostar

crossed the old bridge

a few years before it was blown up

I've been around the block

and back

We've been around the block

and back

The old Taoist punchline goes

"Who knows what's good or bad in this world?"

I'm only alive because Hitler and Stalin

made a deal to carve up Poland.

Good for me but not for their victims.

Still the Taoists are correct.

We can't know the unintended consequences of events.

All we can do is think clearly and try our best.

When you look at Hiroshima today

you see what can grow out of ashes and burnt flesh.

Existence

Existence exists

but may not know it does

we exist

or at least

we think we exist

if we do exist

many of us live our lives

barely aware that this is the case

Green Tea

A cup of green tea

sits beside me

staying warm enough

to feel less than hot

more than tepid

I take a sip

and a small part of China

enters my body

I look at the mug

an Indigenous Australian

painting of a crocodile

enters my mind

the Scottish water, tea-flavoured,

still warm

heats my stomach

I am green tea

global

green tea, content

Non-action as Art

To refrain

to refrain from creating

is an act of creation

especially when it comes to landscape

and nature

to want to create

then to leave alone

is to allow nature

its own creative place

and space

let art be

by letting nature be

in the more cerebral sphere

to refrain from creating

is to create space

silence

magnitude of emptiness

in which we can all absorb just being

and this in itself is a creative act

a work of art

Silent Words

When words approach silence

they have great meaning

when there is silence

words are redundant

Sounds from the next room - a dream retold

The world has been hit by a comet

it missed me thankfully

but seems to have crashed into the room

next to me

The TV there must be obliterated

When a room beside you

has been smashed to pieces

by a comet

but everything else is intact

it must have been a tiny comet

don't you think?

don't you think?

perhaps you don't

the sounds from the next room

have now ceased

and there is no room there

any more

why did my mind

create a dream like this?

the next room is fine

I'm sure you'll be delighted to know.

Food of love

Songs

play in my head

on vinyl

album covers

present themselves

to my eyes

unseeing

a single note

from a guitar

parades in my ears

an entire song

over decades

and above all else

the trumpet

in Alone Again Or

people really are

the greatest fun

Haiku Puzzle: Nature collides with Science

Is most of science wrong?
from starlings to nightingales
strange clocks run your life

weird but wonderful
the population declined
high-flying microbes

what makes you tick, talk
follow in the footsteps now
simply for profit

You tune into Spring
Isaac Newton pondering
deciduous trees

Unreality

the door bell rings

there's no one there

I welcome them in

but they say

No thank you

so I offer them a cup of tea

which they enjoy

without taking it

Sequence on Futures

1. the glass shard

falls in time with

an old Scots air

and the future

unguessed

is born

of a past blessed

and loved

2. a future imagined

is not a future lived

as life is present

and present is the conversation

we need to have

but don't

3. a future unknown

seemingly possible

never realised

never now

4. perfection tomorrow

there is no tomorrow

there is no perfection

5. a small glass

of water contains

all time

all life

all space

Interrupted

Am interrupted

disrupted

my thinking corrupted

I want to focus

not someone else's hocus pocus

and see, now I've lost my locus

ah!

the interruption's gone

I reframe my space and carry on

these worlds keep slipping in and out

I don't grasp what that's all about

so I choose silence, dispel doubt

dispel doubt

dispel all doubt

choose silence

Sun's Out

No sooner had I observed

the clouding of the sky

and written to preserve that moment

at least for a time

than the sun came back out

the grass greener once again

the fir trees gleam

shadows appear where there were none

the breeze flows still life into film

the world has changed

the white sky is even brighter

too bright to stare at

moments pass my happy eyes

Going Cloudy - An Observation

The sun was beaming this morning

well before eight

I went out the back door

felt the freshness of the warm air

turned the corner

and the sunlight hit me

like a gift from heaven

that was then.

now, just two hours later

it's going cloudy.

the sky is white

not a bit of blue to be seen

not even shades of grey

just bright white

the grass looks less green

the trees and bushes too

the breeze blows them into life

and a still image becomes film

to my eyes

a blackbird flies by

nesting material in its mouth

Hamilton

I tried to write about Hamilton

but the laptop Gods didn't allow me

They kept punting me

to give advice to business people

but I wanted to tell the world

or the two people who might read this

that my town, Hamilton,

is a real place

with real people

with real issues and loves and losses

and pettiness and gravitas

and that I love my home town

because it is where my roots are

deep deep down beneath the Cadzow Burn

deep deep beneath even the mined tunnels under

where Hamilton's legendary Palace once stood

deep deep beneath the Museum

and the Town Hall

and the County Buildings

and St Mary's school where I went to first when I was five

and the church of the same name

my roots are deeper than the laptop Gods

more important than advice to business people

my roots are fundamental to the existence of all living things

on this fair beauty of a planet

and they are enmeshed embraced

ungulfed

in Hamilton

which I love

Flow

I didn't expect to be here

it wasn't in my plan

I had no plan, to be sure

but even if I had one

I wouldn't have planned to be here

So why am I here?

Ask yourself the same question.

As Talking Heads sang

How did I get here?

Well that's easy actually

I got her by walking into this room

and sitting down here

That's the easy bit.

The hard bit is

why on Earth did I decide to come here

and do this

and for that I have no answer

but flow

It's all just flow

and when it's all just flow

there's no need for plans

because despite all your fancy, detailed, impressive thinking

it still comes down to flow.

That's why I am here

wherever here happens to be

from one moment to another

til I die

til I die

til I die

Addicted to Books

I don't have books

they have me

they force me to buy them

then they sit part-read

abandoned on my desk

or randomly put on shelves

waiting for me to return

to interest in their subject

occasionally I do

but mostly I let them be

unopened

unwanted

after my initial urgent need

while I go online

to order another book

Quiet

When we are quiet

we are not

When quiet

not

When we are

we are not quiet

When quiet is

we are not

When quiet is us

we are quiet

and quiet and us

become quieter

until only silence exists

The Time is not yet Nigh

The time is not yet nigh

The time is waiting for time

Meanwhile the woodpigeon

Is the rhythm section

And the laptop’s hiss the backing vocalists

I prepare hard to be unprepared

Honing my authenticity

So that every breath seems real

Though I am breathless

And deathless

Nine Photographs

I have taken nine photos

Works of art

Abstractish

Achieves the day

hits the daily rate

Create create

Attain the rate

Nothing much to say

A photo paints a thousand words

Yet I can’t paint a word

The words that lie below

The glamour of our lives

So where does credit fit

Amongst the rural dives

Where swallows beg for audience

And starlings cry for more