Poem

What Search for Meaning

What search for meaning reveals:

The getting of meaning
Is intrinsically linked to the act
of giving meaningfully.

Giving meaningfully entails the giving of one’s truth:
with clear purpose,
with whole heart,
with whole mind,
from and through the centre of one’s whole being,
toward a universal whole.

Unconditional and uncompromising
the gesture of meaningful giving
ends the search.

A pathway unfolds: with each step
there is making,
there is meaning,
there is adversity,
there is rigour,
there is discovery,
and there is
becoming

 

Martinos LB @ 2019

True Self

Our selves are what we get about in
they are made of atoms, each one
billions of years old,
our selves are made from stars.

I have a self and you have a self;
how do you take care of your self?
what do you say to your self?
do you treat it well as it helps you get about
and interact with other selves?

Your self is an intriguing paradox
as it is both unique and similar to all other selves. 
Interestingly, you didn’t make your self, one day it just arrived for you,
and one day you will have to leave it.

In the interim you can ask:
What is to be true to your self?
When are you truly with your self?
And what truth lives beyond your self?

Martinos LB @ 2019

Sunday Prayer

at sunrise, a delicate film of low mist
feathers the grass plain
and camphor-laurel stand

an  occasional treetop
appears  as an island
amidst the gentle soft-air sea

the purple pink tinge of heaven
and deep-green night shadow
as must, retreat to make way

for this, a Sunday prayer on
peacefulness, and for what
is luminous in things

Martinos © 2019

Clearest Voice

heart to heart, is
the clearest strongest voice

as a river
of song and light

it will move the immovable
find the natural flow

and bring us to the source
from whence we came

more open
to what we can become

Martinos © 2019

busybusybusy

dingly dingly
wickety wackety
overflow ongoing
crickety crackety
all of the dang-en,
the dingin the dongin and
onagain onagain
bingbangin and bongin

snippety snippety
spinagain spitagain
flatabout backwardsing
flatabout forwardsing
sobusy thisbusy
toobusy stressfactor
not slowing till rictus
or blowups and messfactor

notlearning notlistening
gofigures upratcheting
notseeing nothearing
ambivalence hatcheting
all in the dingly the
wickety wack
the edge up approaching
with no coming back

 

martinos © 2015

The Choice We Made to Kill the King

You just ran over a snake   she cried
The ute tyering heavily across the leaf strewn bitumen on the way home
I pulled up immediately to look into the rear view
And there it was flaying the air
Struggling for the fluid movement it no longer possessed
Such a creature – magnificent light brown – sleek powerful and known to be deadly
A two metre adult King Brown snake

We sat and watched it curl and recurl
Unable to move beyond the road
One third down its back had been crushed – what to do for this writhing being?
I’ll go home to get the shovel and come back    I said
Should you just leave it    she asked  –   my darling Jan concerned for my wellbeing
Yeah I have to – can’t leave it to suffer and die a lingering death

I returned five minutes later to the same spot
The shadows across the road making it hard to see the Brown and it’s broken magnificence
I picked up the long handled shovel and stepped carefully out of the car
I stood for several minutes perplexed – what was the right thing to do?
Kill it or leave it – which was more humane?
A voice in my head reminded me that most people bitten by snakes are trying to do them harm at the time they’re bitten – I checked myself
A cocktail of emotions bubbling inside my gut
sorrow – pity – fear – concern – wonder – guilt – maybe grief
the wounded king who was once magnificent now broken by my wheel

I stood immobilised unable to decide
And then returned home to call my cousin Chris – I needed his counsel – his brotherhood
Chris is a man of the earth – a wiry wiley soul – his hair often spiked with the dried salt licks from his last surf – his eyes full of spark and purpose – a man to trust – a man to turn the soil with

I called him and we spoke for a bit – probably should kill it he said – yeah probably best – I’ll be up the hill in a bit – I’ll bring my gun he said as he hung up

A little later he pulled up – I jumped in beside him and his gun – better bring your shovel he said – so I did

We drove the two kilometres back to the spot – the Brown had not moved beyond the place of its crushing
You can hardly see it in the shade   Chris said    no wonder you ran over it
Can’t use the gun – too close to the houses he mused

Without hesitation Chris drove again over the deadly king – there was no more deliberation – what had to be done had to be done

We left the car – it’s head is still moving     I said
Carefully, carefully in full regard  Chris inched forward and delivered the death blow with the shovel blade behind its head

The snake was dead

On the way back to the house we talked about the snake with great reverence – a creature of the wild that we admire and for the most part fear

Chris shared that a snake of that size would feed a family for a few days – we reflected on how this country’s first people’s – our indigenous brothers and sisters have a deep relationship with all its creatures and would have given thanks for this King’s ultimate surrender

Chris dropped me at the front of our place
Thanks for your help bro – I said – such a shame about the snake
Yeah he said – it happens
It was the choice we had to make

I waved him down the hill

Yes it was – and I will never forget the day we had to make it

The choice to kill the king.

 

Martinos © 2018

tread well together

in us
a need
to be understood

as the thirst
of grass
for soft feet

on this ground
may we tread well
together

martinos © 2018

Your Name in a Poem

Agape to Eros

Of all the ways

To read
Your name
In a poem

To touch you
With words

Read again
Over and over

And again

Martinos @ 2018

to love

for Jan

Turn to love, turn

        see a heaven in her eye

Your heart set sail

        And then the sky

 

Martinos © 2018

Us All

Dedicated to Ray Carver – (silent mentor beloved)

 

All of us  all of us  all of us

Round about caught and from there

Sideways up to the temple 

And downways downwards with care

 

A nod to the other quick to the sway

A walk in the street or the fell

A cradle a grave to stand and then stare

Each of us one step away

 

Was the doctor the soldier

Was the nurse was the priest

Was the pilot the driver

Was the teacher bequeathed

 

Where we are when we go

When we are what we know

As the wind and the weather to the rock and the rune

With the way that it is in the relative soon

 

With the how and the what

There’s a say, there’s a choice 

A movement, a difference

A tenable voice 

 

A something to offer, a something to leave 

A possible gift each child can receive 

Each of us can if some of us will

Act on our conscience that’s calling us still

 

All of us    all of us    all of us   

All of us     all of us         all

 

 

Martinos © 2018

We See Not the World

We see not the world the way it is
But as we are

However, what if we could?

Or at least
What if we could get closer
To seeing the world the way it is?

How could we do this?

How could we, with a kind of clarity
see the ‘Isness’ of the world?
See it the way it is?

Would we need to see the lens we look through?
To see our seeing

Would we need to see what needed to be suspended?
The bias
The judgement
The automatic patterns of naming and believing

And if these were suspended, might we:
Explore again
Curiously
With beginner’s mind

Without the filters of our:
Hurts and fears
Fixed beliefs
Attachments
And fundamentalism’s

Might we discover a way to describe, relate, connect
To the world afresh?

Might we discover a possibility for new choice
And be newly formed?

By seeing our seeing unfiltered
Seeing, as if for the first time
The ‘Isness’ of the world

And if this were possible

What then?

Martinos ©. 2018