Archive for the Poetry Category

Only Questions

Posted in Life, Past, Poetry, Present with tags , , , , , on January 4, 2013 by Shea Atkin

Sitting with no answers
Only questions of motives
And a sinking feeling in my gut–
Only though about after the alleged occurrence

Questioning what is real
And what is just perception
And aren’t both the same?

Leaves me to ask
What’s the point of all this?

A long succession of self-judged failures
Masking as a lesson
At least that is how it feels

This journey, that is supposed to be the point?

I make more mistakes than ever before
Or maybe I’m just more aware
Or maybe my position on the word mistake has changed

Wanting to escape the elusive “I am”
Hit the pause button every now and then
Longing for the easier way I had grown so accustomed

But the honest way provides no shortcuts
No escape routes
The distance is the same for everybody
That comforts
And irritates me
All at the same time

This human experience
The unpredictability of it all
The unknown
And the known
Is everything
And nothing
All at the same time

This is trust

Posted in Life, Past, Poetry, Present with tags , , , , , , , on September 18, 2012 by Shea Atkin

That moment you can choose not to
But you do
The easier way would be to back out
But you don’t

You put yourself out there
Probably scared
But practice not contingent on the outcome

It builds
Little by little
By taking chances
Feeling the fear
And doing it anyway

By wanting something different
And risking loss
At all costs

Potentially facing
Abandonment
Heartbreak
Rejection
Punishment
Judgment

It’s that little voice inside
That yearns for something more
Than previous behavior allowed

It’s swallowing the pride
And disarming the ego
Simply because
It’s the right thing to do

It’s a shaky faith
In the midst of chaos
While knowing that

Practice

Is the only way

To strengthen

It’s that place that scares the hell out of you
While processing

And that place that you don’t yet trust
But you trust in the theory of trust
So you decide to give it a try

It’s all the things
That fear is not

And to the extent of risk
Is the capacity of
Joy
And
Sadness

All the while knowing
That if the full heart
Isn’t invested
Then what’s the point?

As I Sit.

Posted in Life, Past, Poetry, Present with tags , , , , , on August 28, 2012 by Shea Atkin

The thoughts come
And they go
Aware of the judgment
To what I deem
Good
Or
Bad
And how often that delusion keeps me
From living authentically

Recognition of existence doesn’t mean it is new
It is acceptance of what is

I choose to sit with the uncomfortable
Simply being present poses it’s own challenges
How often I want to escape…
Just because.

Most of my life was spent escaping from perception

Created delusions to justify behavior

Manipulation of facts to continue believing the lie

The judgment I sit with
Is my own
And my worst critic
Is myself

That said–
I project less on you
When I’m honest about me

Denying reality
To appear better
Only
Makes
Us
Sicker

Truth will set us free.

Stumbling into Sanity

Posted in Life, Past, Poetry, Present on June 27, 2012 by Shea Atkin

Reflecting.

Two years ago tomorrow I fell into a path I had no intention of pursuing

As the walk continued
There have been many pitfalls of self

The sediment became visible
And as erosion occurred
The natural elements corroded by earth surfaced to at last be identified

To the extent of destruction
Did the possibility of restoration appear

Scouring the surface
Through sweat and tears
All necessary to penetrate
The rust that has always existed
On the iron bars of my heart

Trust becoming experiential
Instead of theoretical

Imagery essential to confirm validity

Hope born out of suffering
And vice versa

The gift of detaching
After
Experiencing the beauty of The Now

Questioning my’self’ constantly
Although
Aware of Source that resides quietly within
Offering direction when I choose to listen

Awakening.
Listening.
Hearing.
Applying.

Simplicity flows from the most complex of sources

Presently here

Even though I have every excuse why not to be

Illusions

Posted in Life, Poetry, Present on May 7, 2012 by Shea Atkin

Monotonous confessions swirling in the vortex of emotion
Clawing up to the surface to breathe in what is necessary and let go of filler

Survival tactics called upon when threatened
And faced with the illusion of decision

Choice is fleeting

Fabrications of elemental constructs block the purpose of original intent
Flippantly discarding what could essentially tear down the walls that were established involuntarily
Or possibly voluntarily
Whichever it is doesn’t matter
Either way
A wall
Is a wall

Irony permeates the moral fabric
As the wreckage starts to slip away
Leaving an open expansion
That can be interpreted
As Desolation
Or Freedom

Perception is the only reality.

Truth

Posted in Life, Poetry, Present on February 21, 2012 by Shea Atkin

Anticipating the progression of the end
Floating past the beginning into the journey
Trying to feel the space fully, for some sort of closure or answer
I don’t know what I’m looking for but I’m sure you will give me all I need in that

I’m learning, experiencing, trying, waiting, listening
Sitting with “it”
Uncomfortable, but ok with that
The deeper knowing makes sense at my core

The feelings will pass
They always do
But that doesn’t mean it’s easy, this life as I know it

This journey fearlessly into the unknown vast expansion of the soul
The sadness that is necessary for joy
The enlightenment that comes through pain
The creativity that overflows after a drought

Aware of the unawareness that is present so many times when myself gets in the way
Synchronicity vanishes when ego arrives

Holding onto the illusive is a recipe for insanity
Serendipity expected when aligned with the source

Simple linguistic nuances more profound than eloquent speech that waters down the true meaning
Hiding behind the words are the hidden meanings unfiltered by context

Filling the spaces with what really matters
Which sometimes means with nothing
The absence of

Fueled from deep within is the product that is evident and created out of nothing
By myself
I sit
But not alone
Never alone

A fearless wanderer in the devout pursuit and expectation of truth

A Work In Progress

Posted in Life, Poetry, Present on February 12, 2012 by Shea Atkin

Accessing that place that was avoided for so long
Cultivating the soil that was easier to leave alone
Undisturbed to the point of death
Life only comes to the living

Simple paradigm shift causing the most drastic tsunami of the soul
As it washes away the debris
Accumulated by stagnation and indifference

Placing value on the process
Rather than the symptom
That presented itself as a chain reaction

Looking and seeing
Past the emotion
That often clouds an unobstructed view

Breathing in and out
While cognizant
Of the tiny space
That separates the two
Aware of the fluidity of said space

Deconstructing the tiny fragments
So eventually
They will fit together
As a whole
Completely