Whaaaat?

Take More...

                  ...Give Less

Really?

On balance I guess this is what we often do

But on balance this is not on scale

It tips to one end

And will end badly

These words live vicariously

Through the statements of others

Triggers of thought

Synapse of feeling

Bubbling to the surface

Scraping along the bottom

Soaring the believer to new heights

Give amore...

                   ...Need less.

Truly

Do

Therapy

“That is really nice”

“I really like your writing”

Sincere, sure, at least I think it is.

The capacity to accept

Let alone

Process

A compliment

Is lost on me.

The files say look ‘em in the eye

Smile and nod your acceptance

Of their compliment to you

Do not lessen your acceptance

Through self deprecation

Or markers of being able to do better

Yet why

When my therapist tells me to keep on writing

The hidden cost is emptiness

That makes me feel worthless

Every time he says my writing is lovely

I have the capacity to love...
                                            ... and there you have it!

Burning Questions

That one can feel at all continues to surprise

When things we care about go away

It can be hard to live the journey

But the walls continue to fall

Because there is much to live for

So there we have it

There is so much to live for

And that would be the gist wouldn’t it

A choice then

To live or not to live

That, for some is a burning question

Answered by the surprise one can feel at all

And because of that

Choose life

Because that feeling is the essence

Of being 

In the warmth of burning questions

Lilac Bakery

Sweet pieces of summer

Smooth cookie and lemon

One for you, and one for me

From this tiny simple box

Springs forth flavour

And memories made

Of days planning felonies

Sequestered from this world

In dreams made for only friends

Of water babies on sandy beaches

Of animals loved and loved again

Of stories and poetry and song

We navigate the labyrinth

Pray to return to a place

Where friends and emperors and jesters

Love in harmony as one

Unbroken re-broken unbroken again

The Autonomystic

Original Clay by H. Lyons 2008
Stylized rendering by rlm 2011

Nothing said, nothing heard, nothing seen

These things are seen, heard, and said

Assumed to be true

Yet

So far from truth

This mind is autonomystic

Filled with observances

Do not aver to understand you understand

Permission to speak freely here

You do not

The links you make are in your experience only

You must think the mind of the aut

Each exploration, our oh!

Thus yarned, consign strange to no

All that we find, the mystic

Give us a chance

You may well see it makes sense

These files of association

Or you may choose to be dissociative

To choose to see us in simplest terms

So you may see us as we see you