Azure Adam Ward To Daniel Herskovits & Sat Shree Thank you Introduction The trouble with looking back over poetry, is that - In my experiences, it’s so fucking cringe. It’s like someone had ridden their fingers down a chalk board or ruffled velvet up the wrong way. If I look at myself explaining my spiritual experiences- it is the same feeling times ten. I’ve learnt many things through my life thus far and one that came simultaneously( at both the perfect time and whilst being far to late) as the realisation of how my ego is so serious that it makes itself look silly: by identifying with my knowledge I was doing myself a great disservice. Any time I created a strict detention of what something was I lost the potential to update any of this information. I was running at version 2.0 of myself to the detriment of the fact that here was a 2.5. I had convinced myself that being wrong or incorrect about something somehow made me stupid or vulnerable or silly, when infact all strength comes from my ability to adapt. Even if I strongly believe that A is A and B is B, and lord knows I have. I swore down A was A and B was B, my inability to update my knowledge meant that when it turned out A was appearing to me like it was A when in fact it was B, not only have I held onto this useless piece of knowledge and tried to apply it as fact to my life but I had wasted valuable time and energy in the pursuit of limiting my knowledge for the sake of being ‘right’. Hearing that I had limited time and energy from Dandapandi was an amazing experience because, honestly, second I saw his picture. I had identified with “my knowledge” and seen this stereotypical- *insert name for foreign feeling religion*- monk- In cliché clothes and wasn’t going to watch because obviously I had read the Bhagavad Gita man, what could this snake oil salesman sell me ?. I thought I pressed play by accident. Wow. From my understanding, there are defiantly things more able to do certain things better than I can. Understanding how little things I can actually do, and how many of the things I do that I’m a subject of rather than a subject to, how so many events have to of happened or not happened to make the entire universe be at this state at this time and realising in that that I am event triggering in the future of this moment, that I have been triggered in the moment by a previous event that created my ability to even comprehend the fact I’m in a moment. I am observing the change and assigning labels to it, seeing myself as separate entity when I am the experience having the experience. From my observation there is so much intelligence in everything and I can only comprehend my particular view point from a frequency which is a tiny proportion of what people have come to use their particular vision to discover that that is only a tinny percentage of what exists within the potential of our tiny minds. If you look at beehives they are perfect for their purpose, although they wouldn’t make it particularly well in the corporate world, in terms of their unbelievably important job in our ecosystem they are the best. People speak of intelligent design as if it is some mystical process applied theoretically, it is phenomena you can see it every time you leave the house- the design itself is intelligent: who cares about its creator, if your looking for examples of a miracle look in the mirror. If your looking for signs of intelligence look at your clothes, human intelligence only counts for the tiny bit in which we are useful, as every aspect is in its unique ways, the transformation of energy is intelligent, our intelligence is a product of that transformation and a culmination of many transformations from the intelligence which transforms. Dandapandi taught me that we have a limited amount of time and energy. Physics taught me energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can be transformed. I have observed that I am not the most powerful thing in the universe. I tried to stop the tides. Literally and metaphorically, so many times- despite the fact I tried so hard, life swept me away or the waves, despite my scariest voice, disobeyed me and touched my toes. I had observed people far more intelligent than me, people who cured diseases or could remember their times tables and I had seen nature, despite our entire species best laid plans make us hide in our houses in fear of our very existence. I was powerless over anything more than the intentions behind my thoughts, so many things I’ve done thinking would have one result that had another- no matter how I thought it was, it was what it was. Sorry, back to Dandapandi. So limited time, limited energy became.... limited time being energy, experiencing energy in this certain way and with this certain framework. My ‘intelligent’ human experience is no more than a honeybees, it is just a part of a system that is much larger than itself, which it is serving in its actions, which lasts for the amount of time required for a plan There is no reason for me to be part of, infact if I had to deal with my own task of being a human whilst being in charge of the wind and rain, we’d probably cease to exist pretty rapidly. And I thought. “Thank fuck I’m just a subject to my environment, no worries, will drop out and not bother, I have no responsibilities”. The universe is defiantly psychopathic. We are just bits of energy to facilitate bits of energy, it is the duality of our human experience of right and wrong which creates the pain of the human experience. The hurricane didn’t give a fuck about you house, it wasn’t aware of your house, much we aren’t aware of the experience of the tiny bugs we stamp on all day. the universe will turn your body to dust so that the energy can be transformed into something which serves that higher purpose better. Physics taught me that energy cannot be created or destroyed. I have no idea where it came from but I know that everything is made of it and always has been, materials just get rendered and re rendered and changed. You have existed for eternity and are eternal, I just identified with my knowledge (my body, my beliefs, my mind, my relationship) rather than my ignorance (the entire rest of the universe). I have identified as being the expression of the energy rather than as the energy its self. The energy I am made of cannot be created or destroyed. I am not my body or my mind, I am the thing which has a body and a mind, I am the universe experience this particular expression of itself for the purpose of itself. Destruction is counter creation, it’s the transfer of something being a solid to being fragmented to being solid again. Knowing that there is something more intelligent than me which not only conceived me but maintains me on every level, there must be a purpose. The universe makes extinct that which is obsolete. Anyone want to BBM me? What’s bbm? Ask Siri. Therefore I have a task, a point - and I feel it. I feel it in poetry, I feel it when I help someone keep their cool. It’s natural, I see it in the artists I admire, the mechanic who’s mind boggles mine with their skill, the translator with their purpose. The experience of transforming energy for an entity so large that we can’t comprehend it and don’t need to, it exists because I exist. The guy who was part of the process of a culmination of knowledge and natural resource and experience, had no idea he was making the tooth brush, he just transformed energy from a scenario he found himself in because nature transformed energy into the things from which this transformation of energy was transformed. He’s observing it and oblivious to the millions of decisions and acts of nature which eventually led to the fact he even had teeth to brush. Now their are flavoured toothpastes, not because of humans but through humans transforming energy in the tiny slither of reality that we exist in or have any form of comprehension of. We must have purpose or we wouldn’t exist. The fact I’m a writer comes from the fact I’m not a sales person, not a manager, not a astronaut. That’s not me, not doing what is me makes me useless to the survival of the whole, therefore I should do what I’m meant to do. Knowing That through being what I’m know, I am what I am and by other being what they are and not what I am allows me to be me. Inequality and unevenness of mind is counter creation, we see that reflected in the fact our environmental energy is being transformed by us into something which counters our existence. We aren’t serving a higher purpose, the universe is a tough boss. It will fire us. If to be this particular experience of energy transfer becomes toxic to the larger processes, as in our own medicine- a higher intelligence will cut it out and thus far the universe seems to still exist. The choice then always comes back to the question. “To be or not to be”, do I serve my purpose as a human for this benefit of the whole, using my particular skills to improve my own survival, safe in the knowledge that I have to help the survival of others in order to do so and I exist because others do the same. Poetry 1. Perhaps My time Be better spent Forgetting the Unreturned in lent Nor predicting The way things shall be Clearing mind, Tranquil pools Not lost to futures simmer The now fogged by own steam 2. Perhaps When greatest plans Slapped down In loving grace Upon realising That despite our Greatest leaps of fate Gravity thus far Keeps us in our place. And in either our greatest victory Or bested: late to the plate Still the tears Despite our greatest effort drop from our face. 3. Perhaps What encapsulates My powerlessness the most Is when I'm wondering Where the fuck is the post. 4. My tooth is chipped What a pleasure to say The darkest cloud Currently throwing shade On today. 5. If given The chance To go back in time Having disregarded evil As a fable, all inherently kind Having had the carpet Pulled from under my feet Id take you word for it Let nightmares remain in sleep 6. Perhaps In consideration Of reincarnation I shall look at the Plastic bin In my kitchen. 7. Perhaps The sun Glum; In its darker moments debates Unaware of The difference it makes Being Only a speck in infinite space. 8. Perhaps The temporary To with I was latched With its own jihad And bounty Having fallen in battle Capitulated by reason Eternal hatched from bare branch Like blossom in warmer season 9. As the curtains open lids close Temporarily blind Discerning a power Greater then eye. 10. Perhaps The kindest Choice one can make Faced with success Twist of fate Is to give somebody The space to choose Between the shade And front page news Perhaps with time You'll understand If given choice Id reverse times hand For its too late for Me to be in the wings With you for whom My young heart still sings. 11. Perhaps As life like a dance My form captured energy Taking step back Revelations Briefly Borrowing my breath Lungs appearing empty Only to hand it back Seconds later Golden sands unwrapped By tides epiphany Realising now All is lent to me 12. Perhaps By whingeing With a glaze or sheen Could be translated As winning When smudges glisten clean. 13. Perhaps If the pain in my mind And in my jaw Were in accidents forged Having had no perpetrator With no victim to inhabit Id be more tolerant Of the word faggot. 14. Perhaps If ruffled feathers Fell to make quills Which Penned poems Rather than threats Id have more freedom And many less regrets. 15. Perhaps when next looking at the stars or the sea I'll recall The difference in A miracle Or a coincidence Lays entirely in me. 16. Perhaps When the me Reduced In self importance Regarding the doing Having been As a Culmative Of circumstances done. In fascination: Watching as my strings Take pen from right to left Gods work in front of: me - a witness masquerading as lead Wondering as well what On earth I have just read. 17. My attention Briefly thoughtless As inhale spills As warmth in chills Radiates Me and moment Briefly aware Of simultaneous fates The exhale comes And thy be done Taking form Realising: Sum of son Same as sun. 18. Given A fresh slate Having outgrown The home estate Being given wisdom First life’s mistake Having reincarnated In similar stature and sort Finding fault in first thought How clever they sounded Leaps instead of steps Wondering what indeed Will come next 19. Perhaps Having taken it To the superlative On success cliff Only to see the joy In plunging down Into the Clearlake bellow Having hit the icy waters The air, trailing bubbles Seeing the sky above Making a mad dash To the surface The air fills my lungs Asking myself what can be done From the shore, Drying sand I seek the peak Wondering If the view from the edge Is as good as my memoirs said 20. The voices Put me on a pedestal Teetering on the see saws Whispering contradictions Unbalanced me, critiqued by four. 21. Perhaps Next time When weaponing wait Mimicking a High roller on cheap stakes Make sure your target doesn’t stand at the peaks Their Dancing Dislodging stones To the sling shots bellow 22. Perhaps When sirens First called Homer to the rocks Their songs, Honest trifles Centuries Betraying banqo In deepest consequence Or Teds deception Incarcerating Edward In an asylum In the stories yet to be told Maybe wisdom is gained from action Not in the difference between young and old 23. Having My theory With all its Soften edges A decade of weather Forging heavenly clouds Razor sharp As Juliet leaning into Romeo Falling side by side As eyes narrows Youth fairy tails succumbs To experience Vibrant tones now duller grey My knight escapes Becoming indistinguishable from the night whence they came.