• Bodhisattvacharyavatara
    • Introduction
    • Chapter 1
    • Chapter 2
    • Chapter 3
    • Chapter 4
    • Chapter 5
    • Chapter 6
    • Chapter 7
    • Chapter 8
    • Chapter 9
    • Chapter 10
  • collected works
    • 25th August 1981 – count Up
    • askance From Hell
    • Batman
    • The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford
    • Bob 1995-2012
    • Edward Hopper: Poems at an Exhibition
    • David Bowie Movements in Suite Major
    • Eglinton Hill
    • FLOORBOARDS
    • Granada
    • in and out / the Avebury stones / can’t seem to get / a signal …
    • Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters]
    • Miller’s Batman
    • mum
    • nan
    • Portsmouth – Southsea
    • Spring Warwick breezes / over Bacharach fieldwork and boroughs with / the occasional shift and chirp of David / in the pastel-long morning of the sixties
    • through the crash
  • index
    • #A-E see!
    • F–K, wha’ th’
    • L-P 33 1/3 rpm
    • Q-T pie
    • U-Z together forever
  • me
  • others
    • William Carlos Williams
  • poemics
  • poeviews
  • teaching matters
  • wormholes

mlewisredford

~ may the Supreme and Precious Jewel Bodhichitta take birth where it has not yet done so …

mlewisredford

Tag Archives: 2005

someone called Frank

23 Sunday Mar 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

1970, 2005, 3*, cars, childhood, divorce, emergence, Ford Cortina, green, Iron Man, liquorice, Mum, music, Simon & Garfunkel, sound, the Shadows, vinyl, wood

 

 

 

                           someone called Frank

                           metallic junglegreen Ford
                                Cortina mark II

                           shiny squeaky record covers
                           ‘slint’ the teeth when
                           the fingernails touch
                           but the needle fits onto the vinyl
                           like liquorice

                           the Shadows Bridge Over
                           Troubled Waters in stereo:
                           big wooden speakers crackling

 

ironman #27

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

cars & childhood & sound wormhole: tag cloud poem IV – C
divorce & green wormhole: night time
emergence wormhole: the sounds the difficulty and the long long strands of liquorice
Mum wormhole: existence
music wormhole: … walking down the street
wood wormhole: need

 

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night time

22 Saturday Mar 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

1967, 2005, 3*, childhood, divorce, green, haiku, leaves, life, night

 

 

 

                                                   night time

                            rush mats bamboo screens
                     and the large green leaves it was
                       all going very wrong

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

1967 wormhole: tag cloud poem I – numbers
childhood wormhole: tag cloud poem IV – C
dvorce wormhole: sometimes
green wormhole: Hever
haiku(esque) wormhole: Love Me Do
leaves wormhole: the Avengers
life wormhole: sunny day
night wormhole: star / through the kitchen / window

 

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wakey wakey / time to get up

23 Sunday Sep 2012

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

2005, 2006, 2012, 8*, acceptance, breathing, childhood, divorce, dream, Eglinton Hill, Genesta Road, Geshe Kelsang, growth, identity, LamRim, lifetimes, love, Manjushri, meditation, Mum, muse, night, speech, stone, superhero, superpower, tv

 

 

 

                                                                      wakey wakey
                                                                      time to get up

 

                                              I

                                   I left my eight year old
                                   in Eglinton Hill*
                                   he wandered the rooms
                                   looking for Daddy

                                   he wasn’t ready to leave
                                   when we all left
                                   ‘I’m sure he’s here somewhere …
                                    didn’t see him … look again’

                                   I looked for meaning instead
                                   in Genesta Road**
                                   while he gazed sideways
                                   into rooms

                                   ‘Mum found me wandering one night
                                    I stayed and watched tv with her’
                                   up late at night finding possibility
                                   after lifetime finding thought

                                   I roamed superhero worlds
                                   and wore superhero stances
                                   against the invisible enemy
                                   wherever he appeared

                                   I found new superpowers
                                   distilled from the immediate
                                   music poetry art religion
                                   ingenious hope to salve the day

                                   but my battles never happened
                                   my victories never came
                                   the whale continued gliding past
                                   ‘… maybe look upstairs again’

                                   my face was always masked
                                   my self was never found
                                   I was haunted by an eight year old
                                   and Eglinton Hill

                                   go back home and find him
                                   take him by the hand
                                   c’mon boy let’s go outside
                                   show me what you found

                                              II

                                   when moments are bland
                                   I sit in the dark
                                   and look to find
                                   what everyone has missed

                                   when I abstract out
                                   I can trip and skip
                                   with a hundred ideas
                                   that hang together

                                   so well
                                   they ‘get’ the world
                                   more than ‘being’ the world
                                   I prefer them

                                   they take me on a groove
                                   they weave me in a tapestry
                                   always slightly aslant
                                   always slightly after

                                   but never where I am
                                   averse to where I am
                                   nothing bad nothing evil
                                   nothingness

                                   these take-me-aways
                                   these dark glowing colours
                                   these resolved phrasings
                                   building the relief

                                   of a Perfect Human Rebirth
                                   before Death takes it away
                                   before Habit seals it in amber
                                   before Fame echoes away

                                   this emptiness of my life
                                   was it produced by my lives
                                   or is it the breath I have held
                                   for too long

                                              III

                                   and here I sit in meditation
                                   with thoughts like Woodstock
                                   proliferating
                                   everywhere

                                              IV

                                                              dream 240606

                                              back at the Priory***
                                moved on in twenty years
                                              still lots of people
                                              large open rooms
                                pass Geshe-la**** in the corridor
                we exchange ‘hallo’ we recognise each other nothing awkward
                                              he is in robes
                but as I turn to look back
                                he is in tweeds and looking for something
                he is involved in something else

                                              I am in a room
                                              there is menace danger
                                a demon
                a sort of old god appears in the room
                                it is short but finely built an air of power
                                with a stone mask over its face
                and a stone club stood on the floor
                                hands resting on it relaxed
                                he is looking at me
                                              slightly sideways
                                I am going to have to face it
                                              here in the room
                we engage in a Captain Kirk-type battle
                                              I am on top
                and I am hitting the demon repeatedly
                                in the face
                                it is a girl’s face
                as I hit the demon it loses its appearance
                                and becomes a girl
                when I have beaten the demon out
                                I cradle the girl
                                I love her
                                I have saved her
                                              I pick her up
                I will heal her
                                              I will care for her
                                gently

 

 

 

______________________________________________________
* In 1961 my brother was born, in 1962 my grandmother lost her husband, in 1963 we all moved into a house on Eglinton Hill.
** When I was eight my father just left the family and left my mother and grandmother to bring us up. In 1971 we moved to a smaller house in Genesta Road
*** Priory – Conishead Priory, known as Manjushri Institute, in Cumbria on the shores of Morecambe Bay. A Buddhist college; lived there 1983-1984.
**** Geshe-la – affectionate honorific used for the teacher, Geshe Kelsang Gyatso. I moved from the Priory to begin my career twenty years previous to this dream.

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

acceptance wormhole: I didn’t see it coming
breathing wormhole: becoming old
divorce wormhole: Grandad / Redford
dream wormhole: Dr Strange #6-13
childhood wormhole: “bring in as many / different kinds of leaf / as you can find”
Eglinton Hill wormhole: from my childhood
Genesta Road wormhole: 1976
identity wormhole: mirror
lifetimes wormhole: brave new world?
love wormhole: what …
meditation wormhole: … I think that / just about wraps / things up
Mum wormhole: oh
muse wormhole: silence
night wormhole: only
speech wormhole: ”whatdoyouwantmylove…’ on the train …’
stone wormhole: there
superhero wormhole: Woolwich Central – / making life better II
tv wormhole: 1969
superpower wormhole: and no one would know

 

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door ajar

27 Friday Apr 2012

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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Tags

'scape, 2005, 4*, bedroom, combe end, doors, material, mirror

 

 

 

                                   door ajar

                      one dressing gown hanging
                                   check all cluttered up

                      another dressing gown big
                                   collar folded back

                      ninety degrees to the door
                                   a hang of material

                      with folds like plats caught
                                   in the landing light

                      and then a long
                                   vertical mirror

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–
bedroom & combe end wormholes: window open
doors wormhole: the figure “46” / in frosted glass
mirror wormhole: quiet

 

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9:05

24 Tuesday Apr 2012

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

'scape, 2005, 5*, clock, combe end, conservatory, moon, night, time, writing

 

 

 

                                                                      9:05

the clock actually chimes at five minutes past the quarter-hour.   Sitting in the dark conservatory looking for a poem, I cannot find one.   I sit back and a bar of moonlight is across the page – ah, nine o’clock.

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

combe end wormhole: like Basho
conservatory wormhole: when things fall apart
moon & night wormholes: Let’s Go
time wormhole: grain
writing wormhole: ‘writing creatively …’

 

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when things fall apart

24 Tuesday Apr 2012

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

'scape, 2005, 5*, breakdown, clouds, combe end, conservatory, grey, morning, Pema Chödrön, pigeons, sky, squirrel, trees

 

 

 

                                when things fall apart

                in the conservatory
                at 6:40 am

                while the pigeon
                called

                a single squirrel
                made its way

                jumpily and definitely
                twenty feet up through

                the tangle of branches
                in the new grey light

                of the dark clouds

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

clouds wormhole: washing up
combe end wormhole: open window
conservatory wormhole: ”hmm …’ …’
grey & sky & trees wormhole: driving
morning wormhole: late morning / Saturday

 

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… Mark; remember …

"... the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful; it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe to find ashes." ~ Annie Dillard

pages coagulating like yogurt

  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara
    • Chapter 1
    • Chapter 10
    • Chapter 2
    • Chapter 3
    • Chapter 4
    • Chapter 5
    • Chapter 6
    • Chapter 7
    • Chapter 8
    • Chapter 9
    • Introduction
  • collected works
    • 25th August 1981 – count Up
    • askance From Hell
    • Batman
    • Bob 1995-2012
    • David Bowie Movements in Suite Major
    • Edward Hopper: Poems at an Exhibition
    • Eglinton Hill
    • FLOORBOARDS
    • Granada
    • in and out / the Avebury stones / can’t seem to get / a signal …
    • Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters]
    • Miller’s Batman
    • mum
    • nan
    • Portsmouth – Southsea
    • Spring Warwick breezes / over Bacharach fieldwork and boroughs with / the occasional shift and chirp of David / in the pastel-long morning of the sixties
    • The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford
    • through the crash
  • index
    • #A-E see!
    • F–K, wha’ th’
    • L-P 33 1/3 rpm
    • Q-T pie
    • U-Z together forever
  • me
  • others
  • poemics
  • poeviews
  • teaching matters
  • William Carlos Williams
  • wormholes

recent leaks …

  • ‘the practice …’
  • under the blue and blue sky
  • sweet chestnut
  • ‘she shook the sweets …’
  • YOUNG WOMAN AT A WINDOW by William Carlos Williams
  • meanwhile
  • a far grander / Sangha
  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara: Chapter VII, Joyous Effort – verse 8; reflectionary
  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara: Chapter VII, Joyous Effort – verse 7; reflectionary
  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara: Chapter VII, Joyous Effort – verse 6; reflectionary & verses 3-6 embroidery

Uncanny Tops

  • Moebius strip
  • me
  • YOUNG WOMAN AT A WINDOW by William Carlos Williams
  • 'I can write ...'
  • meanwhile
  • like butterflies on / buddleia
  • covert being
  • 'hello old friend ...'
  • start where you are I
  • others

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tag skyline

'scape 2* 3* 4* 5* 6* 7* 8* 20th century 1967 1979 1980 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 2015 2016 2017 2018 2019 acceptance afternoon air Allen Ginsberg anxiety architecture arm in arm attention awareness Batman beach beauty bedroom being birds birdsong black blue Bodhisattvacharyavatara books Bowie branches breakdown breathing breeze brown Buddha buildings career Carol cars change child childhood children city clouds coffee shop colour combe end comics communication compassion compromise crane creativity curtains dancing dark death distraction divorce doing doors dream Dr Strange earth echo Edward Hopper Eglinton Hill emergence emptiness evening eyes faces family father feet field floorboards garden Genesta Road girl giving glass gold grass green grey growth haiku hair hands Have hedge hill hills history holiday hope horizon house houses identity kitchen leaf leaves lemon letting go life lifetimes light lime listening living London looking lost love management managerialism mauve meaning mind mist moon morning mother mouth movement Mum muse music night notice open openness orange others park passing pavement people performance management pink Plumstead poetry pointlessness politics portrait posture power practice professionalism purple purpose quiet rain reaching reading realisation reality red requires chewing river roads roof rooftops samsara sea searching seeing settling shadow shops silence silhouette silver sitting sky skyline sleep smell smile snow society sound space speech step stone streetlight streets sun sunlight superhero table talking talking to myself teaching teaching craft Thames thinking thought time train travelling trees true nature university voices walking walls water waves white William Carlos Williams wind windows wood Woolwich words work world writing years yellow zazen

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