“When the TRUTH stands before you”
by Siri Perera
There will be no murders in New York or London or Bombay,
and Milton Keynes,
there will be no divorces,
There will be no children crying,
or Dogs barking in pain,
there will be no chairs with broken legs,
or people sticking chewing gum under the table,
never will there be a cat stuck on a tree,
or a plant dying because of lack of water,
or an ant losing his way home,
or bees getting lost because of the mobile phone,
or a rat crushed to death by a trap,
or poisoned by a sweet-smelling tablet,
there will be no more anti-wrinkle cream,
to hide your crevices and gulley’s on your face,
no more ‘no mores’ because there will only be, more,
no more diamonds but only to cut glass,
or a clothesline full of clothes snapping on a windy day,
or global warming,
no more typhoons,
or any day more than 25 degrees C
Never to labour in pain,
no more some being ‘cooler’ than others (because all will be cool),
No more too much rain flooding a home,
There will be no good or bad (both good or bad will be the same),
no more corners to get trapped in,
no more eating eggs ( with potential life),
or a calf crying in pain before slaughter (with his mother beside him),
Or a mother sad because her husband left her alone with the children,
children sad because their mother is crying,
or me sad because a painting does not show itself,
or me sad when my new painting looks like the last one,
no more me sad, just sad for no reason,
or grass sad when it sees a lawn mover,
or a rose tree sad when it sees a secateur,
or me sad when I start getting bored with this poem,
or me sad…..as it is sometimes,
or a dog sad because its owner gave him/her away,
a mother dog sad, when her babies are taken away from her,
or my neighbour sad looking at the red ripe cherries in my garden,
or me sad when I see the birds eating the red ripe cherries in my garden,
or my cherry tree sad when her cherries are picked,
or my garden plants sad when don’t see me some evenings,
or me sad when I miss sitting in my garden on a warm very sunny day,
or me sad when my garden gets trampled on by the cold in winter,
or me sad when I put out a roast chicken for the foxes and cats on new years day,
have you seen a spider run when you approach it?
or a goose stop struggling when it knows it is about to die,
when his friends look around for their missing friend,
I see long queues outside a butchers shop because ‘the food is freshly killed’,
or me sad when Santa don’t appear for some children,
or me sad when Santa don’t appear for me,
or me sad when I see a fox,
with its beautiful long tail,
out and about at midday,
not his time of the day,
almost run over by a car,
as I passed him I saw him limping,
and frightened as he look back,
for the person who chased him out of his hiding place,
and sent him out from his darkness, into light,
me sad because all he had was to run and hide,
like some people caught up in conflicts,
they run when people come to kill them,
because they are not the same type,
me sad when they run and hide like the fox,
shooting Dad in the back,
and Mother keep running to save her children,
when the Truth stands before you!
dead people will come alive again,
and killers will die,
bullies will freeze where they stand,
and their victims will light up like a candle,
thiefs will lose their fingers,
when they steal again,
and idiots: ok, their clothes will change colour instantly,
and black will become white,
and Indians become Chinese,
Red Indians will stay Red Indians,
and the tiger and lion will stay as they are,
so will Tommy the corgi and ruby the cat,
because they are the caretakers of the quantum field,
Sad so sad,
when they disco in the street in
London, New York or Bombay,
and a hungry child is dying somewhere,
because his mother has no more food,
or sad so sad,
when I read a son stab his mother
24 times in the neck and,
if his mother know her lovely baby son,
one day will kill her,
also sad so sad,
when a mother sees her son die before her,
the son she make and watch grow,
sad so sad…….so sad,
when the world turn funny and fair is not fair anymore,
so sad so sad.
Today(sept 2009) another Tsunami came,
first the ground shaking really hard,
‘Taitasi Fitiao was holding her six-year-old daughter’s hand,
when a tsunami wave crashed onto their coastal village (in American Samoa’),
the paper say,
“I held her hand”, the mother say,
“The wave got us and that’s when her hand just left mine”,
sad so sad,
“and I could hear her say, ‘Mom, please.’
Please Mum…,
even mummy cannot hold her hand to save her,
“And then I saw her, I saw her floating away.”
when danger come, it come, and you don’t know,
like the kingfisher pick the fish up from the sea,
And the fish now, not sure if he can fly,
like that, danger come and you don’t know,
no good and no bad,
danger same for good and bad,
so sad, so sad.
the earthquake in Haiti ,
(16:53 local time (21:53 UTC) on Tuesday, 12 January 2010)
sad so sad,
while we eat dinner and watch tv,
and put on our lovely clothes,
to enjoy,
the earth move in haiti,
children in hospitals,
they have their hands and legs amputated,
they cry for their parents,
because they are alone and in pain,
sad so sad,
but their parents have died,
buried in the rubble,
I hear American lady cry,
because the children suffer,
there is no good or bad,
both the same,
to mother earth,
she angry at something,
or just doing her thing,
maybe she is saying,
the world coming to an end?,
and ‘there is no good or bad to me’,
but I still worry,
earthquake here and earthquake there,
Haiti, japan and indonesia,
even Tibet China and,
I think all people holy in Tibet,
Because of Dalai Lama,
But still rocks come down the hill,
and bury people in their sleep,
Maybe there is no good and no bad,
for mother earth,
maybe everything will always be maybe,
Because our brain too small to see all,
the universe too big to think about,
But I feel still something there,
making us live the proper way,
maybe to it there is no good and no bad,
but still wrong is not right and,
it knows this when it is done,
and then when 100 years later,
when you not looking,
IT slap you in your face,
one time then 2 time,
and while you thinking then maybe,
IT slap you again,
and you still thinking,
maybe this because I kick that dog,
100 years ago,
this only maybe you understand,
because our mind too small to see all,
sometimes we very sure,
like Jesus he very sure until,
people hang him with nail on cross,
then he say why or why daddy,
Like Buddha he rich king,
make family and child then,
he divorce his wife because he say,
he make mistake,
and now he want to do nothing,
he then sit under the tree and pray,
hoping his wife don’t find him,
you see no good and no bad,
But you know something IT keep all accounts,
like accountant,
then when 100 years later,
if you remember well then you not surprise,
when account come to settle,
it is sad so sad,
this man Gordon Brown,
the prime minister of UK,
I cry when I think,
he lose the election,
he clever man,
and,
he save the world,
when the economy in bubble,
he catch the plane,
to talk to Sarkosy,
and tell him what to do,
but people their mind,
only like jimmy choo and U2,
and carla bruni play the guitar,
and good man he save them,
they forget,
so sad so sad,
this man Gordon Brown,
maybe people will see,
he better than abba,
and jumping jack flash,
and hand out like Bojangles,
and Gordon Brown,
he different you see,
he work for you and,
maybe he smile again 2015,
Gordon Brown he lose 2010,
but he keep smiling,
why?,
i cry i cry,
when i read of Alexander Mcqueen,
fashion designer from south of the river,
to gucci while he still young,
he cry when his mother die,
he sensitive to his work,
and his life,
like a good artist,
sad so sad,
when he decide to leave this world,
together with his mother,
he die among the clothes he make,
as he near to his passion,
But sometimes
what allow you to see the TRUTH,
can also take you away,
if you don’t know,
but Lee,
he get trapped in his clothes,
too tight his business jeans,
for him to move,
and his shirt,
stiff like cement,
they wear him down,
and he go with his mother,
his friends they ask,
which party we go to today,
now ‘Lee’ is gone,
they use him for his money,
and fame,
the friends he leave behind,
sad so sad,
I cry i cry (this time i really cry)
one day I jogging,
in the cwmwtry,
I see this statue.
of a lady look like nurse,
carry this man holding a rifle,
It say something like,
‘blessed are those who die for us’,
something like that but later,
I get you the real thing and a picture,
I remember this is poem,
so i cannot chit chat with you OK,
I cry i cry,
when i think of soldiers,
on both sides,
they die for somebody,
The universe a strange place,
different people different dress,
different food diffrEnt talk,
understand?
but all one people,
what’s wrong with curry and chips,
all taste good when you mix,
like porridge (not really),
i cry i cry when,
up in the country,
this man,
too much light enter his eye,
on the brightest first day,
of the year,
somebody call him a name and,
his face like mask,
he kill 13 people with rifle,
if people knew that day coming,
they wish they let him be,
and it cloudy again,
i cry i cry,
just stop for a second,
what you are doing,
put down your shopping,
and sit down,
have you tried this before,
just sit back and relax,
watch your mind,
not about tomorrow or yesterday,
watch your mind again,
but today,
not today,
but right now,
no not that now,
but right now,
yes now,
watch your mind,
you sitting in your kitchen,
a cup of tea next to you,
you made earlier,
yes right now,
keep pulling back time to right now,
bring it back further to right right this moment,
watch your mind,
right this instant,
think think see see,
this instant,
you are here now,
right now,
can you see it,
its you right here right now,
you came out of the ether by some magic,
and here you are,
in your world,
on your chair,
the confusion around you,
but the only real thing is you,
all alone,
watch your mind,
keep watching,
everyone of us is ultimately alone,
but it is real this thing,
of me right here right now,
right here right now,
your mind must pull right back,
to this moment,
and you will feel the fear,
of existence,
just alone in space,
a spec in the universe,
and it is just you,
here,
and it is really real,
this time,
watch your mind,
watch your mind,
Ah but,
the mind can also,
play the game,
the shopping I need to put it away,
kids will be back soon, need to get dinner ready,
The bills for next month,
council tax,
that ‘me right now’ has disappeared,
i am gone,
let loose the mind of ‘me’ fades away,
buried in the unreal,
man made city in your mind,
tomorrow, the future, and that dreaded past,
what if, maybe if, its gone that ‘real me’ has disappeared,
i am back as bojangles,
dancing in the theater,
i live in,
i cry i cry,
and i don’t know why,
bojangles,
i cry i cry,
when the Gita says,
‘we exist forever, and have always existed’ and,
we are going nowhere OK,
even in death,
we still are,
right here, where the body fell,
now a ball of energy,
floating,
no body to feel,
i cry i cry,
when it says we come back,
to play the game again,
until the ‘blindness’ & the ‘fire’,
of becoming,
is extinguish,
and then in that stillness,
when you live without wanting,
when thinking has ceased,
but to cross the road,
and replaced with,
only observation,
where the mind is not of this or that,
confused or scattered no more,
fragmented,
it sits together comfortably,
with the ether,
all knowing and in tandem with it,
when the universe downloads itself,
into you,
now you see all,
and you cry no more….,
but till then,
i cry i cry,
when my head get hot,
I look up and down and I think,
my head turn left and right,
because I thinking,
thinking strange thing,
you think all you want,
until head get too hot,
and you still thinking of nothing,
yesterday, no please not today,
tomorrow double m or not,
I not sure,
I thinking,
then I thinking,
always thinking this and that,
then I thinking,
Ok, this computer I write on,
this made by Bill Gates,
OK, and this chair I sit on,
OK this made by carpenter, OK,
But that tree I see outside my window,
who make that tree,
where it come from,
that tree always been around,
carpenter did not make that tree,
Is there other things like tree,
always been around,
not made by us,
maybe things I cannot see,
I thinking,
who made these things,
where they come from,
then I see this poem,
“Tree……….
He watching you,
You look at tree,
He listen to you,
He got no finger,
He can’t speak,
But that leaf……,
He pumping, growing,
Growing in the night,
While you sleeping,
You dream something,
Tree and grass same thing,
They grow with your body,
with your feeling.”
OK, now I really thinking,
I don’t know tree where it come from,
and it grow with my body,
yeah, maybe tree spy,
or it alien,
or maybe spy alien,
you waiting for alien to come,
but he already here,
in your garden,
I always thinking,
my mind can thinking anything,
not always true,
something thinking for days,
about nothing,
just making picture in the head,
going nowhere,
if tree stop breathing,
i cry i cry,
see what I mean,
like that,
thinking,
sometimes making nothing true,
and Hitler,
yes, you know what he thinking,
and his people thinking with him,
that big idea thinking,
image making,
sometimes can kill,
no good no bad person,
only good and bad thinking and,
good and bad action,
you take away the action,
all people the same,
no good no bad,
and one day,
we see without thinking and,
you don’t want to know what I thinking,
about my neighbour,
Today India,
back to L1 subclade,
the center of the world,
it suffer,
so you know,
of this that and the other,
and Art,
the I,
in its travels,
from big to small,
to live a simple life,
Big S small s,
selfless self the final state,
crossing the line,
into form,
so we see,
what we cannot see,
life, it ain’t bingo,
you know,
or saturday night fever,
disco dancing,
jumping jumping,
strobe light flashing,
or cross legged meditation,
or walking round 5 times,
but it is all of this if you watching,
walking talking meditation,
if not,
you walk the circle,
where beginning is ending,
and beginning all over again,
I worry I worry 2011,
as 2012 tomorrow
new world dawning,
one world government,
taking shape,
but not before,
money no more,
like big game monopoly,
go straight to jail,
middle east falling,
tyrants jumping over the fence,
home big palace to favela,
from T-bone steak to brown rice porridge,
no more country borders,
South Africa, America or London,
you choose where you live,
prime ministers become administrators,
of new world government,
you make your own life,
in bush or in city,
nobody bother you,
and you bother nobody,
your life your own,
today fishing or tomorrow fasting,
nobody help you,
hands out,
bojangles,
(Jerry Jeff Walker said while in jail for public intoxication in 1965,
he met a homeless white man who called himself “Mr. Bojangles”
to conceal his true identity from the police.
He had been arrested as part of a police sweep of indigent people
that was carried out following a high-profile murder.
The two men and others in the cell chatted about all manner of things,
but when Mr. Bojangles told a story about his dog, the mood in the room turned heavy.
Someone else in the cell asked for something to lighten the mood,
and Mr. Bojangles obliged with a tap dance. wiki true story) and so,
bojangles was written,
(Lyrics: Bojangles)
I knew a man Bojangles
And he’d dance for you
In worn out shoes
With silver hair a ragged shirt
And baggy pants
He would do the old soft shoe
He would jump so high
Jump so high
Then he lightly touch down
He told me of the time he worked with
Minstrel shows travelling
Throughout the south
He spoke with tears of fifteen years
How his dog and he
They would travel about.
But his dog up and died
He up and died
And after twenty years he still grieved
He said “I dance now
At every chance in the Honky Tonks
For my drinks and tips
But most the time I spend
Behind these country bars
You see on I drinks a bit”
Then he shook his head
Oh lord when he shook his head
I could swear I heard someone say please
Mister Bojangles
Call him Mister Bojangles
Mister Bojangles come back and dance please
Come back and dance again Mr Bojangles)
like new time,
new world dawning,
new song to sing,
CD, back to 45,
and yesterday’s tomorrow no more,
i cry i cry,
when i hear,
Amy Winehouse like Alexander Mcqueen,
say no no no,
to be like Bojangles,
no no no to big business bad friends,
use her singing good voice,
for themselves,
when she say no no no,
Amy winehouse back to black,
but back again,
the body no thing,
the soul live on,
until she get it right,
so don’t cry for her,
she alright,
i cry i cry,
I am still running,
London burning (august 2011),
big city shopping,
boot the boots,
break the glass,
and light the flame,
while I try my new trainers,
money for nothing,
“violent shopping”,
I miss Selfridges,
next day shopping,
burn down bus,
burn down car,
police car!,
OMG big mistake,
on cctv,
what you thinking,
what you drinking,
next day morning,
door bell ringing,
BIG city coming,
while you resting,
I see I see,
2 mind speaking,
thinking making,
other singing,
1 mind silent,
turning,
other talking,
both same thing,
showing what you making,
what you becoming,
palindrome,
one word neuquen,
beautiful town,
or sentence poem,
“Madam I’m Adam
was it a bat I saw
step on no pets
no lemons, no melon
evil olive
tuna nut
never odd or even
a Toyota”
means nothing,
but still beautiful,
TRUTH it simple,
it come to you,
like ‘no lemons, no melon’.
always true,
no matter which way you read it.
London heaven,
London heaven,
I quiet quiet,
in my garden,
sunshine shinning,
roses smiling,
wisteria thinking,
i miss my friend tommy,
but tiny yapping,
Ruby she do nothing all day,
this perfect summer,
London heaven,
This angel,
she live above my garden,
sometimes talking (nonsense),
sometimes quietly looking,
she don’t know,
when she not looking,
all my garden snails,
in her garden,
London heaven,
London heaven,
I see I see,
because this thing:
‘Perception’
London heaven,
‘price tag’ elite,
no killing,
you watching,
gps with keys and cash,
mobile phone,
while I cry I cry,
all about you too,
its not about the killing,
it is about the Arab spring,
collective scrabbles,
top side down side,
?confusion*!?
it may be invisible,
but when you see it,
you live with it,
not see same anymore,
what is possible?,
all is new,
bigger wider,
now this side up,
right side up,
new world,
on top of old,
PERCEPTION:
Wiki does it well,
what this thing perception,
all new inventions,
stacked up,
ThrOuGH natural sensors,
overload,
who you are,
not you anymore,
who make your song,
or movie about you,
Peter Blake!,
paintings?,
where it coming from,
you not know,
what this ‘babling babling’
if you don’t know where it sit,
stay right,
not left,
no good no bad,
when you know,
new world on the horizon,
but YOU not you anymore,
‘it ain’t about the…huh… chachang chachang’,
understand?
Jingle Jangle,
just warming up,
been away a long time,
OK,
a day in the life,
No,
Not happening today,
mind too silent,
listening,
suddenly I hear nothing,
whats that!,
F,
whats wrong,
i=I am waiting,
this is your poem,
write it,
ideas they come from here and there,
the mind it not sit still,
yet it know itself,
the mind is you,
thoughts,
you don’t know where it coming from,
where it going,
or what it doing,
but it doing a lot,
while you do nothing,
you thinking,
if you not watching your mind,
if you don’t know,
where it coming from,
then you nothing,
now where that come from,
I hear this voice tell me,
whenever I am bored,
slug in my kitchen,
he live under my fridge,
I ask him why he not in the garden,
he say too cold outside,
but I tell him this is summer,
he nod his head,
and I am sure I saw him,
shrug his shoulders,
he said I used to live under the copper pot,
and that it was a long walk to my kitchen,
He asked me if I minded,
I said no “as long as you don’t come out during the day”,
Not that I don’t like you,
just that I might mistaken you for a slug,
and you know what people do to slugs,
“Yes I know”, he said,
He asked me if i could drop him some slices of cucumber,
from time to time,
so he did not have to venture off too far for food,
and, “please don’t cut them too thick”,
“as I am not a mountain climber”,
I said, “what about some of those pellets I can get from homebase”,
He said nothing, but I am sure I saw him smile,
So one day when the sun came out,
and the temperature soared,
I put him out in the garden,
Occationally I would drop some lettuce,
near where I left him by the copper pot,
and I wondered if slugs were snails,
who left their homes behind.
(to be continued whenever I am bored – never ending poem)
Related Images:
