Real Warrior

The real warrior lives and dies each moment,

Every second a miracle disarmed; a holy war, a teardrop,

A noble death, a loving gesture.


No time to pause, no way to forestall

The unfolding jewels on a string;

Colourful the beads that reflect such a transient marvel.


Who wields the sword?  Who cuts the air?

Swept divine expressions over black canvas.

The sharpest edge enlightens the heathens vision,

A feast of showering, porous sparks.


Within plains of hollowed out time

The lonesome moon grows and deepens;

Filled with melancholy when looking upstream,

On the river, in the flow.

Leading us lightly and lucid,

Whittling circles to untraceable homes.


We stream together

Falling through the cracks we create,

Past the bows of fabled oaks;

In forgotten majesty we are expanding,

The weight of a white feather

And no more.


Passing through unknowable feats scented

With barley and iron,

Across the ripple lake sentence,

Out of sight.


The mighty firs stoop to take a peek

This alternate nature enacted,

Little wren is busy, not hidden from delight

Or far from the fields where a family feud

Returned life to the soil.


Not to remember one breath

Or wrap one self in what may come,

Breath comes and goes, without force,

All is one.


Real warrior, born without;

Swallow the sun, turn back to reality;

In light, far from the cries of sanity.

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The mohawk rider,

The brave;

Alone in the great plains,

No slave.



The lonesome cowboy,

The lame;

Forever seeking a land,

Bringing shame.


Follow the buffalo

Until the winter closes in,

Then rest in houses

Made of skins.


From this good earth

We cannot live as strangers,

Free to walk these lands

Banish tyranny that maims us.


When Cortez made his first cut

We bled as one nation,

Till the last drop leaves

We shall fight for our dreams.


To think of history

Smouldering still like ash,

When once we shone like the sun

And will again.

Standing true in the madness man made,

Traditions vital, not to fade.


There is no justice without forgiveness.

The words of our ancestors

Are caught in the wind,

Speaking from the hidden valleys,

An old drum sounding from within.


In this great expanse of the human heart

May we as one claim only peace

And end the war of him.






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Satish Kumar – Education with Hands, Hearts and Heads

How to be happy here?  How to live on earth in peace?  Where to start?

“Nature is not good or bad.  Nature just is.”

A couple of inspirational clips showing Satish Kumar explaining a new way of educating our children and our societies in general, explaining a more sustainable approach to a life in greater harmony with nature, respecting our great diversity which only highlights union, be who we are, embody our experience, be the change, become the leaders in a brighter future…….together we can change the world and we can start by caring for our planet, nurturing the soil, feeding our bodies, feeding our souls, then feeding our minds.

“We are all related, we are one, lets us celebrate that diversity!”


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Savitri – Sri Aurobindo

I recently visited Auroville, Tamil Nadu, India for the second time, a place I find deeply inspiring.  Auroville is a community envisaged by the sage Sri Aurobindo, a place free of binds to nations or corporations.  A work in progress, a place that strives to embody a new society based on sound ethics and virtue, a positive vision of how we could live in various degrees of harmony.  

I had not read Aurobindos poetry until recently and when I did, felt deeply moved by the potency and diversity of his work. Here are two small exerts from Savitri, regarded by many as his most profound and essential writing.


“and he saw like one walking into a dream

some timeless beauty and reality,

the moon-gold sweetness of heaven’s

earth-born child.”

“a few can climb to an unperishing sun,

or live on the edge of the mystic moon

and channel to earth-mind the

wizard way.”

“The two longing to join, yet walk apart,

Idly divided by their vain conceits;

They are kept from their oneness by enchanted fears;

Sundered mysteriously by miles of thought,

They gaze across the silent gulfs of sleep.”

“A marvellous sun looked down from ecstasy’s skies

On worlds of deathless bliss, perfection’s home,

Magical unfoldings of the Eternal’s smile

Capturing his secret heart-beats of delight.”


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A Peaceful Break


The way sweetness melts effortlessly from the heart eclipsing  all things,

The way infinity calls internally of a marriage with bliss so close,

The way we sit and wonder as majestic stars leave us disarmed.


To listen through the sound of rain, to become the grey clouds and clear sky,

To touch the earth, gently rested, merging with nature and the festival of seasons,

To seek love within the great furnace of creation and return with immutable nought,

To peacefully break the binds of earthly bondage and realise divine union in the feintest

Flaming rapture and flickering truth,

To meditate upon the mighty mountains floating in the vastness of the open seas,

To become immersed fully in the voyage of existence, at a point one step equals them all.

To no longer fear our shadows and this darkened revolution,

To transcend the minds rich veil and retire within the light of purest perception.


When the flow is felt, a gentle hand guiding, far beyond instinct and sense,

There can be no delay in the great surrendering.


Now we are freed, now we are inconceivable, now we are invincible,

May we as one alight, enticed by our inherent potential released!

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When the Music Stirred Edward



when the music stirs ohio,

streets are on fire,

dancing feet; chi vapours,

child shadow, voices in heads.


come dance on the streets,

she moves in ripples,

like child in sand,

come dance with me,

angel come down;


there can be no losers in

these virgin moves.

we learn as we burn

by turnpikes we turned right.

we are safe in the certainty of

all the things we don’t know,

staying young and doubtful.


the world joins when we dance;

just a touch

in seamless fields

where we love; one motion,

one act, one giant wave in the tears of broken hearts,

broken messiahs and the chronic mission.


the mountains moved legion

beneath cracked heels,

after all these revolutions,

ages of tyrants and fate,

dreams still steady as the sky,

endlessly open, endless oceans;

falling! falling! falling! (for something)

never real.


mother, please know that

i’m no longer dying,

no longer taking for granted

the storm signs that weathered

my soul,

certain to suffer freely

without remorse.


the teachings unearthed were wise grains,

in drums and strings


one step east

and we recline

in the easy chairs of liberation

(and a full refund with extras).


so i wear my make up hard,

life is dressing up,

losing your head and

growing it back again;

falling deeply into grooves,

all components lost and found

to feel silent and humble,

mute models of perfection in

spiralling implications of true beauty



one cloud migrating, no longer strange,

no longer longing, no longer desirable;

just desire, not wanting to pray anymore.

i love this here.


my maker, help me to the sun,

i reach for you to become

the stars and forgotten corners,

to be come courageous in the dark,

close my eyes in final peace.


i wish you to sweetly dissolve in

one effortless leap of true


a child again, at play,

changing trains in mindless states;

pushing off into never never land

for good.


on the road, still far gone,

caught way down the line,

wishful and fearful of death

in equal measure;


when i woke as a Burmese monk, in a dream,

i was murdered for what i believe.

a bullet in the brow and I was no more.


mother call; to live fresh in now.

down here; into light, into sound.

not turning cold shoulders on love

in this dawn of jilted lovers.

not to feign bliss, fake the freedoms to be found;

but to live immersed

in the higher heart, suffused with soul

and carefree verve.


When the music stirred Edward,

many apples came calling

and hope fell (BANG!) from the tree.

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The Death of a Pomegranate

The pomegranate falls when ripe,

Shedding vibrant life force into the

Grateful dust.


Without loss or gain;

A minor exchange,

The mind conjures a brutal conspiracy,

The straining troubadours lament.


Vivid crimson kissed on the jagged rocks;

Seeds tossed for the birds to snaffle and return.

Bright fragrance permeates such a scene,

Evocative senses jolt the ledge.


What can foolish tiger skins hide?

Beneath the shadows of the pomegranate tree

We are no longer opaque in lustrous cloth

Or white marble flesh.


Just a musk that lingers to sever chastity

And febrile tendencies;

We are ever drawn to taste these broken fruits,

To join the dancing shades of life.


Let innocence fail carelessly,

Trust it.

When it lands, settles,

It will be simple then,

Without rival or roots.



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