Poems, Posts, Uncategorized

Letting Go..


Pick up a stone and hold it in a clenched fist;
There are 2 ways to let it go;
You can turn your fist palm down and let it go so it drops to the ground;
Or you can turn your fist palm upwards and unclench letting it rest in the palm of your hand.

People that have been hurt emotionally,
Sometimes say they are going to be Buddhist;
And practice ‘non-attachment’ so they don’t get hurt again;
This is not the Buddhist approach;
In fact this is aversion and will bring the same pain as desire.

To develop an intelligent heart, you unclench yet embrace;
Engage fully with the wisdom that you cannot own or possess;
Enjoy and love but be able to let it go;
All things will pass and return to the source;
That is the ‘way’ of the universe.

Non attachment is the wisdom of impermanence;
Everything is on fire, enjoy the heat and beauty;
Then let it turn to ash.
To hold on to fire is suffering and will help no-one;
Soon enough you too will be ash.

If it didn’t burn, if were not fragile;
There would be no beauty, no movement, no time;
No youth, no ageing, no learning, no experience;
No point in having life.

Happiness and suffering create each other;
All things will pass,
To understand this is wisdom;
And allows you to love and engage freely;
Then you do not have to try and clench on the stone – or throw it away.

By Steve Rowe

Poems, Uncategorized

Mass Slaughter


I have been kept in prison;
Forced to take drugs,
Forced to have sex;
And my children were slaughtered.

When I become useless to my captors;
I too will be killed.
The terrorists have no compassion,
They say everything is for the ‘greater good’.

Their leaders manipulate them,
They are constantly taught to have no compassion for me;
If they want to be fed,
They must torture and kill me and my babies.

The mass slaughter should end;
One day compassion and kindness should rule,
Respect and equality for all should be normal;
But I fear that day is a long way off;
And the end to my torture and imprisonment nears with my death.

Because I am cow.

Poems, Uncategorized

Inside Out


How do you want people to treat you?
Then treat them the same way.
You want respect?
Then give it and earn it.
You want people to see you as a good martial artist?
Then work hard and become one.
You want respect as a martial arts coach?
Then act like one.
You want to be treated as an adult?
Then behave like one.
You want the coach to teach you well?
Then be a good student.

I study people and most can’t see the obvious.
They complain about their treatment,
That they’re not treated with respect,
That they’re not taught properly,
That their students don’t respect them as coaches;

They blame everyone and everything apart from themselves.

They didn’t look inside.

Remember we live from the inside out, not the outside in.

Poems, Uncategorized

I See You

steve pray

I see you….
Because I meditate and practice neigong,
I see you,
I see the savage beast when the mask slips,
Maybe only for a second,
But I see you.

I also see the angel,
When you have pure altruistic compassion,
When you really care;
When your caring is free from fear or pity,
When there is no desire for an end result,
That’s when your angel is looking through your eyes.

My unfettered mind see’s how you wear your body;
The tension borne from fear,
The bowed head, the lazy slouch,
The jutting chin and darting eyes;
The deepest muscles ‘holding’ your darkest fears;
I see you in there.

I also see when your body is free;
When your natural beauty shines through,
When you are tall and straight,
Tension free and shining,
When you float as you move like your angel,
I see you you in there.

You cannot hide from an open mind;
My eyes are not camera’s,
I’m looking from my deepest soul,
It ‘perceives’ until you and I are one,
I become you and then I really ‘see’ what and whom you really are.

I see you….


Poems, Uncategorized

A Walk In The Woods


Today I went for a walk,
Well, actually a shuffle;
The ground was uneven,
With 14 surgeries on my legs,
I can barely move.

Everyone passed me by,
But I had the advantage;
I could see everything they missed,
I could hear what they didn’t,
I could smell and taste what they couldn’t.

I felt sorry for them;
I had constant pain to let me know, That I was alive;
I was grateful to walk,
Grateful to be alive.

I hadn’t smelled the earth for years,
The moisture from the rain and river on my skin and tongue;
The woody smell from both growing and rotting wood;
They all spoke to me.

Sometimes a disability is an advantage.
It holds you in the present;
It sharpens your senses,
And reminds you how lucky you are to still be here;
Whilst the rest of the world walks by distracted.


Poems, Uncategorized

The Eyes Of The Dead

green man

The first shovel full of earth hit the lid of my coffin;
My dead eyes stared at the other side;
So that was it, another vehicle worn out:
And what had I done?

We all know we’re going to die;
But we push it to the back of our mind;
And behave like we’re going to live forever;
But each day leads us onwards;
To that one inevitable end.

Another sod hits the coffin lid;
My body has expired;
Because I’m not ‘me’ anymore;
I see everything in a different light;
My perspective has already grown.

In the back of my mind I always knew,
That the purpose of life was to live;
That ‘being human’ was a challenge:
That politics causes disconnection;
And mental stillness joins everything up.

And now everything was still;
As the earth piled up above me;
My mind had clarity;
Lying in the heart of the earth;
As my body rots and my thoughts dissipate:
What was I going to take with me?

Nothing. No-thing. I was entering No-thing-ness;
But in meditation I had already been there;
I was prepared to let go.
There was no-thing left to carry;
No-thing left to resolve;
I had already made myself free within life.

I had left a legacy, one hopefully of compassion and peace;
Of how life could be if the perspective of humanity could grow;
Right view and aspiration,
Right speech, behaviour and livelihood;
And right effort, mindfulness and concentration;
Meant there was another way.

Action was the legacy and purpose;
A step towards what could be;
Where evolution could take the world;
And humanity could become Gods;
Instead of being a virus.

Now the shovelling has stopped;
My tomb was completely silent;
Surrounded by the Earth so many stand on;
Yet so few choose to acknowledge;
Let alone respect.

Here is the truth, each person’s inevitable end;
Silence, the body’s conversion to universal energy;
Purpose fulfilled, because despite what everyone tells you;
The purpose of life is to live.
No-thing left to carry with you.

Poems, Uncategorized

A Golden Cage Is Still A Cage

3 monkeys

A Golden cage is still a cage…
If you are an adult,
And someone else tells you what you can and can’t do,
What you can and can’t wear,
Where you can go and who with,
You are a prisoner.

If you have to ask their ‘permission’ to do anything,
When I hear ‘I’d love to go/do/wear that, but my wife/husband/partner won’t let me’,
Or ‘I’ll have to ask the ‘boss’,
All I hear is ‘I am a prisoner and am too scared to free myself’.
There are no bars on their cage and yet their fear is their prison.

We all have priorities and can’t always do what we want,
But who set those priorities?
Who makes the decisions?
Was it a discussion of equals and a mutual decision?
Or did you just yield because you feared the consequences?

Self worth and individual freedom are important.
Many people are victims by their own design.
They are too weak to stand up for their rights,
And as a consequence enslave themselves.
They make themselves a victim,
And make their partner an abuser.

Any good partnership is one of equal respect,
Of mutual support for whatever each partner wants to become,
Where both partners get to fulfil their life’s dream,
And each one enjoys the others growth and success,
Otherwise one is in a cage,
Either of their own making or one of their partner,
Either way it is self abuse or the bullying of a partner,
And wrong.

By Steve Rowe