perspective

Robert M. Pirsig – Zen and the Art of Motorcyle Maintenance 

“This is the source of the trouble. Persons tend to think and feel exclusively in one mode or the other and in doing so tend to misunderstand and underestimate what the other mode is all about. But no one is willing to give up the truth as he sees it, and as far as I know, no one now living has any real reconciliation of these truths or modes. There is no point at which these visions of reality are unified.” 

Quote: Robert M. Pirsig – Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance 

“The world has no existence whatsoever outside the human imagination. It’s all a ghost, and in antiquity was so recognized as a ghost, the whole blessed world we live in. It’s run by ghosts. We see what we see because these ghosts show it to us, ghosts of Moses and Christ and the Buddha, and Plato, and Descartes, and Rousseau and Jefferson and Lincoln, on and on and on. Isaac Newton is a very good ghost. One of the best. Your common sense is nothing more than the voices of thousands and thousands of these ghosts from the past. Ghosts and more ghosts. Ghosts trying to find their place among the living.” 

what makes you squirm poem

What makes you squirm 

A quick look,
a sneaky peek.
Eyes open wide,
pupils dilate.
Shock, horror.
What to say?
Stomach churning,
you turn away.

She looks at you,
a face of fear.
Lost for words,
eyes don’t linger.
Gaze cast down,
sorry you try.
Tears forming,
you wave goodbye.

A truth seen,
hard to digest.
She understands,
why you can’t.
One last glance,
forward you go.
A resounding sigh,
just another memento.

Tripping

A movement so quick,

or was it so slow? 

Colour,

streaking, 

stretching,

inching further, 

no, closer. 

Making waves, 

patterns, emerging. 

A sight not seen.

The real reality? 

A place unknown. 

Enchanted. 

Fascinated. 

Unlike the norm. 

Smiles growing, 

Laughter catching.

A look, 

a giggle, 

too much. 

Breathe, breathe, breathe. 

Look. 

The beauty. 

sea-night-ocean-dark-large

Hibernating 

Crawling, inching further,

Light burning down.

Covering, I tried to see.

It felt like years,

Years had passed.

What had changed?

Had they forgotten?

I looked down,

to check I was there.

Was this real?

The darkness loomed,

The light shone,

so bright ahead.

Fear, a nervousness.

It seemed so daunting.

Eyes pressed down.

‘Where have you been?’