Simon Heathcote

Photo by Dave Robinson on Unsplash

The day is narrow & the street is clean.
I have divested myself of personas
& speak only to the sun.

That’s what awareness means —
to swivel & leave all objects
resting on the fringes, quite at ease.

Pay attention to the one thing
until after many moons & the
ready distilling of concentration

there is nothing left but you two.
Even the moon is in abeyance.
Finally, you see with rabid clarity

perhaps even a little laugh that
accompanies the Eureka! moment
God is no thing and never was.

Copyright Simon Heathcote

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Photo by Artem Maltsev on Unsplash

You took an idea &
sowed it across a blighted field.
Could they comprehend
the ground itself was poisoned?
Most were clueless.
So few in fact you knew
you could rely on ignorance —
how man so easily turns on his fellow.
The sower simply put
more seeds down
to generate divison
hid reality underground
deep where humans rarely look —
within the heart itself.
Now half the world is dying
yet you convinced the fool —
legions of them — to imagine
it was caused by something else.
How clever!

Copyright Simon Heathcote

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Photo by Andreas Wagner on Unsplash

There is a path most follow
to enhance themselves at the
expense of others.
Oh! subtlest of traps —
I gave up ‘success’ for freedom
to travel only by tide
abandoning both artifice & inflation.
Few know me.
I live beyond the hour
demands of time or others.
This is the sole freedom —
to know even the treasured
white chapel high on the
escarpment is still in the dreaming.
My vow is to travel only
where ideas of success
& failure never follow.

Copyright Simon Heathcote

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Photo by Josh Hild on Unsplash

Amid the noise
of the world
I move into quiet.

I fought for long
enough — now’s time
to go beyond

to where a bell tolls
somewhere in the
Heavens — soundless
& approving.

In the final event
even the cry
of righteousness
has no home.

Two portals exist
side by…

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Words are forming slowly
yet tumble quickly from her mouth.
I remember being two myself.

How was it I understood all
they were saying
but could never make myself heard?

Each scene was bewilderment —
every stanza failed.
I recall the outrage even now.

To sit at the window alone
was solace —
a silent slipping into
the hum of the world.

Copyright Simon Heathcote

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Photo by Sanika V on Unsplash

‘A nightingale falls in love with the rose.
The whole love affair begins with just
one look from God.’
Yunus Emre

Oh! Sufferer of the love dream
Do you not know that Venus &
Neptune conspired to seduce
& render your search obsolete?
For years, I chased both goddess
& dream until the clouds cleared
& pain alone was my great friend
as I languished in some culvert
perilously close to death.
Mercy found me when
I was still a continent
green & undiscovered -
a stranger to myself — a simple child
innocent & longing.
Pity came just in time & said
‘It’s all right — your seeking was only love
confused by mind’ — a fantasy
when I needed boots on the ground.
I am old now but clear-eyed.
Love’s dream is reduced to whispers.

Copyright Simon Heathcote

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Simon Heathcote

Simon Heathcote

Psychotherapist writing on the human journey for some; irreverently for others; and poetry for myself; former newspaper editor. Heathcosim@aol.com