Superstitions are fun.
I hope
trust
&
barely believe.
Bless this day.

Je Suis Charlie
A few minutes was enough
a smattering of bullets
a cascade of hate
rained down
out of a cloud
loaded with purpose
ammunition
attrition
a mission.
Twelves apostles of humour
twelve souls of freedom
twelve bodies.
In the name of Abraham
and all the shared scars
like wounds from a bloody god
7 January 2015
Sing the song of the flight to life.
Carry your soul in your old kit bag.
Carry your city with every breath.
Carry your loves well packed in tissue.
Carry your fears in a solid box of take-on luggage
Because you will Passover
‘Cause you’ll write your Tablets,
set fire to your gods, cross your river of flowing gold
Because you’ll promise your self
a land of silk and funny dreams
Dreams of immortality
Dreams of eternality
Dreams of sick transfusions that delight your progeny
I am your flight attendant
listening in depth to your vulnerability
cheerleading you on,
throwing high the baton
while you compose your ode to joy.
And
sing your flight to live the life of the travelling warrior,
to explore the way of the choir of pilots who chart their soul’s journey beyond the beyond.
Come intrepid one.
Come board your flight
You are on time,
in good time to be uplifted
into the symphony I have sketched for you
and you will bring to be
the melody of a soulful life
___________________
Notes:
(1) This poem was inspired by AJ Leon, Melissa Leon & all misfits (plus all that love their mission to catalyse revolutionary change to our world).
(2) This poem was inspired by the songs of Walt Whitman & the great friends I’ve gained while live streaming “Leaves of Grass” via Periscope – saved on http://www.Katch.me/omaniblog
There are no original ideas
– only fresh ones
If you can’t see the audioplayer below – Click here
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If you can’t see the player below, click here
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Magical mystery tour
I am in this low-slung sports car
painted a deep, rich yellow
driving under an Italian sun.
I have a British accent.
I’m wearing dark shades
an expensive silk shirt.
there’s no dirt under my
fingernails.
the radio plays Vivaldi
and there are two women with
me
one with raven hair
the other a blonde.
they have small breasts and
beautiful legs
and they laugh at everything I
say.
as we drive up a steep road
the blonde squeezes my leg
and nestles closer
while raven hair
leans across and nibbles my
ear.
we stop for lunch at a quaint
rustic inn.
there is more laughter
before lunch
during lunch and after
lunch.
after lunch we will have a
flat tire on the other side of
the mountain
and the blonde will change the
tire
while
raven hair
photographs me
lighting my pipe
leaning against a tree
the perfect background
perfectly at peace
with
sunlight
flowers
clouds
birds
everywhere.
If
you’re going to make love
to your mother-in-law
I have advice for you:
don’t do it on Christmas Day
with her husband
and
your wife
downstairs
in the kitchen
underneath…
(To be continued)
Slugs have a lousy reputation.
I’m sure they’re good for something.
We all feeling sluggish some days.
Without being unkind to slugs,
let today be “Abolish Sluggishness Day”.
Maybe “Postpone Sluggishness Day”
would be kinder.
I made the poem ‘Rain’ while I was thinking about some of the darker things in life.
Mental issues and how they can push anybody to the edge and sometimes even over the edge. Something I recognise from my own life.
My childhood was rather rough. Maybe because of that, I did a lot of crime and vandalism.
Luckily for me, I found a secret weapon to stop it before it got out of control. Drugs.. and many of them. I drugged my brain for 15 years trying to ignore my problems and feelings. But the brain does not easily forget. You can postpone and try to hide, but it will make you deal with it… one way or the other.
In my case, it just ‘turned on’ anxiety in my brain, and, if I did any kind of drugs, it would give me a panic attack.
Effective and without mercy.
It started five years ago, and I’m still fighting. No drugs – only words, a shrink and some good friends.
Most people can’t handle what they can’t see. We get 80% of our impressions thru our eyes, so expect a lot of people to avoid and ignore you.
But face it anyway… Fight it anyway. And when you get your first victory, keep that sweet little moment in mind when the next black cloud starts to rain..
_______________________________________________
Rain
When black clouds
rained upon me
I used to feel sorry for myself.
I looked at people around me
popping their one man umbrellas
saving themselves.
unable to see
unable to hear
the suddenly invisible wet people.
‘we learn for as long as we live’
Maybe so.
But I still get caught in the rain
I still get cold
Still haven’t learned
how to unfold my umbrella.
But I do not feel sorry for myself
Not anymore.
Bring on the rain
Bring on the cold
I eagerly await.
Await the return of the sun
await for its shield of warm clear light
to spread thru my cold wet body
for the return of my smile
and the end of my sighs.
The “scientific method”
sound & strong.
Predict an outcome
experiment
discover
whether that happens.
The “trust method”
predict safety
experiment
experience
whether that happens.
Make your trust method
sound & strong.
Read by Paul O’Mahony
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Your mental health
is your greatest possession.
By losing your wellbeing,
you learn how fragile it is.
By being a good friend
to someone who’s lost their health,
you appreciate this.
Live this mantra:
“Our health is our wealth”.
QED
(‘The very thing it was required to have shown’)
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the book of my life.
It’s a book which won’t appear in print
nor on the Internet.
Every act I do is a new letter
every move a phrase
every relationship a paragraph
every collaboration a story.
I hope it’ll be a best seller.
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