Snippets of Life

[Give a Damn] Colour

2010-11-13T03:08:00.003+02:00

I am not the colour of the paper I write to you on,
I might be less than violet and so much more than saffron.
I am not just pink but the cerise that flows loudly right through me,
So much more opaque than you could expect me to be.

You thought you knew me,
You thought you could colour-assume me.
But this is not a whine of independence or my anger at you,
This is my exposure of your inadequate recognition of hue.

You thought you knew what I loved and what I might like,
You assumed I was powerless, an ambivalent and naïve white.
You thought I might like you so you beat me up outside a bar,
Until that evening for me turned to a horrible black char.

You were just nervous and protected an inane feigned anger,
While your blood flowed unwelcomed hot colours in amber.
You were heated, you were angry, you were unlistening and you were scared,
You were everything your mother taught you not to be while you only saw red.

You made me feel pain so deep I thought I would never forget,
Like unresolved, undecided oil paint on a canvas still wet.
But whet behind the ears you thought you had resolved your confusion therein,
While you live inside your victory, you’re only shroud in a resentful green.

So we walked in different directions and I chose the white dove,
Because you will never ever know the colour of my love.
You are not my type but you thought that because I was gay,
You could excuse your behaviour with areas you deemed grey.

Unacceptable in my world that thrives on colours in kaleidoscope,
All you do to yourself is tighten that oatmeal coloured neck-rope.
It’s not ok and I hope you find a brighter path before you sink,
But know that there is so much more to my world than simply being pink.

We will walk different journeys – I will send you a white dove,
Because you could never ever know the colour of my love.
I am not just your expected pink but a rainbow that flows brightly right through me,
And we are a so much more wonderment than you will ever understand us to be.

Under the Milky Way

2010-09-03T23:10:00.000+02:00

Maybe I’m just scared

Scared of being an adult

Scared of loving and not being loved

Maybe I’m scared because they are older now than they should be
Maybe I am scared because I knew this day would come but didn’t think yet
Maybe

Maybe I try too hard
Maybe I fall to hard
Maybe

Maybe I can’t hurdle as well as I think I can
Or earn as much as I think I can in the expected timespan
Maybe I can’t fix what might not need fixing
Maybe

Maybe I like to stay awake at night by myself just because
Maybe it doesn’t mean anything like being up to no-good
I could sleep and dream or be awake and fantasise
Maybe

Maybe I fall too hard

Maybe I expect too hard

Maybe I admonish too hard

Maybe I’m already everything I planned I would be…
Not the actor although always performing
Maybe they already look at me impressed and wonder why I still think I don’t know what I’m doing

Maybe

Maybe I try too hard

Maybe I cry too hard

Maybe I am angry
Maybe I don’t know why –
Why I walk and talk and do silly things for my own regret
Maybe

Maybe not

Maybe he thinks I’m silly too and just keeps going
Or is he ever-patient and ever-knowing?
Is his big love the same as my big love?
Maybe

Maybe I don’t accept enough

Maybe

When will it stop?
Where will it end?
Maybe when I turn the corner and things are just different…
Maybe

Who you were in smaller clothes

2010-08-24T16:58:00.000+02:00

Where did it come from,
this great big alarm?
This inside crucifying,
doing my personality this harm?

It bore from things outside of my control,
and now it gnaws at me like a hungry troll.
I never asked it to be a crutch, or a need for the pill,
so why does it taunt me so, from the window sill?

It makes me forget, about the magic I see,
it depletes the oxygen from the fire in me.
By forcing me to focus on so much else,
replacing my personality with grey ghoul of ghost.

The flickers of my greatness sit behind steel gates,
kept away from me by that same spate of hate –
that links me to my past and debilitates my now,
refusing me by I to allow myself to grow.

They say it is only I who holds myself back,
they might be right and I’ll try to learn from all that.
But I confess that I may still have my doubts,
they live long in the darkness and depths of the cuts.

They don’t just breeze away like clouds in the wind,
it takes a lot more than that, to truly and fully mend.
It can take notepads and music and books to find the fire,
and even more of all this, to no longer walk the wire.

But I hope I find the key to those horrible big gates,
because I’m bored of this constricting, anger and hate.
it lets up at times feeding us glimmers of hope,
but then it simply giggles at me, and then tightens the rope.

It makes me want to ask…

Do you really think that we have time?
While we plot this map to a fanciful sublime?
A place where Tink walks ink footprints on a map,
where we never grow old, or we ever agree to that?

Where your head actually clears and you can smell the air,
when you forgive the baggage and let go of despair?
When you remember who you were in smaller clothes,
without forgetting where it is that you still want to go?

When you think about playgrounds and music forever,
those are the same thoughts that you always promised to treasure.
But getting caught up in today is the hefty price,
a bigger risk always than just throwing the dice.

So maybe just go back to the pure and the simple,
to innocent moments and that juvenile dimple.
to a time you know you exhibited honest love,
when you felt that satisfying warmth on your heart like a glove.

That place that you know, you know still exists,
on your palm, for your life and in your heart’s history books.
It never goes away or really forgets about you,
it’s only you who needs to know, what you want to do…

Dylan Balkind ©

In the shadows of your den

2010-03-09T10:58:00.000+02:00

Storms unleashed with an evil kiss,
in an eon of uncertainty while the darkness hissed.
It was certainly not great or even just a little bit sublime,
this was the mess that was 2009.

I grew and I fought but I didn’t necessarily have to like it,
I stared blankly back at faces who told me I would survive it.
I didn’t ask for a war with the Universe herself,
I wanted to walk through it coolly, without any strife.

But we don’t always get what we want and there’s no guarantee we ever will,
while we sit on the abysmal 2009 windowsill.
But hopefully only abysmal while you look back on the mess,
quite clear of murk and only gleaming optimism for the rest.

So, you ask for hardiness in your new army of men,
the army that will make up your empowered thoughts for 2010.
There will be no more flirting with the dark ego itself,
your humility will abandon your pride and put its arrogance on the shelf.

Look after yourself a little more in the months to come,
more about actual care and feelings – and less about the gun.
The gun you shot off too often and always far too loudly,
while you walked through 2009 misinformed and all proudly.

And no more trampling on your souls fragile boundary fence,
and no more daring evil kisses with uninformed confidence.
But be sure to lose nothing while you heal in the shadows of your den,
and be only a wiser and happier self as you face 2010.

A new day and a year that will be completely sunny and fine,
certainly more than great and so much more than sublime.
For 2009 is gone and I am ready to walk in –
to a happier and healthier space as I face 2010.

1999

2009-11-18T22:52:00.004+02:00

It was 1999 and you could smell it. When the river met the sunset and the water met the edge. Orange in colour. In air. In feel. And on your skin.

When the people you were with were more than family and the things you heard were more than lessons. They were fables shared and memories in the making. When holidays were journeys of the soul… and the mind… and they transcended its own boundaries. When the people who were there then – and who are not here now – shared moments we never thought would go away.

It was 1999 and you could smell it. Computers were about to die and we were on the Orange River. Calculators were about to be confused with their own programming and we didn’t give a shit. We thought about sunscreen, swimming, capsizing and a safe place to sleep at night. We wondered how not to be wimps, while being wimps.

It was when friendships were being formed, reformed… and engagements were fresh; where personalities were incarnate and no pretences were upheld… when people had responsibilities and responsibilities were being ignored – on purpose.

It was 1999 and I was new. Obnoxious. Arrogant. All-knowing… but new. New in my skin. A skin that only then had a name… And a new way in how it was then negotiating an avenue to present itself, its personality, my walk, my talk. How I held my eyes and where they “did not look”. (The guide was an attractive Adonis of a man – you must know.)

It was 1999 and the first and last change of millennium we will ever traverse. Jean. Sandra. Barry. Mags. Shelly. Patrick. Niki. Glenn. Kim. Jason. Mel. Ant. Richard. Lynette. Terry. Viv. Karen… and me. On a way through life we could never have imagined; floating through some issues and rapidly through others.

It was 1999 and you could smell it. You still can if you try hard enough. Raw, vigilant yet friendly times where people listened without listening and swam without having to keep their heads above water. It was 1999 and it was what it was. Just that. Just great times. Just a journey. Just a spectacular leap of faith for those who thought they couldn’t do it and did – and those who thought they knew they could and didn’t quite…

It was 1999 and you could smell it.

I still try.

Do you?

© Dylan Balkind 2009

Baskets of happiness

2009-11-18T15:35:00.005+02:00

Your energy is a decision that has the strength to be relentless, immeasurable and unmatchable. Your naivety is beautiful and its innocence can be invigorating, illuminating and most of all pure. The only decisions we should be worried about, are those to be open and a willingness to engage, receive and appreciate that our inexperience is an offering rather than a crutch.

Building paper houses on the beach where the tide washes in is the same sense of fragility we negotiate everyday; a tight rope between feeling creatively good about ourselves while being subject to impulses, urges and the whim of those who share in our space and our time.

So… it is not always easy not to get involved… But… your senses are your God-given gifts that reward you with the prize of being able to be tangible with your surrounds and the personalities that you connect with daily. Collect only the good stuff that carries the glitter and the magic into your life and put it into your basket of happiness to take with you on your own snippets-of-life journey - to wherever it is you are going.

© Dylan Balkind 2009

Each day - its own surprise

2009-11-16T11:09:00.005+02:00

Between cooking, birthdays, gatherings, movies and more cooking – I realised this weekend what a blessing it is to have people in your life – who actually matter. I won’t say I have never felt lonely, but in retrospect that has only been because of a self serving need for having something to complain about. It’s been easy to complain about people and how they might let you down, or disappoint you or not be there. But then you see who is and that you are still blessed in that.

There’s only one month to go before we hit the road for a two week break in Hermanus… doing nothing! I have never looked forward to doing nothing as much as I do right now. To read and relax and eat seafood and drink wine and hang out with people or avoid them at all costs; each day will be its own surprise.

I think it has been a hell of a year. And although some of the transforming went down like razor blades, and that it is maybe only over the last week that I am feeling the results, its warming to feel that I got here. And got back. Back to that unrelenting optimism I used to have and carry about me like wares on my journey. I lost it somewhere along the way in the melee to be in front. But I found it again; and here I am.

Hello world. I’m changed but still me. And thrilled that each day is its own surprise.

© Dylan Balkind 2009

Mags 06.08.1978

2009-08-05T09:18:00.004+02:00

You came into my life. You enjoy my CDs,
You teach me to seize opportunities.
I’ve watched you walk the plank and survive it evermore.
I’ve watched you never fear for closing doors.

You showed me that some people actually can be real,
You shared your love and you taught me how to heal.
You taught me to trust again and showed me so many precious things.
You taught me your own real meaning of being ‘best friends’.

So I’ve learnt…

Friends are friends who come over. Over to drink.
Drink to chat. Chat to clear the air.
Air that needs clearing. Clearing spaces in time, mind, heart and soul.
Soul that might be sad or angry. Angry because life isn’t always fair.
Fair enough, because who says it ever has to be?
Be open when you feel like this because you know.
Know this is the best way to reflect you.
You that knows, lives, hurts, cries and laughs.
Laughs from the inside out whenever given the chance.
Chances taken because your subconscious decided.
Decided this is how it would be.
Be ok because you have security in that.
That place you created when you were innocent and young.
Young enough not to care about any issues but being bold.
Bold enough to live without fear.
Fear of maybe never having, losing or being without friends.
Friends who come over.

I beg you not to change but know you never will,
Because your mantra is that life must know your drill.
You’re a breeze of fresh air and this is your fuel,
You are the most honest person because you are real.

You came into my life. You enjoy my CDs,
You teach me to seize opportunities.
You taught me to trust again and showed me so many precious things.
And taught me your own real meaning of being ‘best friends’.

© Dylan Balkind 2009

Wandering from the light

2009-02-25T13:20:00.005+02:00

Sometimes you wander from where the light was shining,
but find your way back fuelled by your darkened souls pining –
For the way you always thought your life would pan out,
and now that you’re back you have absolutely no doubt…

You did stupid things at all hours of the night,
and you made people angry and started many fights.
But only because they worried and truly care about you,
and no strangers you thought you knew, can ever truly know you…

Because it takes time and life to get inside someone’s head,
and understand what they love about life – and why they are scared of being dead.
What makes them cry while sad, laughing, depressed or happy,
and why it is that we never really get out of the nappy…

We all have a crutch and a way to exist,
while we pretend we are big with such vehement persist.
We do things for reactions for ones self or with others,
while forgetting so quickly that none of this matters.

That the shoes standing on your heart – are probably yours,
because you continue to shun reality and close the same old doors.
Only inside-your-head can understand why it-is-what-it-is,
and that is the funny part, that you actually dread.

Let go of insecurity and its best-friend the paranoia squirm,
it’s all in your own head, that nobody will confirm.
And when you see it like this you will see a new is-what-it-is.
Strength, fighting survival and real emotional happiness.

And you might wander again from where that light is shining,
but you will find your way back by your darkened souls pining –
Because you know the way you thought your life would pan out,
and you know that coming back, is the only undoing of doubt.

© Dylan Balkind 2009

Stellar Bright

2009-01-06T12:25:00.010+02:00

Frogs croak and firecrackers abound,
all I need now is a dozen fireflies around -
to make life more like a fairy tale than ever before,
but I see that it is what it is, as I stare out from the stage door.

Lightning lights up the sky that I’m looking at once again,
I see my view has changed while I immersed myself within -
a joyful energy and an upbeat rhythm inside,
a louder drum beating, keeping this rhythm alive.

You know the one, we all do actually,
we are closer to our dreams not dwelling on reality.
You can make others see it too when you open your eyes,
when you step out of the shackles, and shake off the ties.

It is the very texture of people that makes us interesting...

So you write your secret on a postcard and you send it to Frank,
and when you do that, there is only one person to thank.
The person in the mirror who let go of something deep,
and started the uphill walk, not daunted by how steep.

Because sometimes life just is, uphill both ways,
it is your commitment to the journey that will change you in a way -
a way that will remind you just where it is that you came from,
while you realign your tempo to the rhythm of a new drum.

What's interesting is that we want to be big when we are small,
that no matter how big you are, you think you’re never quite tall –
tall enough for yourself or maybe a nagging voice within,
but never letting on, preserving only the outward grin.

You can go to school each day and be drowned within,
the gossip and the bullying and the unnecessary chagrin.
Some learned times and some very wasted times at that,
until it dawns on you that inside you’re quite phat…

One day you’ll stop whining and only write about this,
seeing the lessons from your past, ensuring that you grow from it.
And then they’ll stop gossiping because they can see who you are,
a beautiful and stellar bright – star among stars.

So if you don’t like me or what I write about here,
click to another site and go search elsewhere…
For fables about life you know you see yourself in,
and surprisingly acknowledge that on your face sits a grin.

I’m proud of my journey and the diary’s I keep,
on these pages, they’re me, both strong but still weak.
I can look back with humility and remember the old me,
while I listen to the storm that blows in through the trees.

Lightning lights up the sky that I’m looking at once again,
I sip on my wine and I hear the start of the rain.
Ah... I see your view has changed while you immersed yourself within,
and surprisingly you acknowledge that on your face sits a grin.

You look back with humility and remember the old you,
and make plans to fill yet another pair of original shoes.
It is now that you know that we are all the bees knees,
while you too listen, to the storm that blows in through the trees...

© Dylan Balkind 2009

I like this . . .

2009-01-03T13:52:00.001+02:00

“For last year's words belong to last year's language and next year's words await another voice.”

Little Gidding II

For Kat

2008-12-30T10:50:00.006+02:00

Blue street. Your street. My street. Ours.
A friendship knows no boundaries, but only equal powers.
We met one night and made it a late one at that,
I’ve never ever forgotten the moment I met Kat.

So beautiful, so gentle, so very full of love,
a friendship so comfortable and warmer than a sheepskin glove.
She’s never grown old or lost her touch or frayed,
nothing ever wavered and her friendship decorum stayed.

When my heart was sore and I cried all night,
she hugged me and reminded me that all would be alright.
She drove me to Cape Town and took me away from it all,
so that I forgot, and then realised that I was no longer sore.

She never tired and she even listened when it got boring,
and usually at times when the world around us was snoring.
Some people close to me still never get what she does,
her presence is my reminder that a friendship is about “us”.

Peter you’re an amazing and lucky human being,
your blessing is each other and now I know that seeing is believing.
And today on your wedding day when I cannot physically be present,
I send these words, written from my emotional gradient.

Good luck, good love and I wish you everything from above,
stay strong for forever and always come back to the love.
Blue street. Your street. My street. Ours.
Your union will know no boundaries, but only love and equal powers.

All the love and care while I wish I could be there… Dylan.

© Dylan Balkind 2008

Not In

2008-11-17T14:51:00.005+02:00

There’s a bird on a fence and a streetlight nearby, there’s a home to one side and some people inside. They’re outside of being inside the problems they don’t know about... but know about.

They’re blue, yellow, red and green. They watch life through a TV set with no screen.

Mirror.

Five talk, four listen and one sings the song from inside.

It’s Universal.

Do you hear it?

“And what I wouldn’t give… for a soulmate… someone else to catch this drift…”

See your life in the projection of another’s… somewhere, up there.

Mirror.

Round the corner, on a street you may not know, there’s a bird on a fence and a streetlight nearby. There’s a home to one side and some people inside. They’re outside of being inside of problems… they do know about.

Try telling news that your life told before you did -

and see that people are so seldom surprised.

Inveigle Beautiful Thing because it is… it’s beautiful.

© Dylan Balkind 2001

Rhodiola Nouveau

2008-11-11T14:14:00.002+02:00

Sidestepping reality while holding another in my arms,
is both heartbreaking and powerful while it effectively disarms all of your charms.
Because it is one thing to think you could hide behind being someone else,
but how do you do that effectively when you no longer even know yourself?

Destroying lives and my own beach sand castles is not on,
dark sad places are not fun and I’m tired of hanging on –
to falsehoods and people who’s shoulders are fickle still,
who do nothing to put pictures on or to hold up my life’s mantle.

If you get what you put in, I’m not sure I want the pay out,
not sure I like what I put in and now I’m looking for a way out.
A path as far from some of the history’s I’m a little sad to say I have written,
but knowing that I have this feeling now surely means never twice bitten?

The gauntlet got longer as I got older and my emotions are all leather now,
I can’t remember when I got so carried away, but I think I’m better today somehow.
Rhodiola Nouveau is where I make my footprints now, in this way,
it is wholly happier and different to the sad crying blackout I remember from that day.

The irony of what costs the relationships with the people that aren’t at the bar,
the desperation to get out cannot equate the loss of people that really cared about it all –
so much in the beginning, but have since given up running my race,
and I can finally understand their exhaustion, at having to humour my pace.

Going to a place in my soul I wasn’t so happy to recognize,
but am now so glad I did, I can see what I was about to jeopardise.
When the house was quiet and people were sleeping, I journeyed through a story just like my own,
and being able to write about this creatively must be a sign of me having grown…

Wanting and meaning it when you ask the Universe for forgiveness,
is like getting out of a hot bath of bubbles and feeling a rush of blessedness.
Not wanting to be a chameleon or the crowd pleaser anymore,
but mostly not wanting to put my loves and myself – through an unholy unnecessary war.

Rhodiola Nouveau is where I make my footprints now, today -
it’s definitely happier and different to the sad crying blackout I remember from that day.
Because it is one thing to think you could hide behind being someone else,
but how do you do that when you no longer even know yourself?

© Dylan Balkind 2008

Quotes I like

2008-10-16T16:47:00.001+02:00

"I think we all have a little voice inside us that will guide us. It may be God, I don't know. But I think that if we shut out all the noise and clutter from our lives and listen to that voice, it will tell us the right thing to do."

(Christopher Reeve)

Remember . . .

2008-10-10T16:50:00.001+02:00

Pantone's Deal

2008-10-07T16:51:00.008+02:00

A colour sits next to me and plays a part in my space,
it is all-encompassing while it never has to look me in the face.
It is therapy of vitality and it awakens the dead –
lifeless emotions told to be quiet... and its colour is red.

A deep clear blue walked this way, gently calming this existence,
by doing big things and saying so much more than just its little sixpence.
Feminine principles of silver are quiet and mentally cleansing,
this colour therapy thing is with-it and ever so emphatically pleasing.

Whirling in golden abundance is smart when you understand why,
you can enrichen your life entirely if you can simply be bothered to try.
Try letting go of stress and emotional trauma with green,
and when you see it in your silhouette, you will be forced to believe in...

Sharpening your mind and your talents within,
a pale gold, like sunshine, being absorbed into your skin.
Stop worrying about what they might be saying behind your back,
just trust that in truth you can be gallantly powerful with black.

Orange is a joyous anti-depressant and light,
relieving you of your darkest and most inhibiting strife.
And know that green candles can be so much more than just gifts,
that live in good memories and provide emotional lifts...

Judges say poetry has to be this or that, talking about it at length,
but my expression is richest to me when I just listen to my breath.
Moving to a higher frequency I am blue on this day,
As green will be painting the walls of my minster on a Sunday.

© Dylan Balkind 2008

Astrology & Colour Healing

Aries – Red
Taurus – Yellow
Gemini – Violet
Cancer – Green
Leo – Gold
Virgo – Purple
Libra – Yellow
Scorpio – Crimson Red
Sagittarius – Deep Clear Blue
Capricorn – Black & White
Aquarius – Blue with Silver Lights
Pisces – Soft Azure

Remember . . .

2008-09-30T16:32:00.004+02:00

Left On Earth

2008-09-17T11:11:00.010+02:00

When do you know that the light is out?
That death is just death, and your time is just out...
Is it finished, and gone, and forever just black?
Is it your way or my way, is it this way or that?

I can’t believe it is final and that it is simply just gone forever,
We sat talking about it all, so happily here together.
If happiness lives in our conversation, so steadily herein,
How can it just be gone forever, and over so quickly when...

When he loved so very very much and lived life so fully then,
Like a blue sky and grass as green as the most alluring garden.
Conversations here and now don’t make this topic forthright,
And no matter how you say it, it just doesn’t make it alright.

That the big love and a life is gone when that light eventually goes out,
And you just cant change that, not even with all your might.
You can never win, because God is big and he is here,
And the fact is just that death is going to forever be nadir.

In our face and simply a way we have to be,
like the salt on our skin while we holiday at the sea.
It’s a way of life and a normal way to exist,
A happiness to live in, or simply a cease and desist.

Because the stairway to heaven is unfair and unleaven,
It’s never what you agreed to in your life’s contracts written.
It’s a sad time and an exceptionally vulnerable place to be,
It’s actually nothing like the salt on our skin while we holiday at the sea...

So can we believe that the light just flickers and then goes out?
That death is just death, and that your time is just out?
Is it the storybook version or otherwise just the hard black cover?
And if it is just that, will we ever be able to believe that its just over when its over?

© Dylan Balkind 2008

Your Own Little History

2008-09-10T09:29:00.008+02:00

I smelt my childhood just now and remembered some things,
When games were games and a win was just a win…

Like…

Playoffs in yards as kids with imagination,
with demons and horses and gates you open to let yourself in –
to crevices and crannies in worlds far away,
a time I often wish I could go to, as easily today.

Smells might vanish but they’ll leave an air of mystery,
taking you to special times and places in your own little history.
Heartache or happiness from falling or riding a bike,
memories all the same, from very special parts of your life.

We grow up so quickly and so easily forget,
what made us happy was playing in puddles and getting wet.
An innocence and an outlook so unpolluted and untainted,
and pictures so colourfully and uninhibitedly painted.

Poignant questions become exam test and class results,
giving way to insecurities and bouts of competitive clout.
Not so wholesome, and imagination is lost therein,
and no more games are played – where a win is just a win.

Indeed, if we set our hearts to answer but one very famous question*,
we might open a lion’s wardrobe finding another universe to jump in –
to remember happiness and simplicity and things that were really important,
and enforce a reawakening of those things that were previously so dormant.

“Have you seen my Childhood” or smelt it go this way?
I want its innocence back and I am eagerly awaiting the day –
I’ll own it again and remember completely what made me – me,
an unafraid and challenging little boy, so boldly facing the sea.

With the sun on my face and the dunes at my back,
I’m throwing my inhibitions in the superfluous emo sack.
I'm going to go gallantly forward with my memory and smell in tact,
not losing the impetus to say and do what made me write just that.

Games in yards as kids with creative imagination,
a world you control and gates you open to let yourself in –
to coves and gardens and a happiness you found far away,
so remember who you are, and find Your happiness today.

© Dylan Balkind 2008

*Rabbi Yehuda Leib HaLevi Ashlag

Écouter / Myself

2008-09-01T18:31:00.007+02:00

Tomorrow I get up and go at it again,
wanting it and summoning the courage to let the new in.

Running again but not on the path of least resistance,
nor succumbing to failure along the path of least persistence.

I remember you like it was yesterday, coming in from the cold,
you drove it home and personified ‘fortune favouring the bold.’
Watching you do it is an easy-to-grasp sense of bliss,
never willing to lose, even sixty seconds of happiness.

Scared inside but brave while looking out,
we’re stronger when friends help us ditch our debilitating doubt.
Tomorrow I get up, try, and go at it again,
believing, wanting, and summoning the courage to let the light in.

What makes you stay and love endlessly?
Knowing you knowing me, tirelessly and so touchingly.
Courage is being afraid but going on anyhow,
no matter how simple or staggeringly high brow.

Walk like the sun is your spotlight, and let the light shine in,*
more powerful than the will to win, is having the will to begin.**
I know some things are fairy dust and other things are just a myth,
but I know that grasping and living happiness, is also having someone to do it with.

Ambition is something you want to hold on to for longer than long,
And something you pine for, drunkenly when it is gone.
But having friends to kick it with and remind you how,
Is the greatest display of fireworks I’ve seen until now.

My belief in me and my hunger has returned,
so tomorrow I go at it again, even though I might get burned.
Believing and summoning the courage to let a new light in,
because more powerful than the will to win, is having the will to begin.

* Merran Williamson

** Unknown Author

16 Pegs

2008-08-22T11:53:00.003+02:00

1. John Mayer – Free Falling
2. Alanis Morissette – Incomplete
3. Coldplay – God put a smile on your face
4. Tori Amos – Cornflake Girl
5. Adele – Cold Shoulder
6. Mutya Buena – B Boy
7. Kenny Loggins – Danger Zone
8. KT Tunstall – Little Favours
9. Duran Duran – A view to a kill
10. Bow Wow Wow – I want Candy
11. Sara Bareilles – Love Song
12. Madonna – The Devil wouldn’t recognize you
13. John Mayer – Message in a bottle
14. Elton John – Benny & the Jets
15. John Mayer – Say
16. Untitled

Simple Play Things

2008-08-11T17:06:00.001+02:00

It’s dangerous to play with people’s feelings,
doing things you shouldn’t, assuming that hearts are simple play-things.
It’s just as bad to allow it to be done to you,
forfeiting the incomparable truth glue that fastens up you.

Meetings around a table that piss you off and make you groan,
are as constructive as George Bush, behind a microphone.
Crap days full of negativity like schoolyard bullying from evil children,
form a cyanide in your bloodstream, going ever deeper & deeper within.

Speak up when you are angry and escape getting sick,
from angst and feelings, playing constant mind-game tricks.
Dangerous Liaisons involve emotions & psychology,
but cleansing the air makes a healthier, stronger, you and me.

Watching voices talk at you about menial things that shouldn’t even matter,
commits you to a Dangerous Liaison with somebody’s not so grey, grey-matter.
You might get angry and say some stupid things,
or storm out resulting in unresolved situations and some sadly clipped wings.

In professions, in love, and in the Dangerous Liaison thatch,
there is just no such thing – as “no-strings-attached”.
So easily set on fire, and so fragile to begin with,
walk away from the sinful temptation of the cruel intention plinth.

Big green monsters are iffy, and meeting them is scary,
So don’t be jealous and tag this sentiment, wisely.
Some things change and some things will always stay the same,
and my integrity right now, has me leaving the Dangerous Liaison game.

Remind yourself everyday, that it’s dangerous to play with people’s feelings,
carelessly assuming that precious hearts are simple play-things...
Some things change and some things will always stay the same,
So ditch the cruel intention plinth, and the Dangerous Liaison way.

© Dylan Balkind 2008

The Reincarnation Gift

2008-07-30T11:03:00.010+02:00

I believe in reincarnation... sometimes.

I believe I can be incredibly cantankerous and then happy again the next day,
And being at the whim of my bite is simply the price you must pay.
You’ll be warm again and even love me once more,
or you can choose to walk out yet another slamming door.

Or, I might be at the end of your mood and selfish delight,
and passionately profess to hate you with all my might.
And the rebirth of our love is yet another swift mood change-gear,
and together we go on in an honesty pinky-promise swear.

But...
We should know that existing again can come at a high price,
and the gamble we play is so much more than just rolling a dice.
So be kind to this place and leave a light on for yourself,
and decibal dewey your thoughts in your mind library shelf.

Reincarnate yourself with frank meaning to what you say,
to yourself over and over in that head of yours each day.
New lives can exist in many ways and very different states of being,
they’re there for the taking and your seeing will be your believing.

It’s funny how we can hate tomorrow what we cherished today,
but isn’t this simply the reincarnation way?
Starting again in a good minute on this day,
is very much a way of your soul saying ‘Happy Birthday’.

Our popular reasoning is just like a creative line-up screening,
we pick the good from the bad and leave the experience somewhat teeming -
- because ‘popular’ is subjective and will also reincarnate itself,
from memories on your dewey decibal mind library shelf.

So then, falling off the rail is ok when people can’t be bothered to listen,
because their ugliness today will be their beauty in tomorrow’s glisten.
And we will surely all be happy, eventually,
Like the immortal leaves on the charming reincarnation tree.

And so the sun shines brightly through the very darkest of clouds,
reincarnating your happiness, and erasing all your doubts.
And starting again in a good minute on this day,
means we’re grasping the gift of the reincarnation way.

© Dylan Balkind 2008

Remember . . .

2008-07-29T10:16:00.002+02:00

“Whether one believes in a religion or not, and whether one believes in rebirth or not, there isn't anyone who doesn't appreciate kindness and compassion.”

Dalai Lama

Poppy Time

2008-07-25T16:41:00.007+02:00

There’s a lot to be said for pure intention and the price of time,
and knowing that time you enjoyed wasting is not the same as wasted time¹.
It’s as important as trying to live your life without sin,
as is the important sense of pride that comes from being believed in.

Calmly setting free the impact of this much energy,
is something I’m still learning and can’t say when I’ll be ready -
- to understand averages and probability,
being the result of rejection, dejection and transformability.

Fragile cups filled with magical thoughts and a priceless soup,
both wonderful and poisonous in a left-brain/right-brain power struggle coup.
Knowing when we’ve let the bad stuff out, hurting someone along the way,
and having to have faith in the blessing of a brand new day.

I just want my life rhythm to be like exclamation points,
and to be fully lived, in every muscle and all my joints.
And although we want life to exist in a field of poppy’s and sunshine rays,
the bigger lessons might be learned in the shadows of abandoned alley ways.

It’s hard to be dedicated to enjoying every moment of every day,
and the shit that life throws at us is the heavy price we pay -
- for forgetting why and what it is we are here to do,
and trust me, when I find out, I will tell you.

Still I run in a field of poppy’s and sunshine rays,
and I’m determined to stay happy, in so many ways.
Slowly learning pure intention and the price of wasted time,
but I know that time I enjoy wasting it not the same as wasting time!

© Dylan Balkind 2008

¹ Ref: TS Elliot

Remember . . .

2008-07-23T14:32:00.001+02:00

"You risk tears if you let yourself be tamed."

Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince

Shoreditch / Then

2008-07-22T14:53:00.007+02:00

I left my mind in Shoreditch then,
an era in a place like a double edged blade-switch when –
- things were so familiar but unacknowledged in any possible way,
like a place you see and walk past every day.

Detail & places you must see before you’re 69,
will make your mirth lines render you simply divine.
Like performances and fireworks Live in the park,
or just lighting incense and sitting in the dark.

I never quite put my finger on it,
It seemed a hazy blur.
Not knowing where cycles began and courses ran,
Like the audio was wrapped in fur.

I say tom/ah/toe, you say to/may/toe,
And my popularity makes you a jerk.
But eat thy bread with joy and drink thy wine with a merry heart,
For God now accepteth thy works.

Now welcome to my hideout.
My timeout. My space away from the endless runabout.
It is sometimes dark, yet it can be extraordinarily bright –
Or like a shape that you may never completely make out.

It might smell of freshly mowed and very wet grass,
Or cut like you’re walking on shards of shatterd glass.
It can be kind and it can be restfully warming,
And its vastness can be remarkably disarming.

It’s my personality it is, my excess runabout,
my timeout and my space away from the endless muck-about.
And so what if I left my mind in Shoreditch that day -
Or at a place you see, and walk past every day...

Still...

If I ever get to be that superlative 69,
I trust my mirth lines will paint me truly divine.
I might be even louder then, and still run towards the might,
Or simply sit by myself, smelling incense at night.

It’s my personality this is, and my way to go within -
A me hoping to forvever wear, a happy-go-lucky grin.

© Dylan Balkind 2008

ref: Ecclesiastes 7

Resigning from the Herd

2008-07-15T10:35:00.010+02:00

Feeling different amid feeling distinctly better,
I turned that page and I’m seeing it much simpler.
This grasping gallantly at my individuality,
Animates a latent spirituality.

The corner of your universe you can focus on improving,
is to be a better you and to never stop touching -
- the walls of your world moreover making the best of,
such a sincere existence while forgetting all the drivel rest-of.

Few have frankly exhibited being a true individual,
But seeing it happen makes me less deplorable –
- Of the world I might worry to expound myself honestly in,
And the bliss of the light inside me becomes free of chagrin.

Your revered rhythm is a demonstration and a performance to bestow,
If you listen to it contentedly you will grow and you will know -
That a man is a force and his energy is rife,
When he resigns from the herd and he thinks for himself.

Total character and distinguishing an individual
Brings you back to a knowing and a growing spiritual,
You might have to be bold and wake some people up –
- But knowing that you can’t please all of the people all of the time...
Will be the biggest gift you give yourself and the ultimate leg up.

Remember . . .

2008-07-14T13:30:00.001+02:00

“Cherish forever what makes you unique,
‘cuz you're really a yawn if it goes.”

Bette Midler

I like this...

2008-07-09T09:17:00.003+02:00

Vitamin D K B

2008-07-08T10:57:00.003+02:00

You want a new future so you rewrite your past. Your words. Your thoughts. Your hopes and fears. You pretend you had always meant to do whatever you did – and inside you cringe. Bread goes stale. Cheese goes stale. We go stale... but only when we let us.

.
Ctrl. Alt. Del. Refresh! Be new. Be well. Keep walking.
.
Pick a journey, take a ride. Run, hop, skip, jump – do it! Make a return to innocence because, in every Mona Lisa Smile is a big bold grin and an overzealous laugh. That place inside us never goes away – our laziness just covers it up.
.
Life’s rush shrouds initial intentions and sells out to double standards and a bar we are always trying to reach. Be proud of you, of what you can do – and then do it.

Ctrl Alt. Del. Refresh! Be new. Be well. Keep walking.

Let's say

2008-07-02T16:14:00.003+02:00

(old writings)

Let’s aim for suicide and settle on depression,
Let’s ponder this loneliness some more,
Let’s recount how many friends seemed to promise delivery and then seemingly failed to do so.

Let’s not, and say we did.

Let’s meet old friends and hope to pick up where we left off.
Let’s indulge in outpouring of our souls and declare a cleansing and ultimately feeling better.
Let’s re-acquaint in a feigned reality and find comfort in the patterns of old routines.

Let’s not, and say we did.

Let’s throw out reality and say ‘what are you on?’
Let’s negate all boundaries and draw the line at nowhere,
Let’s eradicate all reason and tradition and find new meaning to this union.

Let’s not, and say we did.

Let’s run to the ends of the earth.
Or let’s not, and just say we did.

© Dylan Balkind 2001

Unstable

2008-07-02T16:13:00.004+02:00

(old writings)

Unstable, I stumble, and fall into this pit. Life is peculiar... so funny in fact that, were I to die now, it’d be laughing myself to death.

I think it’s funny how straight forward others are in pointing out my defaults. I think it’s funny how their objectivity dissempowers self evaluation for them. I think it’s funny how what was once so strong has withered, and now all I can ask for is the once-a-week obligatory phone call. I think it’s funny how obsessive I am about others’ non obsessiveness about me. I think it’s funny how paranoia works. I think it’s funny how I only see myself in context of their opinions and social reviews of me. I think it’s funny how the stories I tell seem to make only my heart beat faster. I think it’s funny how filmic representation has made such an impact on my ideology, that distinguishing for me, is now so hard to do.

I think it’s funny how no matter how we walk and talk in the different roles we play, inadequacies always outweigh the proposed confidence and we become transparent for it. I think it’s funny how longing for sets me up for overexposed pictures from the negatives I was so keen to see. I think it’s funny how I go through life as this glowing ball of influential energy, yet am unable to consume it myself. I think it’s funny how I can rant and rave on paper and then tell myself I’ve dealt with those frustrations, that anger, that pain. I think it’s funny how after all that, there is still a glimpse of hope, even if disguised in one single persons acknowledgement of me. I think it’s funny how in the short time we’re given, we toss aside lessons that continually slap us in the face and persist to take time and life for granted. I think it’s funny how ‘we’ becomes ‘he’ becomes ‘we’ becomes ‘I,’ (alone). I think it’s funny that I see it that way and still waste time and energy worrying, and controlling.

Ergo, I think it’s funny how unstable we all are. Unstable, we (all) stumble, falling into this pit (with me).

© Dylan Balkind 2001

Humbled

2008-07-02T16:11:00.003+02:00

(old writings)

The phone stopped ringing, I stopped whining and entertaining turned to entertainment – required. Belittled by belittling factors of inner feuds and eventual death. Pining shadows whining and stillness sets in.

Time lost, birthdays missed, temptress evil of the financial kiss. Alone finds new meaning from being to wanting to giving – of me. The other in the mirror says ‘remember me,’ and acquainted memories come into focus.

Walking the plank to travel and splendour, geographical argues with headspace and time is a vendor. Silly rhyme scheme here we go, let’s continue this lifetime show. Because entertaining always turns to entertainment – required.

The seats in solitude theatre are comfy. So sit, enjoy and take in the surround, when pining shadows whining and stillness sets in.

© Dylan Balkind 2001

Planet Revolving

2008-07-01T12:03:00.009+02:00

We live on a planet revolving,
So full of colour and chronicles.
So rich. So barren.
So humbling and luminous.

Tomorrow I’ll water small animals, big animals and things truly great,
You may read this and post it for some truly interesting spate.
Simple mechanics - a gamble we say,
Watching this long-lost baton relay.

Humans open your eyes and hear the sound of the breaking stick,
The cogs in the machine remain purely voyeuristic.
Stop to take it in, it isn’t just as it seems,
The energy of nature and the nature of sweet dreams.

Mammals, reptiles and birds from this planet,
A miracle of energy to entertain you in where you're at.

So rich. So barren.
Such an honest and wide array.
It can make you speechless and it can make you want to pray.

Ecosystem with personality -
- personality with love.
It’s LIFE in its most zealous form,
Nothing but art.

We live on a planet revolving.

Movies

2008-06-30T16:57:00.008+02:00

After a bit of a week, I decided Friday night should not consist of p*&sing hundreds up against the wall in some bar, and thought a movie would be better. Bad timing meant our choices were limited, so with fewer options we settled on Forgetting Sarah Marshall.

What a SURPRISE. I laughed, loudly!

It's so perfectly apt! For anyone who has had an ex, and wished you'd never see them again but secretly hoped you did and thought about what you might do or say or wear... And how if that ever happens, it's never quite as you planned, is it?

Paul Rudd is without doubt the show steeler as Chuck, the stoner-surf-instructor.

QUOTES:

Chuck: There's only one cure for pain like that.
Peter Bretter: What?
Chuck: Weed. Ya got any?
Peter Bretter: No.
Chuck: Well then, let's just go surfing!

…a logical conclusion.

Go out and see it! Worth every penny.

PS: Needless to say, drank enough on Saturday night to compensate for Friday…

For Benji

2008-06-30T13:05:00.005+02:00

Little boy, big boy, better boy daily,
You came into our lives and we thought it was raining.
Extra large jeans on an extra small boy,
You looked at life like a child does a toy.

You died, you left us, you’ve gone away,
To a world and a better place, in so many ways.
So better for you and so applied,
A world to revel in with your courage and pride.

I miss you terribly you Beautiful Thing,
Your energy was a contagious and wonderful thing.
Ebbing, flowing but always so Benji,
The void is large and we all miss you plenty.

Little boy, big boy, better boy daily,
Your absence is felt but that goes without saying.
Extra large jeans on an extra small boy...
You looked at life beautifully, like a child does a toy.

© Dylan Balkind 2008

Cheshire Cat

2008-06-30T09:12:00.003+02:00

A new guy, a new night sky with stars and galaxy’s to look at
As wonderful and enticing as a Cheshire Cat.
A new road ridden, a new life visited,
A me with a new you and a new picture scene created.

A great journey and a beautiful ride,
A me without hesitation or any sense of pride.
Just comfort and living within,
A situation truly bright, like one soul in a set of twins.

Happy and comfortable and starting to be me,
A me without hesitation, planting a new relationship tree.

I looked at me in yesteryear through writings and things that I had said,
Like a book I had written and already read.
A me so pure and truly fascinating,
It unlocked the gate and let me walk in –
- to a time in my life I now appreciate,
without hesitation, and seeing the brilliance and the great.
In things I did and people I loved,
Wrapped up warmly like winter hands gloved.

Now I know and can immerse myself in that,
With happiness and splendour and a pat on my back.
A new guy, a new night sky with stars and galaxy’s to look at –
As wonderful and beautiful as a Cheshire Cat.

© Dylan Balkind 2008

Rhymes

2008-06-30T09:09:00.002+02:00

If only could stop writing in rhyme, I might say - -

Things have been hard but not as hard as they could have been,
They’ve been all things all encompassing and always interesting,
They’ve been big things and small things and things wonderful.
They’ve been sometimes selfish and sometimes plentiful

They’ve made me sad and want to die,
And sometimes they made me satisfied with a big cry.

They’ve made me generous and selfish and caring again.
Never without a race I thought I could win.
It has been haunting it has been surreal and it has been true
And sitting here I see the mirror and finally feel “I know you”.

So nothing regretted some hated some loved,
We’re all fully aware life is not a clean white dove.
But happy now and calmer inside,
And more satisfied with the bumpy ride.

If only I could stop writing in rhyme…
I’d be different and this life wouldn’t be quite mine.

© Dylan Balkind 2008

all I need

2008-06-30T09:02:00.004+02:00

We could go together and tell them we’re just good friends. We could bide our time on their naivete. We could go away together and be what we want to be,

Now all I need, is a ‘you.’

We could hang out together and ignore their conventional stars. We could return their aversions of acknowledgement, leaving the discomfort with them. We could love our lives and just be 'we,’

Now all I need, is a ‘you.’

We could be childish together and still sleep at night. We could laugh at ourselves and take the mickey out of ‘us.’ We could promise to each other for forever,

Now all I need, is a ‘you.’

We could tempt the margins of the other side of the fence. We could bounce ourselves off these impeding walls. We could pretend for forever, both ‘we’ or just me,

Now all I need, is ‘you.’

We could serve one another the fuel frenzied hand. We could run away together and realize that home is where we want to be. We could go out of our heads to somewhere we both understand.

Now all I need, is a ‘you.’

© Dylan Balkind 2001

COINS

2008-06-30T09:00:00.002+02:00

Reverse, subvert and stand behind the line.
And demons smirk while stay there –
you wide eyed boy. Watching them talking about the way you move –
your head
your headspace

In this world, where coins have two heads,
Heads they win, tails you lose. Dial a number to no reply…

You stand on the platform of androgyny as representation misfortune
While small minds shut down, misunderstanding space to share –
Silent head
Silent headspace

Being muted keeps you lucky.
Free from bashing. Free from bruising.
Understand this, and tell your stories through selective mediums to selected ears and selecting opinions shouted from un-muted mouths.

The scope is growing – don’t tremble at the treble of the volume increase…
Whispering head
Deafening headspace
And they thought you might –
reverse subvert, and stand behind the line........

And in the blink of an instance,
the universe smiles and nods her head.

© Dylan Balkind 2001

Beautiful Thing

2008-06-27T12:14:00.002+02:00

Yesterday was not a good day. I woke up feeling sorry for myself.

I coerced myself out of bed and went to work dragging my knuckles on the floor. A friend visited me during during lunch. The visit was to break some very sad news to me in person... the news that a friend of mine had died.

The rest of the day was hazy. Numb. And chilling! Puts things in perspective and I'm not feeling sorry for myself anymore.

Go in peace Benjamin Magowan.

Untitled

2008-06-27T11:41:00.002+02:00

Backdrop heard / nothing painted / not that kind of art
It makes you think, it makes you feel and it makes you kind of smart
Because for once you're quiet and go within
Within a you so normally noisy and with a heavily scarred chin

Lazy / chilled / so very beautiful
Life is better now and much more plentiful
I saw the light and immersed myself within
Within a me so normally noisy with a heavily scarred chin

A full notepad and a pen to match
I said I would write my own re-match
I'm back I'm proud I'm happier than before
There will be no more hiding behind those silly closed doors

Twinkling / Sparkling / My life is good
It's truly amazing when you do what you always knew you could
You love better you live better you learn new things
It's true what they say it's "flying without wings"

I'm not scared anymore to jump right in
In to a me so normally noisy with a heavily scarred chin