Ten hours later…
I’m calling that done.
x
We eat the cows that eat the grass
We mind the cows to eat their ass
We cheat the vows we made to last
We mined the earth in ages past
We beat the chimps to bigger brains
We wine and dine upon the trains
We fleeting people on the plains
We find it’s dry until it rains
We eat the grass and smoke it too
We kind of care but so do you
We sweetly love the food we chew
We pine for more, the lucky few
We treat the earth alike a buyer
We sign a contract: No to Fire
We greet the desert then perspire
We line for food and eat food prior
We earth the cable into ground
We mine the minds that come around
We mirthful creatures safe and sound
We shine when eating from plates round
An artwork in response to an amazing, earthing trip to the Australian desert in 2012.
The photographic prints were blown up, huge, on the wall.
The poem sat by their side,
eating away.
peace
xx
Helen War
For every window opened there’s a person closing blinds
and for every piece of wisdom there’s a stale set of minds
But the technologic system that exists in every home
Can connect you to the people that have itchy feet to roam
In a way this makes it easy, and the challenge is at stake
Rest assured I’m troubled often, ‘til resolve begins to shake
And the distance is a blackness, where a single woman walks
In a flurrying of footsteps, sure that every shadow stalks
Then a pressing urge that peers into the dark and sees a light
Starts to confidently grow and creepy creatures lose their bite
For I’m not ashamed to say that I’ve been saved by a café
That connects me to my family when foreboding comes my way
It’s the reason keyboards hang above in printed brick-like wall
As they’ve built me up and wiped my tears and made sense of my scrawl
So repetition rips apart the righteous sense of real
I love the unoriginal with borrowed sense of zeal
The place you run to blows away stagnation in the trade
Art starts to house the wounded and they’re whinging they need aid
Now I don’t forget the reason I am running from the rest
I’m afraid they’ll draw my curtains for a personal conquest
The dilemma is I push away the ones who love me most
In a constant candid manner like the careless burn their toast
But for every blind that’s closed, unwilling wider world won’t wait
And the myth of work for happiness creates a tasty bait
Meaning those that close their eyes to all surprise are most sedate
With excuses so depressing they don’t dignify debate
My assertions hold me ransom though you’d likely never tell
I’ve begun to take a dark delight my mother named me Hell
Helen War
Mindscape
A vision, moving slowly through the scenes of Milford Sound
The journey that inspired re-creation through an art
I knew then on the ocean that the peace I sought was found
To capture clarity in candid nature was a start
My mind was turned to yearn for work of worthiness anew
and call upon the memories that cycle well-known routes
where fingertips press tested temple, held there by a glue
to search for honest method with a medium that suits
For meaning maps mortality to land beyond the mire
Then traces tracks that terminate in toiled wasted time
But looking up, the stars against a blackness are on fire
There’s music at the mention of a mountain you can climb
Of stamping on a fabric printed, just like coins when newly minted
Serving to preserve the jams of thought against the mould
As time erodes the mind and precious clarity is tinted
I spend my time expressing what won’t be there when I’m old
To know the joy of travel, step inside the art around
Begin to breathe the air inside the deeper distant past
where layered lair of labour hangs above the hampered ground
to mimic mocking memories, elusive as they are vast
See solace in a semblance of some strips that tell a tale
A panoramic drama that narrates without the noise
But I can hear the pounding waves upon the ferry rail
And the squawking as a seagull floats upon the wind with poise
If pictures tell a thousand words, a novel’s in the air
my written carving speaks of thought and friendships that exist
It could be said these words are an extensive kind of prayer
To mighty Mother Nature who embraced me and I kissed
I want to feel that joy again in simple sweet sublime
The focus of the present is elation to the soul
This need dictated choice to write of Mindscape in a rhyme
For writing, art and music melts for me inside a bowl.