Categories
Poetry Saturday Expressions Visual Artwork

Risk Taker | Session 12

Leaving the salt lamp low
I undress close to the open
window, watching the wind stir the trees
feeling the breeze on my skin,

Living on the edge of losing it all
pretending with non-attachment I won’t
care, at all – I love this type of faith
but still mine runs deeper than that

What illusion is this appearing to minds,
that makes material risk seem most perilous,
the highest stake. Meanwhile, everyone
puts their future on the line for a brief escape
regretted in the end, when such pleasures
almost always bring such pains

And still, deluded most times
I’m sure I would risk it all again,

If only to learn the swift lessons
needed for permanent escape, liberation
and if only for the benefit of others, complete
Enlightenment – the highest state

The greatest risk to reward benefit
of all, to all, for all.


Categories
Poetry Saturday Expressions

Overcoming a sad weekend through imagination | Session 11

Read time: approx 4 minutes

written in December 2020


I’ve started to root my feet as I walk
so as not to fly away
my head is up inside the clouds
and clouds aren’t here to stay

Appearing normal as ever I was
so it appears I walk on ground
yet inside my mind the streets transformed
a different time, a long lost day, reality unbound

You see, I hesitate to admit
the spontaneous overflow of emotion
that overwhelmed me this past weekend
uninvited tears and two ice cream cakes

Later and I feel better than before
and stronger without falling
feel I’m falling safely to the ground
after being so far away in order to survive

That is the key. Traveling far away
my way costs a little less these days
when travel is forbidden on a political –
I mean for-your-safety and conspiracy theories

Dismissed once more completely unlike
twenty years before when a 9-11 call
came to distress a nation continuously
paying for the evil deeds it continues

To commit. So it seems unfathomable that 
I should be able to arrange words
in a way they’ve never been arranged
before since everything is repeating itself

How did they find their way
here now to your hands
to your eyes. How many parts 
of your mind are you using 
to comprehend this basis
and how many senses are
liberating you or
simultaneously imprisoning
you in samsaric pleasure seeking
yet no endless bliss
I could be anywhere in this 
warm hazy gloom I’ve created
in this room
electric guitar riffs and
smoke lifts, incense and candles
burning low, low like my gaze,
low like the spirits of the masses
drawing near the end of what
some may call a “fucked up” year
check it out as a meme somewhere

I want to be held by arms that love me
even though arms cannot love
and to pretend the body and mind
want the same thing is deceit

Smokey blues, and my bare feet
stretched over the back of the 
kitchen chair in front of me. Not warm
nor cold and so I can no longer 
sense them and my mind in a trance
disconnects from my body and 
in the flickering candlelight dance
with the clear, thick sound in my ear
I lose myself, I lose the moment into
a single sensation of the moment
tactile functioning ceases as auditory
rapture plays a different sensation
across the skin. What’s that, pores?
Bring a friend! Goosebumps rise to no end.

If you run your hand against me now
to this solo I may literally die of overstimulation
and it’s not just the copious blooms
of Mary Jane’s bouquets floating through the dark
nor is it the magnificent high
although it helps
it’s this fucking art to heart music in ear
and olfactory tickling dense breath via nostril
and the trance of expression while
simultaneously bearing witness to
manifestation and expressing and perceiving
the metaphysics of this existing in the
future space of your present moment.

This tragically ignored dependency
worse than the drugs used tonight
has mutilated our minds into ignorance
rooted deep.

And so this skin feels music as touch
and yet feels touch not
from within this dream realm which is
impaired life, I feel the strings as fingers
strum on skin and percussion as too much
at times too intense but oh that brass
really gets me from the inside out
really putting the sax in saxual intercourse.
The woodwinds in my hair and as whispers
on my neck – over the top sensations
that would give anthropologists cause
to study: what drug is this? 

And gypsy magic would be the reply
because the music is the magic
and the roots run deep
the attachment runs deep

Yet rooting
here I am attempting
to root also
so that I might not fly away
this time, at least not today
I’ve got busy work not time for play
touching my hard nipples
to rock and roll and blues
outside of the dream
the kitchen chair is damn 
hard on my ass and I have to
adjust my position and
leave the reverie behind.


Categories
Poetry Saturday Expressions

Lost harvest | Session 10

The fruit on our vine has withered
        I long to cut it down, but something stops me

I feel you lurking, breathing on my neck,
  wishing I hated that 
    now unpleasant sensation

You keep appearing to me as a vision
          at my window, at work,
across the road, getting gas or 
                                      exploring knee-high weeds,
                             observing afternoon-hot walls

Summer stinks of memories, snorkeling,
     the big bug ID book, hidden peacocked notes

Hot days soothed with cold water and
         indulgences rare opportunities afford

Not appreciated and never found again

I couldn’t stand to be with you now,
   experiencing anew the arrows of your delusions

So why do I crave you at all? Am I so plagued with
                       inappropriate attention and my own maras?

Cutting the wizened fruit, so something
                  new can grow, still seems undoable

With a heart full of love, wishing for non-
                     attachment, I observe

You’re hard to let go.


Categories
Poetry Saturday Expressions

The world tears open | Session 9

Today, the world is tearing open

Everyone I know is crying
women, men
this is what our anger becomes
when our fire runs out and
we realize what we’ve done

This is how we bare our souls
with honest feeling
in safety
why should we alone endure our gief?

In the fray, the pages rend –
this time not my hand to blame –
yet the rip reveals remembrance
that recollection cannot heal

Bearing loss, the heartache felt
heavy as a pack
carried uphill over many days
heavier now,
as if weight was added still

Sorrow, the melancholy blues
I haven’t felt you in a while
and here you are anew

We may wallow in anguish, woe —
briefly — as we fall into
the cracks
as night chases the sun away
we can wish for tomorrow’s gift:
a day that destroys our dismay

permanently. 

Categories
Playlist Poetry Saturday Expressions

Visions | Session 8

Visions
A Poem in 27 Songs

Runtime: 1hr 49min

I keep waiting to
See You Again
walking into
The Place That I Work

If I Hated You
I’d be
Happier Than Ever
to see
You’re Not Standing Like You Used To
but I don’t

In Sleep
you become
Something Strange
and I dream
The Road Ahead is Golden
I dream you’re
Elvis
13
times

When I’m Alone,
Stoned and Alone
or
Staring at the Sun
or 
When the Night is Over
Almost Everything
reminds me of you
has me
Running Home to You
begging you to be my 
Savior

yet you’re running away:
So Human of You
to want to go back to
The Night We Met

while I want
Nothing Else
but to dance in
The Kitchen
the feeling
Comes and Goes in Waves
so I put my 
Heart in a Cage

Letting Go
I’m protected from
Fallin’

Up Here
I’m protected from the
Fire and the Flood

for you’re a
Pyro
and my heart is tinder

Categories
Playlist Poetry Saturday Expressions

Lavender Blue | Session 7

Lavender Blue:
A Poem in 30 Songs

Runtime: 1hr 41min

this one’s
for that
Time of the Season
when I get sad, a
Season Suite: Late Winter, Early Spring
singing I’m
Lavender Blue (Dilly Dilly)
sometimes feeling silly (silly)

You Are My Sunshine
at the time of year when sunshine is rare

I hum
Kiss the Girl – From “The Little Mermaid”
and
A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving
drinking
Scotch and Soda
watching the
Early Morning Rain
it never gets that cold ‘round here
just so very (very) grey

I met a
Wayfaring Stranger
on a
Saturday Night at the Movies
before saying 
Adieu
he asked
Is That All There Is?

I still see the
Colours
of his
Morning Nightcap
hear his morning
Bird Song
smell
The Wild Mountain Thyme
outside his door
feel the
Boots of Spanish Leather
a gift, before the dance
The Lovers’ Waltz Duet
and
8 Humoresques, Opus 101
[whispering in a foreign tongue]
Poco lento e grazioso

now, I see
The Gathering of Spirits
when I go
Down to the River to Pray
hearing
Tennessee Waltz
in my mind, asking

Where Have All the Average People Gone?
where has he gone?

though I
Keep on the Sunny Side
I think
I’ll Fly Away
Across the Great Divide

to find
The Yellow Rose of Texas

I Love 
Anyone Who Knows What Love Is

and still
No Other Love
will do 

Categories
Playlist Poetry Saturday Expressions

Take a Gamble | Session 6

Take a Gamble:
A Poem in 21 Songs

Runtime: 1hr 18min

Lucky Day
let’s play

Truth
or
DARE

I took you for
The Gambler

if you can
Jump into the Fire
we’ll pretend

I Feel Lucky
so
Dare Me

Ain’t it funny
in my
Impossible Dream 
I’ll be asking
How D’ya Like Your Eggs in the Morning?
and you sing your reply 
Yes, We have no Bananas

All Your Yeahs
with
Burning Love

inspire
Enlightenment

but

The Truth 
is
You Can’t Always Get What You Want

un
Lucky

It’s a Sin
to 
Pass Me By

why not
Pawn it All
instead?

you’re still gamblin’
Lucky You
I bet.

Categories
Poetry Saturday Expressions

Fearless | Session 5

Poem by K. Samways, written in 2020 as part of the (currently) unpublished collection, A Very Slow Awakening
Read time: 10 minutes



I

It’s easy to think of yourself as 
Fearless
until you meet someone who’s
dared to do
what you believe
you cannot.

How do you free yourself of
this doubt?

This delusion?

This ignorant confusion?

of reality

created

by mind
my mind
mirror mind
giving you thoughts

Hope you like them!

I pass them along ethereal waves

insubstantial
or did
you catch
the breath
I breathed
on
your neck

I ran a finger down
your spine
but it 
was without
permission

So I did not
allow you
privy 
access
to this 
personal
conquering
of my fears

Reality resists
and so
flow
slows

Because my mind
still finds
it difficult
to manage

this fearlessness

with doubt

A teeter-totter
I played on
as a child
yearned to outgrow
yearned to know
yet they 
stripped
the playground
bare of these

along with
the merry-go-round
we’d spin with ease
running as hard as we could
in sick circular motion

until it spun so fast
and pulled us to our knees

four Band-aids to stop the bleed

too expensive to remain
on school ground lot
now kids can’t play

not because the bandages cost too much

But because at some point
the PTA understood
that they could be
sued for their
kids will be kids
attitude

Reality created anew
from the mind of these
fearful few

That turned money into
an object to be held
cemented it as some 
kind of tangible
symbol
so we believe
the cash
is as real as 
the gun

held to head
of one soon dead
so one can eat
although another
meet his
end

The money, raw symbol,
as real as the guts
now
splattered on the wall

Where are my guts?
I tried to spill them
but the metaphor 
falls flat
because I can’t hold
them in my hands
and share
them 
with you

and besides

I’m feeling gutless all of a sudden

II

So,

I’ve got this story for you

About this daydream

I am constantly

(I don’t mean constantly
but you know)

having
and let me tell you!

I am so chill. 
I mean, calm, cool and collected.
We’re standing together.

(Seriously, it’s just a daydream
not a fantasy)

We’ve got some serious eye contact going on
you know the type I mean
I’m looking at you
you’re looking at me
and though it’s just
our eyes we see
we’ve gone a bit deeper
a couple layers in
at least
it seems
I see a bit more
when you see me

–kind of erotic, right?
Okay, well, not for everyone. 

So, I’ve got this gift
this present
this moment
with
you
and I’m trying to space it out
not really sure if you are too 

(even though it’s a daydream
heck, got to make it as real
as possible, really secure
those doubts and fears)

My thoughts 

Maybe I’ll play
the mirror
game – make
a face
and see
if he
does the 
same

So I smile at you
and why 
am I surprised
you smile back
and
I melt inside

It’s a mushy melt
I’ve yearned for
Not the sensual touch
of skin on skin
but soulful union
of long lost kin
a soul lost from
another life
and from my 
teacher’s mouth
came this advice:

How would you heal the connection from a dream?

(Most of the advice comes in the form of a question
go figure)

So I think
with more doubt yet

Maybe I shouldn’t wish
for this
selfish yearning
for devotion 
from another
being, though
I’m simply longing
for the very
ordinary human
wish to use this form
as an outlet, a plug
to connect two souls
not really separate
yet still
two mental
continuum

And when I put it that way
it still feels divine
So I think act natural
change and maintain
your aspiration
lead it into action
not battle
nope. no war here.
more like riding a raft down the river
with a staff
your
guide

(that stick isn’t going to help you upriver against this current)

This river is leading me to 
one place
enlightened
with
scent of mint
no doubt of that
otherwise
I’d be stuck
on this 
fucking raft 
forever.

I guess then
the appearance of
choice is 
distilled to
two

be afraid
or 
be fearless

Oh,
right,
so,

I was telling you this story
about this daydream
I’m having

(no not right now – well, yes technically
it’s in my mind)

where we’re looking
into 
one another’s
eyes

blah blah blah

I just want to 
touch you
because I feel
you empathize
with me 
a lot 

(and many others too..
that’s what’s so cool about you)

And because
I took a quiz
and one of my
love languages
is physical touch
thus I need it
so much
and need 
is a word
I feel
I need
to eradicate
from my
vocabulary 
along with
should

Here’s the 
vision’s catch

If I touch you,
It ends. It’s over.

All I have in
dreams
awake and sleeping
is this
silly crazy
yearning and
at best heavy eye contact
and once in a while 
words
that say
I love you 
back

I can’t help question

(my own advice, I guess)

Why is that?

III

Circling back to 
aspiration

I feel the
need to 
acrostic
this
bitch

Ask me
Search me
Preach to me!
I have looked for Harmony, Usually a 
Rival, Discerning
And certainly not dumb
Though I see an unfinished symphony
I wish for completion, To become
One,
Nurturing

I am naive yet not the fool
trust
blind
faith
educated
tested
with
proven
lived 
experience

I’ve felt courage
but how will
I recognize 
a type of 
fearlessness
I’ve never felt before

The answer could 
be distilled to two
once more

Trust that it will work out
despite not knowing
or
Trust that you will recognize
the unexpected
when it happens

When I get truly 
caught up
in rhythms, movements
emotions
blown up
earthly materials
wind water air
especially earth
so weighty here
gravity
pulls
me
down
and my resistance
is sideways steps
at least they are not

moving
backward.

Oops.

That happens sometimes
too

Defying gravity
feels like
a bad girl’s thing
and
I’ve been
disciplined 
previously
enjoyed not 
then
enjoyed not
now
so fearlessness
is called
upon somehow

to defy
in spite
of anxiety
worry
fear

It comes 
as wisdom
comes as 
grace
comes as 
smile
on a happy 
face

Comes in feeling
within 
without

Positive
now
without
doubt

I’ve meditated
hours
in
present tense
so that 
future 
is now and
I wait
less

Patience a
virtue
I definitely have
put to test
again and again and again and again and again and again
and again and again and if this is trying you
in the slightest you can bear…well, probably a lot
apparently we all can
as long as 
the mind
believes
we can
it can

can you do the can can?

Distraction 
of earth mode on, man.

Circling back, again and again and again and again
and again and again and again and (that’s where we left off)

No one ever said

fearlessness 
didn’t manifest 
as the human quality
(note not disorder)
A.D.H.D.

What I’m trying to say
is that 
this courage
is built 
on a 
foundation 
I celebrate
encourage
and could
definitely
cultivate 
a little
more of

IV

This is my garden

I don’t normally show it to people. 

The weeds are a little overgrown, yeah.

I tried to help my mom garden several years ago. (I mean several, and I’m only young!)
How it hurt my knees. They really ached. I was probably dehydrated, I think back,
cold fingers now, winter weather getting in, yes, definitely dehydrated.

I used to tell myself a story that I would never have patience.

I was really angry back then.

I used to tell myself a story that I would never garden.

I was really in the weeds back then.

I used to tell myself a story that I would never be loved.

Can you even imagine?
How silly.
How common.
How unbelievably ordinary.
To believe
a belief
a mere thought
conjured 
from a mind
of deepest 
insecurity
fueled by 
economic
insecurity
encouraged by
destabilizing
conglomerate
objectives
appearing
synergetic
in nature
of course
but in reality
only found
in nature
not corporate
systems lol!

So since then
I set to change
that intention

by seeking, 
purposely

to change
by merely
changing
aspiration

only I am 
taking it
to the next
level

so discontent
at last
with ordinary
existence 
that I
must, 
no, 
need!
to pledge
I choose
deathlessness
and traveler
of the
next life
never
to rest
never
to stop.

Fearless
Fearless

is the 
chant

(did you hear? I like chanting now)

musical
and powerful
and OM
and AH
and HUM

I get it now
I’m not there yet
this story
holds within
it truth
yet really
isn’t quite
what you 
imagine it
to be

Mistaken
conception
from your
mind and 
that you
put 
on me

(I do it too)

Right, back to the gardening.

So I’m finally learning
how to grow stuff
really, and properly
by following instructions
and making sure 
these little
plant babies
get enough sunlight
and water
and I even have 
a couple in my
apartment

(have you seen my apartment recently?
My ego wants me to tell you, it’s pretty rad)

You wouldn’t
believe what
I can make
happen with 
enough sleep
the right diet
and a little
bit of 
exercise

(okay, a lot
of dancing)

V

If I choose
to be
fearless selfless patient
virtuous
my highest self

should
humbleness 
not spill
from my 
lips

Nah. 
Remain natural, He said.

I want to inspire, I said.
Not just be inspired by.

And all my wishes have come true.
So why not this right now?

All the wishes 
I remember

and work toward all come true.

It’s just so goddamn hard 
to remember them all
so I wish
to just
focus 
on

the one.

Categories
Saturday Expressions Visual Artwork

Humble Beginnings | Session 4

Picture of friend Jessica, 1995

There was no way to foresee artistic talent in my future. But I think you can see the creativity.

“My whale is swimming. “

And a love of purple I didn’t know I had for almost 20 years.

“I made a ghost.”

Happy Weekend!

Categories
Philosophy Saturday Expressions Visual Artwork

Take Back Your Time | Session 3

A rebellion against social media, the true corporate time thief:

Are you tired of being robbed of your choices, implanted and imbibed with capitalist messages dictating your every thought and move? Buy this drink and earn stars! Buy this and earn points! Try this thing and get a medal! Give your money and your freedom of choice away! Give your safety over to those with a track record of incompetence – a slate wiped clean by expensive lawyers and void of future liability (read the fine print).

Why continue to ignore credible sources who say the same thing: discover your mind. Go within. This isn’t a time wasting ploy like the invention swathed in your sweaty palms, tightly, vigilantly held, never disconnected yet always believing we’re disconnected. The paradox is not emptiness – the paradox is the life we’re living now: senseless, meaningless, when you add up minutes spent giving nothing to the world. Nothing! Giving nothing of ourselves to any being – just consuming and being consumed by a sickly intoxicant, cancerous and eating away at our minds, our senses until senseless we never drink our fill and wish for more minutes to pour into the void of despair and disaster. 

No more!

Take back your time!