Tag Archives: pictures

Leaf

Like a new leaf to the tree we cling, then slowly grow and learn of life. Enduring woes soon grind us down and, grudging, we accept the hand we’re dealt.

The struggle now is over;

The futility is clear;

The tree of life abandons us;

Our grip is one of fear.

Cast off now, we succumb

And float upon the wind.

This is the freedom we strove for.

The truth we can’t rescind.

 

Illusions

Survival he should know,

Requires not any other,

Water, food and sleep;

Then add a little colour.

But the one eye’d man

Lives with himself

And suffers more than

Those he shelves.

Nurturing his ego in

Suffering’s deep shade.

Confusing more the self with

A life that is self-made.

Self-illusion cannot be grasped.

Reach beyond, he was once told.

There within lies the divine.

The Bhudda way can he then hold.

By meditation he may learn;

But if he does, may find too late,

His life so quickly passed him by

And left him standing at the gate.

And when he finds his last day is

The same as was his very first.

But four hours and twenty.

He may well ask – did I achieve what I did thirst?

Tomorrow is another world.

Now it is his journey starts.

There is no purpose to his space.

Then live each day as if his last.

About rebirth he may well ask

And transmigration of the soul.

Illusions like a wave are cast

Up and down, as though whole.

No waves move, no soul incarnate.

Life’s Illusions will he recall.

Process passing, only karma.

Does he know life at all?

The Great Divide

There is a love that does abide.

That’s greater than the great divide.

A love that’s buried deep within.

Much much deeper than our skin.

And love’s something we can’t explain,

Or why it brings us so much pain.

But we still crave it all the same.

Then look for someone else to blame.

The need that lies within us all,

Without which, we are not whole.

We let it come, we let it go.

Yet cannot save a mortal soul.

And love’s something we can’t explain,

Or why it brings us so much pain.

But we still crave it all the same.

Then look for someone else to blame.

When something touched me deep inside,

T’was  greater than the great divide.

A love that kept me very whole,

Still lies within my very soul.

Love is something I can’t explain

Or why it brings me so much pain.

But I still crave it all the same.

And know I am the one to blame.

Searching to be Free

High city walls are all about me.

Yet no walls can I see.

Storm clouds hang above my head

But no rain falls on me

Bright sun lights the horizon

A thousand miles away.

Fields of corn wave in the breeze.

Flowers bloom every day.

The walls they now close in

As storm clouds start to burst.

The corn is smashed flat,

The rain it feeds our thirst.

For I am one with nature,

At times I cannot see.

From this land I came and am

Still searching to be free.

The Edge

You played on the edge

Lived life on the brink

Then one day too far

You fell in the drink.

An angel alone

In a lost paradise,

You made your own

‘gainst all good advice.

You chose your way

As all of us must.

Hear others speak.

In ourselves we should trust.

Nobody knows who you are.

Why try to explain.

They never will feel

Your pleasure or pain.

Rice painting

A gift from the earth
A gift from the earth

Two long dry seasons led to drought

And so one crop we went without.

Now the time is here once more

To pull the seedlings from the floor.

Then transplant them to grow tall

And give us food and sustenance for all.

Picking rice seedlings all alone

Picking rice seedlings all alone

When we were young

 

When we were young

Nothing seemed to matter much.

When we were young

Sparks flew in a single touch.

When we were young

We often knew not wrong or right.

When we were young

We flew into the blinding light.

As moths to a flame

Without thought for the consequence

Our wings on fire

We surrendered to decadence.

Then all too soon youth flew away;

Are we whole? Are we now one?

No looking back, no second chance,

As we walk into the setting sun.

Nomads of the sea

No one wants us

For we are Moken.

Long time here yet

Still not broken.

 

Three hundred years and more,

Stateless nomads of the sea.

Skilled seafarers far from shore,

We had no home but we were free.

 

No schooling now for our children.

In sickness, we have no care.

Nomads still, we carry on.

Tourists, they just stop and stare.

 

Poorer now and losing face;

No basic rights in any land.

Exploited by this venal place;

We are just a one man band.

 

They used our skills for gain;

They made us dive too deep;

‘Nam neeb’ and dynamite destroyed us;

Now we’re just a crippled heap.

 

Poor man, rich man, beggar man, thief.

Seldom do we our stories write.

We are but nothing in this land.

But this land is ours by our birthright.

 

Even where we’ve lived for years

They will not let us call home.

Ancestral bones are buried deep

In land that we can never own.

 

Fish and forage;

Land or sea.

Shelter scavenged we accept.

Never discerning, we were free.

 

When we were young

We dived and dined.

Our great sea gave

Fish and shells and lobsters fine.

 

From Koh Phuket to Surin Islands,

Free to fish on natures patch.

Now from Surin we are banned;

No turtles, cucumber, clams to catch.

 

Without the sea we cannot live.

Sell a photo for a buck.

Embarassed, begging for some food.

Does any tourist give a fuck.

 

Thai, Burmese, Rohingya, Moken.

In the big dream many others

See the world for what it is,

Because forever we are brothers.

 

Still no one wants us.

We are Moken.

Long time here yet

Still not broken.