The Sky Is Blue

The sky is blue

And deep

And impenetrable,

Absorbing my gaze

Which finds no purchase

In its azure nothingness,

Finds nothing

But lazuline, cerulean flawless flatness,

In which the cumulous materialise,

Condense in forever morphing forms;

There in expansion or contraction

Wispiness or burdensome bruising

Clotting before rain drops are birthed,

Or reconsidered by the air’s

Subtle hold, and withdrawn

Into the invisibility of blueness

And the dimensionless constant

Reaching beyond the reaching mind.

ⓒBen Truesdale f2020

Perspective

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

Alive

I breath in

I breathe out

I feel my lungs full

I feel my lungs empty

I feel the life move in

I feel the life move out

I feel my lungs irrigated

With freshness

New as the spring bathed leaves

Are vivid

Spacious as the spring air

Is light

I breathe in

I breathe out

Life is within me

Life is without

I breathe in

I breathe out

I value the life of my being

I value the presence of my life

I breathe in

I breathe out

Life in its essence is simple

I love the simple essence of life

I breathe in

I breathe out

I am alive in existence

Existence is alive in my life

I breathe in

I breathe out

I breathe in

I breathe out

Instagram

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.

🤪👍💪🏼🤮

Sweet Spring Wonder

In the sweet spring wonder

The bud of my life opens,

Synchronised with the buds

Of the earth.

The air contains me

And the quivering bird,

Its heart broken open,

Broken into song.

Morning is beautiful,

Fresh as imbibed breath,

Acknowledged

As spirits subtle vapour.

The scent is the hawthorn

Of my childhood,

When I first saw,

When my eyes were first open.

I am here again,

Bathed in deliciousness,

Open mouthed

That I should be.

My Friend

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.

Happiness

I walk in reality, breathing the breath,

Feeling the body, seeing with the eyes.

The world is beautiful

For it happens

Despite the thoughts in my head.

The garden grows, expands into spring,

The foliage lush with promise.

The cat sits by the pond, under the

Blossoming trees, and amid daffodils.

He breathes the air too,

Watching, always watching,

Thinking not one moment beyond the

Moment he’s in.