Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – tenderness

Tags

2019, 6*, cat, ceiling, children, chords, green, keyboard, London, memory, piano, walnut, World War

                                lost candle holders
                mother of pearl flower centres

                                upright for £6
                polished, tuned just before the war

                                new chords,
                putting the cat up on the keyboard

                                humming interior,
                green-felt arpeggios rising to apogee –

                                sitar strings –
                it cannot last much longer now,

                                turned to the
                walnut altar: evenings of war in London

                                the ceiling
                fell on it more than once with

                                tenderness

 

read the collected work of ‘Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters]‘ as it is published: here
this is an appliquiary to: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – An Old Piano

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

cat wormhole: POEM by William Carlos Williams
green & London wormhole: travel // when I die
piano wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – An Old Piano

 

POEM by William Carlos Williams

Tags

1930, 6*, cat, climbing, kitchen, William Carlos Williams

                      POEM

                As the cat
                climbed over
                the top of

                the jamcloset
                first the right
                forefoot

                carefully
                then the hind
                stepped down

                into the pit of
                the empty
                flowerpot

 

from Poems, 1930-1931: the care; and bother; to be so; meticulous; about no; thing in; particular; that it; becomes; everything; worthwhile; noticing

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

cat wormhole: ‘… and yet I think I am so modest: …’
kitchen wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – The Valley
William Carlos Williams wormhole: THE ATTIC WHICH IS DESIRE: by William Carlos Williams

 

on / that / day

Tags

2019, 6*, arms, bread, breeze, brows, cake, chickens, Darmstadt, dog, ears, elderflower, family, feet, friends, happening, harps, Jon, Krishna, marriage, people, pine-cones, salad, Sara, serviettes, sunlight, trees

                                on
                                that
                                                day

                when the breeze was high in the trees and the sunlight
                occasional across pebble paviours

                when the harps cried ‘hallelujah!’
                and the puppy’s brows drew ears to attention of
                                chickens!

                when the cake was spread before the salad as only Krishna would have liked                
                and families multiplied like fanned serviettes

                and friends came together like classmates
                and peoples’ feet jumped one way, their arms waving the other,

                Jon and Sara pulled the bread and divined pinecones and elderflowers
                when things really had
                                come together beautifully

 

Jon and Sara married a couple of weeks earlier, but we celebrated later all together

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

breeze wormhole: at Kreukenhof
dog wormhole: 10/22 by William Carlos Williams
family wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – An Old Piano
feet wormhole: waiting to be heard
Jon wormhole: early // Minoan & Mycenaean Exhibitions in the British Museum – diptych
people wormhole: boiled spangle with soft centre
trees wormhole: travel // when I die

 

poessay XI – piquant love

Tags

2019, 6*, arch, cause and conditionality, compromise, crane, doing, identity, intuition, knowledge, letting go, life, love, not knowing, obscuration, opportunity, others, poessay, scandal, self, shadow, sitting, thought, writing

poessay XI –

                lookitallathisabouttheplace –
                both the obscuration and the opportunity difficult
                either to see or to take:

                                I don’t know what to do –
                                inject into causality
                                project over condition (whatever

                                I’m sure that’s not the way to do) –
                                I can only know what I intuit
                                usually de-spite “I don’t know

                                but will step in line
                                if you let me join the gang”
                                best served unnoticeable

                                but not really
                                me no matter how deep the cover;
                                so back to the hunch –

                                crane reaching from the crumbling arch –
                                written up on giddy foolscap
                                (given half the chance, or notice)

                                but this is not me either
                                just a more clever ‘I don’t know’;
                                than all the others who don’t know at all

                                or know by some rote too lazy
                                or compromised to know (what I
                                might know) or those who

                                say they know holding me deficient
                                that I don’t behave as they know
                                (compromised to behold), or then

                                there are those who seem to know
                                despite the prevalence and norm all about
                                from whom I absorb

                                through my very xylem
                                and then heavy-shadow them all about
                                but they don’t know either

                                just more mystically or glamorously so
                                until the scandal;
                                so don’t try to know at all

                                because any of this knowing
                                is just a whorl somewhere
                                within cascading causality

                                making sure my specious self;
                                just let the self go
                this knower, this knower so much better and deeper than anyone else who does not even know what is to be known,                

                                let it all go
                                and sit with the not-knowing,
                                watching all the fluidity with

                                                                                                piquant love

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

compromise wormhole: looking for the right exit
crane & doing & identity & thought & writing wormhole: travel // when I die
knowledge wormhole: Dulwich College, London, 1871
letting go wormhole: at Kreukenhof
life wormhole: psssssh
love wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – The Valley
others wormhole: quietly in my quiet house
shadow wormhole: breakfast
sitting wormhole: – creak —

 

– creak —

Tags

2019, 6*, church, dome, echo, hoping, kleshas, listening, mind, passing, quiet, sitting, sound, talking, time

                                                sitting
                in St. Ludwigskirche again
                      five years on

                                                hoping
                for the quiet of mind free of overlapping conversations
                      passing like pedestrians

                                                someone
                explained something quietly echoing
                      across the dome

                                                so I listened
                to the German vowels and consonants
                      proliferating everywhere

                                                understanding
                nothing, I sat comfortable in the pew
                       – creak —

 

a return to: St. Ludwigskirche all those years ago

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

church & mind wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – Sky
echo wormhole: breakfast
listening wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – valley
passing wormhole: distance
quiet wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – Rain
sitting wormhole: eyes like petals
sound & time wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – An Old Piano
talking wormhole: ‘don’t look at it …’

 

eyes like petals

Tags

2019, 6*, anger, Arya Lalitavistara, attachment, Bodhi Tree, Buddha, compassion, earth, eyes, government, hate, identity, life, lotus, lust, Mara, orbit, power, self-grasping, sitting, stillness, suffering

                the variety of grotesquery
                with which beings grasp their self

                the various grips of power
                through summits of council

                and various arrays of stake and brandishment
                appear as the armies of Mara,

                the thirty two ways of seducing
                that would fill life to the full

                over both his shoulders
                while sat under the Tree as endlessly still

                as the orbiting earth;
                the Bodhisattva turned his head,

                clean as no motivation at all
                to exposure and scattered diaspora,

                but looked on them all
                with eyes like petals

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

Buddha wormhole: Candaka
compassion wormhole: at Kreukenhof
eyes wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – sooner; / and later
identity & life wormhole: none and all
power wormhole: the Bodhisattva set out / for the Seat of Awakening
sitting wormhole: quietly in my quiet house

 

none and all

Tags

2019, 6*, anxiety, Bodhichitta, Bodhisattva Vow, cause and conditionality, emptiness, identity, illusion, life, sentient beings, stance, wonder, world

                acknowledging ourselves locked
                in cause and conditionality
                whether gangsta or mortgaged

                frees us from all stance – there is
                nothing on which to take a stand –
                what a wonderful world we could

                really live, phantasmagoric,
                with no anxiety and infinite wonder,
                none and all: may the

                true nature of myself
                and all others take birth
                where it has not yet done so,

                where it has taken birth,
                may it not decrease, but may it
                increase infinitely

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

anxiety wormhole: A Solitude by Denise Levertov
Bodhichitta wormhole: allowed all gain
emptiness wormhole: mandala offering
identity wormhole: the blessings of the Buddhas
life wormhole: beneath
world wormhole: light of all interaction

 

the blessings of the Buddhas

Tags

2019, 6*, blessing, Buddhas, identity, morality, nose, sound, speech

                the blessings of the Buddhas

                                                agghhh … – schTinnk –
                                whmmp, wh’ whattayoudoing!
                                look, you bloodied my nose, I

                                think it’s broken; why did you
                                stop me; “you snivelling, little
                                squit; not even looking where

                                you lash your forkèd tongue
                                or blink your sclerotic I; get-
                                outtahere, can’t you read, go

                                away and learn to read, or
                                I’ll kick your arse again and
                                show you what this pike can

                                                really do; that other door; there” – dink –

 

smack up against: Bodhisattvacharyavatara Chapter VI – verses 98-101: [98] Anyway, receiving praise and recognition and such make me complacent, they disrupt my equanimity, and then undermine any fear and weariness I have with cyclic existence and any sense of urgency to escape it, they engender jealousy towards those who have developed good qualities, ending up with anger and rivalry towards them so that all that has been built up and achieved has been defiled and wasted.   [99] Therefore can it not be said that those same people who are so closely involved in undoing my reputation and cutting me down to size and such, are really rendering me the service of holding me back from falling into lower rebirth and hell?   [100] These ties of getting and status I do not need and are unfitting for me who strives for Liberation.   How is it that I would be angry with those very persons who accordingly liberate me from those same ties?   In what way are they my enemies?   [101] And, how is it that I can be angry with those who cause me pain, who have become, as if blessings from the Buddha, a closed door, preventing me from entry as I stumble headlong and blindly to enter a world of overwhelming suffering?   In what way are they my enemies?

 

 

^{————w}(O)_{rmholes________________________________|—–}

identity wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – The Valley
sound wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – sooner; / and later
sound wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – Rain

 

Candaka

Tags

2019, 6*, Arya Lalitavistara, Buddha, Candaka, dharma, dream, gazing, gods, horizon, Kanthaka, meaning, renunciation, role, society, step, sword, the Four Signs, trees, yesterday

                Candaka

                out from the trees
                he emerged but was bedraggled

                he stared just under
                ahead, no longer to triumphant horizons

                his jaw hung as if forgot to locate
                no further to commend

                and his sword listed, tinny and tarnished,
                unsure to hand;

                just yesterday
                was a dream where he played the part

                of losing each part that he had played
                step by tired step

                and out of step with Kanthaka’s step;
                he had lost the Prince

 

etching, from the Arya Lalita Vistara Nama Mahayana Sutra; Chandaka was the charioteer and the groom for the Prince, Siddhartha Gautama, his chauffeur, in a way, but also a confidant, to some extent; it was Chandaka who led the Prince out of palace-life where the Prince encountered the Four Signs (four features of life which he hadn’t taken into account in his privileged life – old age, illness, death and living outside of society and social role); Kanthaka was the Prince’s magnificent horse, worthy of bearing a sovereign, the epitome of beauty, strength and transport; despite society and role obliging the Prince to remain in the palace and fulfil his dharma as king, his urge to get to the bottom of purpose and life was strong from previous lifetimes of vows … he had to leave; the gods themselves helped the Prince escape – it was only Chandaka who did not fall into a deep sleep; Kanthaka’s hooves did not strike the ground, the gates flew open by themselves – because they wanted someone to get to the bottom of purpose and life as well; both Chandaka and Kanthaka were devoted to the Prince but could not fully appreciate the gravity of the Prince’s quest, they played their roles – their dharma – but without full agency: all they could appreciate was the challenge to role and society that they had participated in, and no means to understand beyond that …

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

Buddha & renunciation wormhole: light of all interaction
dreams wormhole: “And anger it is that lays in ruins / every kind of mental goodness.”
horizon wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – The Valley
meaning wormhole: A Corner of the Garden at the Hermitage, 1877
society wormhole: looking for the right exit
trees wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – Rain

 

c’mon – keep up

Tags

2019, 6*, acceptance, career, change, CPD, identity, measure, music, Pink Floyd, principle, reputation, system, teaching, wind

                c’mon – keep up

                I was a teacher
                I was sometimes
                very good, I cut edges;

                things changed,
                (they’d never
                 quite coalesced)

                I stuck to
                principle, fatal
                to behold,

                couldn’t shimmy
                with the wind (there
                was never a wall

                that created the
                draft) I was
                still, sometimes,

                very good,
                but things just
                changed –

                                ~ O —

                wazzat I hear,
                music, far away,
                can’t make it out:

                “I don’t need no reputation
                  I don’t need no CPD
                  no starkly standards by which to measure

                  system leave them selfs alone … … …
                  hey, system, leave yourself alone …
                  all in all I’m just another brick in the wall”

 

from Bodhisattvacharyavatara, VI, 90-93: [90] And as for praise and fame and status, these will not necessarily affect my life at all; they will not bring me virtue or recognition, they will not extend my life-span or give me strength or free me from sickness or even make me feel good.   [91] If I truly knew what was of benefit and import to my life, what value would I hold in pursuing such things?   If all I want is some nominal, transient mental entertainment, perhaps I should just indulgently devote myself to gaming and getting high and such.   [92] And yet if, in pursuit of fame, I squander everything I have or even get myself killed for some point of honour, of what use would be the mere sound of words to anyone?   Once I am dead, to whom, of all the people I knew, would they bring satisfaction?   Can you eat words as if they were flesh?   When I am dead, what comes of my honour?   [93] When their mud-houses (and sand-castles) collapse, children spontaneously burst out crying in despair and anguish; and, likewise, when my approbation and renown dry up, my own mind reacts just like a silly child.

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

acceptance wormhole: the mantra of Maitreya
career & change wormhole: Renunciation
identity wormhole: looking for the right exit
music wormhole: there will be ovations
teaching wormhole: my uncomfortable life
wind wormhole: the old man;