(“Citadel of Light Merit Badge”, 2016, original pen and ink)
Battle For Your Mind
We live in a time of upheaval and change,
Challenge and war,
But the biggest battle
Is what some call “jihad”
An internal struggle of light and dark
As a soul makes their way along the path.
But along with the esoteric jihad
There is the exoteric, external struggle for your soul,
And battle for your mind,
A battle between the Death-eaters
And the Life-givers.
In this battle of temptation
Desertion is always an option,
And as many times as we may vacillate
What matters most is where we finally settle.
And in an infinite universe
On a timeline of eternity,
As Led Zeppelin said,
You can always change the road you’re on.
But once we know how it will end
Then the momentary ups and downs
Cannot confuse and distract us.
This is the Path of Seeing
The path of no return
The warrior path
In the battle for your mind.
(9/16/25)
(“I of the Beholder”, 2014, original pen and ink)
My Mind
My mind is a labyrinth
Organic with its tendrils
Flowing like a stream
Following every which-way gravity takes
Clearly without a mind of its own!
It leads me through dark places
And into the light
Yet it never lingers
As any rise in my emotion
Just causes it drop off a cliff
And then I am soaring again
Or plunging as the case may be
It matters not if it is day or night
Above or below ground, in fact
I’m not sure anything matters on its twisted way
But I can’t fault this fickle friend
It doesn’t really mean me harm
As it pushes my buttons and pulls my chain
I know, like an exuberant child or pup,
It just wants to show me what it sees with love.
(9/6/25)
(“In the Beginning There Was the Word and the Word Was Good”, 2019, original pen and ink)
The All Good, The All Inclusive
Under the umbrella of relative truth
Is the absolute truth
That despite appearances
It’s all good.
Everything has its place
In a conscious universe
Where responsiveness
Is the prime directive.
Huh? I hear you ask.
Everything happens as it is
To perfectly match our needs.
All religions, philosophies, mythologies and lifestyles
Meeting the need of whoever finds it attractive.
This doesn’t mean it’s relatively good,
As clearly some styles and choices are bad,
It means it’s absolutely good
Simply because it’s absolutely inclusive.
Because the definition of the Universe
Of Life itself
Includes everything.
(9/2/25)
(“Contagion III”, 2020, original pen and ink and oil)
Dr Fauci
In the infallible world of cause and effect
Every action has its reaction
And to every sane person
Beyond the age of about ten
This is simply a given.
What is less clear is when, how and where
These reactions will manifest.
So as time passes and nothing seems to happen
Those responsible, and those effected
Begin to wonder if they ever will.
Enter stage Left, Dr Fauci,
The best thing since sliced bread and mastermind
Of not only gain of function research
But also the official reaction and imposition
To the result of this research gone wrong.
Will Fauci ever face the consequence
Of the hundreds of millions killed by his virus,
And even greater numbers killed by the vax?
Not likely in this life, but surely Hell awaits,
Ever patient, ever present, at the very bottom.
(8/23/25)
(“Citadel of Light Merit Badge”, 2016, original pen and ink)
The Great Debate
The great debate in buddhism
Specifically in ancient Tibet,
Was between the sudden and gradualist schools.
Even though the event is apocryphal
And never actually happened,
It’s a good and relevant story
Because it is the debate that happens to this day
Between students and teachers,
Dharma brothers and sisters
And within our own heart,
Because it concerns the nature of actual enlightenment.
You see,
The two schools view and conceive
The nature of reality,
And thus nature of ourselves,
Fundamentally differently.
The gradual school says life is like a dream
While the sudden school says it is a dream.
Disregard for a moment
The popular row row row your boat song
Which somehow inexplicably
Gave us all in the West
The sudden school lesson,
The vast majority of spiritual aspirants
Are of the gradual path
While only the very few are sudden types.
But the bottom line
Is that everyone is a gradual path type
Until they are a sudden enlightenment type.
(8/11/25)
(“Honeybee on Apple Blossom”, 2020, original pen and ink)
Homing Bees
Up before dawn
To bring home the bees,
Last evening’s swarm
So full and feisty,
And nestled in
Their new hive
They seem contented
Distracted and without concern
That in the end
They have only
Travelled a few feet
From their old home.
(7/3/25)
Of course, a clown
is always clowning
as poets paint their write --
before with pen and ink
dip we nibs wells of performance
transforming dark ink
to colorful spectacle in showtime
spot of light -- like the pancake
our many harlequins,
like Arora, a rainbow
after cloudburst
real tears or daisy squirt?
we apply our big-top makeup
to cover-up and hide
otherwise unmanageable crowds
of deeply incised hurt --
Every step made with anticipation,
Words written with hope ,
Dreams dreamt under the stars ,
Words articulated with care .
The pen and ink all witnesses,
The paper the great bearer of truth,
The walls saw in silence -
As the future got laid on white paper.
Dreaming is good ,
Having hope is sweet,
Plans make the future seen ,
But failure comes unannounced
I am a purple prisoner of poetry
For when I can’t write woe is me
Darkens my sky the flowetry
Enriches my life the soul of me
Some do drugs roll with me
I just do hugs go with me
Grasping the love of a sheet
Of paper, pen and ink is peace
Muse is a turquoise tool guides me
Ideas are precious jewels inside me
It’s an affliction of discovery
A kind of mission red recovery
Righting what is wrong you see
Writing poems sonnets songs to sing
Some are like the ivory breeze
Others crash into onyx dead sea
One hopes to be indigo inspiring
To tickle brain cells cherry firing
To leave readers denim desiring
Or perhaps even enjoying inquiring
In the jail of a black bipolar mind
Where hell is back and forth in time
Words can be a key or lemon lock in crime
Can be of forms free or form that rhymes
Needing readers to read gives me a high
Hoping that you see a message from divine
Did they plan it all, to write it all, of their inner most feelings and thoughts.
l think they did. just like their poetry, they couldn't help them selves.
l had visions of them today, sitting at their writing desk, or hurriedly, at any spare table available. Papers strewn, pen and ink, untidily about the room. l think that's when they wrote the best.
Sad stories, emotional pain, written in every line from what iv learnt so far.
Not much yet, as l never wanted to know before, untill , for some reason, today l took interest.
l thought l knew them, little did l know, l knew nothing about them. shame on me.
But l think now its possible for me to really know their inner most soul, just by their writing.
So l will search the meaning in every one of their written lines, for l really care.
l need to know, l owe it to them, they died in the prime of their lives.
What even more POWERFUL written work could have continued....
from the Bronte Sisters.
The Blank Page
When romantic plots and tales are sought
In the aesthetic and creative mind,
At first unseen within the empty page
Themes of lyrical verse are there to find.
Where an artist creates in pen and ink
A written scene, or speech or tells a tale;
The page, a catalyst, a passive link.
In the reader’s voice the weight of meaning rests
And this artistry the listener hears
As the speaker, as in a play, suggests.
One word and the page is no longer blank,
The word, a pointer to the ensuing theme,
A scene, a speech, a tale told to its end
Or romantic rhyme, an unfinished scheme.
Barry Stebbings
Feb 2025
(“I of the Beholder”, 2014, original pen and ink)
The Zombie Apocalypse
The zombie apocalypse began a long time ago
First as a slow burn
As it spread friend to friend, town to town
A mind virus contagion
Hiding itself within a politically correct smile
But now a full-on raging blaze
Crowning as it leaps and jumps
Rivers and mountains, continents really
In its global conflagration
Spread not by bites and infected saliva
But by bytes of an infecting propaganda
Once called fake news, now fatal news
Fatal to reason, and friendships, peace of mind
And a healthy future
Eating away from inside
Until all that is left is a shell
With yet another zombie hidden safely within
The zombie apocalypse began a long time ago
But only now is it obvious
Its course a long way from run
(11/5/24)
(“Citadel of Light Merit Badge”, 2016, original pen and ink)
The Birth of Light
Spirit and flesh
Two in one
Are the definition
Of beauty itself
For apart they are inert
While together there is dance
And where there is dance
There is joy
And freedom
And the discharge
Of something the mystics
Fondly call light.
(11/4/24)
loose, lacy, white - a flowing blouse
the muse left clues in green-gray eyes
an outlier near the lighthouse-ocean
the seabreeze salty and windswept
foreshadowing of quill and paper
before she knew what to say
before the euphoria of surf
leapt up and touched her fingertips
before she learned to grasp
shadows and shapes, beyond the pale
moon and muted sun
dandelion seeds and towering
sunflowers kissed the blue sky
she’s a mere child, shy and unseen
seeded by the realm of poets
that came before her
the unknowns with journals
antique paper with vanishing ink
the poets with landscapes
that look out of their lighthouses
and see potential
perspicuity, peculiarity
themselves as a child
and open the window
let the little girl get a taste
of ebb and flow, pen and ink
A dedicated and loyal soul
Kind, finding time to edify, seek
Those kindred hearts who fan the hot coals
Into the flames of poetry which leak
Like embers, wild sparks from pen and ink
Standing for truth, for justice invests
In other poets to bring happiness
Above all faithful, candid and fair
Humbly shares his talent possessed
Always taking time to show that he cares
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