beauty

Perspective

~ distilledvoice ~ 2 Comments

Whilst watering the garden pots

In the stilling dusk

I turn

And look,

Take in an unexpected perspective,

An angle from which I have not perceived,

And suddenly my breath

Is swept from my chest

By the beauty of the rush

Of plants propelled springward

And joyously becoming

Their exponential selves.

And in that gathering moment

My heart swells

For their vividness,

For the life sweet in their being,

For their entwining and wondering reach

Into spaciousness,

And for the bud of a poem

Born on the sap-surge

Of my lip,

And giddy with the prospect of flowering.

ⓒBen Truesdale 2020

Spring Morning

~ distilledvoice ~ 2 Comments

I step into absolute stillness.

On the horizon

Mist shifts in ethereal veils.

The houses on the hill disrobe

Slipping from their misty dreams

As the sun begins in the East.

I step into absolute stillness.

The oranges of early morning

Warm my cheek and raise

A fresh scent from the succulents

As they absorb the first light.

The stillness pervades

Holding all things:

Beauty arises

In all that is worldly,

Both natural and made

Are vivid in the same way,

Reality seems to have a texture I can taste,

One which my eyes drink in.

I breathe a luxurious breath.

I exist

And I step into absolute stillness.

Ⓒ Ben Truesdale 2020

Instagram

~ distilledvoice ~ 4 Comments

The whole world is my stage

The catwalk on which I pout

Performing My sexy sexy –

Look at Me, look at My life,

Look at My happy happy image

Filled with My stuff, My shiny things,

My tits and My gym body bliss

And all the holidays

I could ever wish

Distilled into one perfect shot:

One contrived glass of fizz

Against a perfect sunset

Where all the angst of life

Is edited out

And brushsstroked clean,

Proving Me special

And different without doubt

In a tsunami of content, this

Bland-sewering-scum-tide onslaught

Of same and same and Noisy same

Ejaculated on to the face of My screen.

🤪👍💪🏼🤮

Tell Me There Is No Heaven

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

As you recline on the freshly mown grass

With your eyes closed

And the sunshine

Warm on your face,

Tell me there is no heaven.

And with birdsong

In every angle of your ears,

And the sweet breath plentiful

And touched by the scents on the breeze,

Tell me again, there is no heaven.

Happiness

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The heart that is no heart,

Broken yet whole,

Fluid in the nothing,

Being in the free,

Disintegrated beyond particle

And solitude,

Blended and indistinct,

Dying and alive,

Timelessly destroyed,

Obliterated,

Overwhelmed

And pounded from existence

Into existence’s open arms,

Until nameless,

Until faceless,

Until placeless.

Tell Me There Is No God

~ distilledvoice ~ 4 Comments

Tell me there is no God

And I shall die in my garden

Breathing the wonder,

My brain obliterated

By the green spring

And the blackbird

Fluorescing

Music and magnitude

And wielding the shrill knife

Of beauty’s grievous wound,

And I will say nothing,

But put the pen

On the paper

And write my pitiful, joyous attempt

At the writing of it,

And die in my tears

And laugh in my tears,

And cry for the love

That kills me

As I feel

Its world-ending enormity.

The Heart Sun

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The sun gives

Without question,

Pulsing with energy

In an ever outward movement,

Gifting without requirement,

Being because it is.

And we, the myriad life

In all our forms

Receive this gift,

And dance

In light transformed,

Wholly containing it.

The inner sun,

The sun of our heart

Is not different

Or a photon less

Than its heavenly reflection

Benevolent beyond our sky.

My Friend

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

The Scots pine glows red-skinned

In the morning light.

He is always there,

Watching over my life.

Sometimes he stands out,

As beautiful as beauty itself,

And sometimes he is invisible.

Today, his presence is called

And warbled by the birds

Hopping among his branches.

The breeze too has its say

In the vibration of a myriad needles.