Inspired by mind

In Her Butterfly Breath

~ distilledvoice ~ 3 Comments

In the air around
In her warm breath
In her aura.
In the space
That she owns,
Crossed by no other.
In her own land,
The country
Of her soul’s endeavour

There are butterflies
In swarms,
In every multicolour
And species creed.

They are
The myth of her lightness,
For on invisible strings
She is anchored
To every flutter
And delicate wingbeat,
And held aloft
As any lucky cloud
Is mystical
In the wind’s drift
And by the sky delivered.

It’s as if
They were part of her
And her body
Were just food stuff
On which the insects
Come to fill and feast:
Her heart
– A chalice –
Nectar deep,
The sweet centre
Of a spirit flower
That she is

In the ether-other
Beyond the solid and tangible
Regulations of the
World we live.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015

Why I Write

~ distilledvoice ~ 2 Comments

Because I am barren land:
And though
I can hold the pen,
I have but sand
In my hand,
For thoughts are angular
Without the yolk
Of the inner whisper.

And then
In the desert,
The sudden
Incomprehensible
Pale green shoot,
Come from nowhere,
Cracking the carapace
And shielded exterior,
Breaking ground.

And there,
Blood
To the lips
Of the stone
And all is shifted
To flows of liquid,
And the hand
Joins thoughts
And the leafs unfold,

Becoming one
In the curling letters
And the writing’s sound,
And the circular forms
Of life
Encountered
And rising
To the mind’s
Beautiful fore.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015

Wish

~ distilledvoice ~ 6 Comments

To the tight
To the tearless
To the dried
And desiccated
To the dead
Who still inhabit

I wish
The hot breath
Of Aslam
The gentle touch
Of Jesus Christ
The Buddha’s smile
Mohammad’s light
And the unsung strength
Of every mother
Who loved their child
And the fathers
Who stood
Strong and watchful.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015

Siblings In Mind

~ distilledvoice ~ 2 Comments

For all of us
Who write
There is kinship
In the pen
And a pleasing
Camaraderie of spirit.

Yet such
Are the plethora
Of minds
That being this
Is like belonging
To a wide
And diverse continent.

The best
Is when understanding
Traverses time
And space,
And a bond
Of likeness
Joins

In selfness
Expressed:
Like looking in to the mirror
And seeing the real
Familiar
Of a brother
Or a sister,
Newly found.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015

Worlds Within Worlds

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

FullSizeRender

There are worlds
Within the world
Spheres within spheres
Expressions expressing
Fractals in patterns
Again and again
More and more
In the deepening
In the depth
In the giving
In the breadth
In the repetition
Of real realness.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015

Holiday

~ distilledvoice ~ 2 Comments

Just saying the word
Is enough to quell
Its worrisome opposite.

You appear
To have swelled in breath
And buoyancy

Around the chest.
And more,
Your face is full

And your eyes
Are lit,
And your smile

Has spread
So a yellow sunrise
Wells

And the summer
Crests,
And you

Absorb
As much
As you reflect.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

For Mima

And The Mother Said

~ distilledvoice ~ 5 Comments

And the mother said
You can turn on my earth
And in a trice
My children
Will be upon
The glistening clods
To do their colonising
And consoling work.

And you may desert
The plentiful place
And turn it bland
With monoculture,
Dampen
The flourishing
With chemical
And beings augmented
And superior

All the while
Dashing yourself down.
But I will love you nevertheless.

And you may
Stricken the fertile
And the life giving,
Blemish it,
Injure it
And put it
To dust
And stone

And I will scar
For your learned eye
And then turn beautiful
With rest
And time
Fallow and forgiving.

And you may
Use me
Like your own heart used
And cut me
As your own blood flows
And deny me
As your own
Loneliness is made

In the crucible of your intention
And I will love you still
And whole

And love you
As only the land,
In its richness can

For killing is not mine
Nor
My children’s

And as the world turns
I will be
As I have been;

The force
The spirit
The energy

The lick of love
The empty space
The possibility

The lift
Behind it all,

The reason
And creativity

Rolling on, and endlessly on.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

Personal Universe

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

Are there really
Any wrong turns
Or mistakes
In the journey
Of our living
And in the writing
Of our life?

Perhaps
It is one way
Or the other,
Or another
Entirely different
Something else.

Who knows
And who is right?
Who can know ‘the truth’
Beyond their own
Or pass a judgement
Beyond the perception of the self?

And who is not alone
Upon the earth,
Solitary and singular
In every sense,
Sharing but paradox
And conundrum
Of the personal universe?

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.