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

mlewisredford

Tag Archives: career

c’mon – keep up

19 Friday Jul 2019

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ Leave a comment

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;

 

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Renunciation

22 Wednesday May 2019

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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2019, 6*, betrayal, career, change, changing, doing, falling, identity, irrelevance, performance, profile, redundancy, renunciation, retirement, samsara, society

                Renunciation

                you make your mark
                and you form your identity

                when you make it work
                or you make it otherwise

                or opt-out of the way
                it is currently done

                and you detail the profile
                and service your brand

                while making it perform
                or making it change

                or becoming irrelevant
                to the way things develop

                and you become your own redundancy
                and wonder why

                while perfecting your take
                or taking the fall

                or being betrayed
                by the way things changed

                out of anyone’s hands;
                or not

 

 

 

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

career wormhole: my uncomfortable life
change wormhole: A Corner of the Garden at the Hermitage, 1877
doing & identity & society wormhole: mandala offering
renunciation & samsara wormhole: the old man;
retirement wormhole: it’s / not what you do or what you say / if it ain’t got that swing

 

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my uncomfortable life

29 Monday Apr 2019

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, reflectionary

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2019, 6*, abandonment, activity, anger, Bodhisattvacharyavatara, breakdown, broken, career, closed, compromise, contentment, context, Dad, disappointment, expectation, experience, eyes, feeling sorry for myself, frustration, greed, hope, injustice, laziness, life, management, no voice, people, politicians, powerlessness, Principal, requirement, resentment, self-cherishing, self-confidence, self-doubt, self-esteem, slogans, society, spin, teaching, thought, Tony Blair, turmoil, waiting, words, work

                I did not know contentment
                at work, what was required,
                what I thought, I never wholly
                got my teaching … sorted

                turmoil, and even when not
                outwardly angry, I was
                closed off and unapproachable,
                carrying anger and resentment

                like a thorny bush tied
                to my back since Dad left
                and people were ‘phony’ and
                society was stupid and words

                were insincere and all activity
                was a compromise and my equals cheated
                and laziness was always greedy
                and hope was rude and the politicians

                were tricksters and Tony Bliar
                and managers slogan-shifted like there was no tomorrow
                and the Principals
                wouldn’t know what to do with good practice if it writhed around suggestively on their desk in front of them and made them delicious promises of future dangerous liaison                      

                and by default I am
                at least disappointed, usually frustrated
                and often impotent-angry with them
                when they invariably reference me

                (and they always reference me)
                or when I am actually wronged,
                and then I’ll blow, beyond all immediate context
                because I have already been smouldering,

                waiting for the wrong to happen,
                expecting the wrong to happen,
                experiencing the wrong happening
                even before it has manifested;

                and I am right, it is wrong
                and compromised and greedy and unprincipled
                what they have done, even
                when they haven’t

                given expression to it, in fact
                especially when they haven’t
                given full expression to it
                and are sloganising and spinning

                that what is happening
                is entirely something else;
                and the powerlessness of
                not being able to have a voice

                no appeal to a universal
                right and wrong … built me up
                with no recourse and, I get broken;
                look at my tired eyes – my uncomfortable life

 

Bodhisattvacharyavatara VI, 3: A mind which walks with, which harbours, which is in the grip of, which is poisoned with anger and hate can neither establish nor enjoy any state of calm or peace, any sense of well-being or equipoise, any contentment, any resolution, neither can it feel any joy or delight, any sense of kindliness or love, nor can it sleep or rest, when the shard of aversion and hate is stuck and buried deep in one’s heart; but … I have retired now, I, am coming through

 

 

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

abandonment wormhole: south horizon
breakdown wormhole: green and / luminant / to behold
career wormhole: it’s / not what you do or what you say / if it ain’t got that swing
compromise wormhole: raised brow
Dad wormhole: the reach turned to love
eyes wormhole: The Atlantic City Convention: 1. THE WAITRESS by William Carlos Williams
life & society wormhole: the old man;
management wormhole: how to teach
people wormhole: Puerto del Carmen
teaching wormhole: and … // … sound
thought wormhole: so, how long is, a piece of string?
waiting wormhole: all // are // none
words wormhole: SPRING AND ALL VI by William Carlos Williams
work wormhole: Vue de Pontoise, 1873

 

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it’s / not what you do or what you say / if it ain’t got that swing

04 Monday Feb 2019

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

2018, 5*, allowing, being, breathing, career, doing, giving, growth, hedge, knowing, landscape, letting go, life, living, mountain, passing, regulation, retirement

                                              it’s
                        not what you do or what you say
                                if it ain’t got that swing

                                              not
                the regulation of life that lives and grows
                        but the approach of not taking it;

                                              not the
                coming out on top a mountain that never summits
                        but in the byways along the hedges passing landscapes

                                            not …
                        the giving way or giving over,
                                but the letting go,

                                    not
                        about the knowing
                                but all about the being

                                              not
                about the certificates and positions that make the career
                        but the smile of greeting

                                               it is
                in seeing that there is nothing to Have
                        that the perfections of living breathe

 

 

 

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

being & career & doing & living wormhole: between
breathing wormhole: London, 1809
giving wormhole: ‘… and yet I think I am so modest: …’
hedge wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – pageant of the trees
letting go wormhole: to let be
life wormhole: The Diligence at Louveciennes, 1870
passing wormhole: St. Erasmus in Bishop Islip’s Chapels, 1796
retirement wormhole: somehow

 

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between

02 Saturday Feb 2019

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2018, 5*, ambition, being, between, birth, career, doing, eyes, growth, justice, living, practice, reference, Salinger, Sartre, speech, study, teaching

                                                                                                between

                                there’s something not right about all this
                                the mismatch between what is said and

                                the delay of their eyes, between justice
                                and making living, the ‘bad faith’ and

                                the ‘phoniness’, the study and the reference,
                                the practice and the ambition, the birth

                                and the growth, the teaching and
                                the career – leaves you betwixt

                if you’re at all
                lucky

 

 

 

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

being wormhole: Fishermen at Sea, 1796
career wormhole: how to teach
doing wormhole: on facing the Have
eye wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – pageant of the trees
justice wormhole: London refugee march – 120915
living wormhole: Victorian pipework
practice wormhole: to arms, then;
speech wormhole: somehow
study & teaching wormhole: coterminalism – there is nothing happens by itself, / 070118

 

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how to teach

02 Sunday Sep 2018

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

2018, 4*, Academy, accountability, betrayal, career, classroom, corridors, flowers, game, ideas, infrastructure, management, OFSTED, politics, Principal, requirement, resentment, school, special measures, teaching, teaching craft, thinking

                I suppose it’s not actually your fault
                that I brought to the point of fruition

                those things which you were required
                to require to keep your sorry arse out of

                special measures and you didn’t have the
                first or second idea what to do with them

                because you had long since moved on to
                eleventh and twelfth ideas playing

                some stupid game about infrastructure
                and accountability and completely forgot

                how to teach

 

about and dedicated to the former Principal of the former school (oh, sorry, Academy … what was I thinking) where I spent the whole 29 years of my former career which had calcified even as it flowered it’s most beautiful petals and eventually snapped under so much pretty weight and fell silent and unnoticed to the ground (and a good job too, it would have been a light, colourful mess in the corridor or the classroom); all of which I am required to not name if I’m to keep the paltry amount of money given for me to just shut up at long last; even after years of escape it seems I still bear a grudge – I really must find a honey pot for it somewhere …

 

 

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

career wormhole: I am not yet ready
game wormhole: [once a] dilemminal [always a dilemminal]
management & teaching wormhole: new blue porsche
politics wormhole: looking / ridiculous
school wormhole: green and / luminant / to behold
teaching craft wormhole: Structure & d y n a m i c
thinking wormhole: Khandro Tsering Chodron

 

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I am not yet ready

03 Saturday Feb 2018

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2016, 5*, career, confession, eyes, faces, fracture, indentity, Luton, mouth, passing, people, Refuge, responsibility, university, work

                in the university reception
                I cannot Take Refuge while
                fractured from those around

                and those who pass, their
                faces about their work and
                identity, already persed

                beside their mouth my eyes
                trying to make the devastating
                confession for which I suspect

                I am not yet ready

 

 

 

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

career wormhole: after all
eyes & people & work wormhole: green and / luminant / to behold
faces wormhole: ‘God, who am I …?’
identity wormhole: lack of center
mouth & passing wormhole: two profiles
university wormhole: reading // unstirred

 

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after all

29 Monday Jan 2018

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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Tags

2016, 4*, Alan Moore, anarchy, breakdown, career, compromise, extreme, gender, innocence, Katie, regret, retirement, sadness, sleep, society, teaching, V for Vendetta, victim, wind

                Katie tugged at the eaves, alright,
                so I roused just deeply sad

                at the end of my wasted career,
                too naïve to win, so I read

                the beginning of Evey and V’s
                encounter and knew it could

                never have been done
                after all

 

storm Katie hit the southern UK in March of 2016; naming storms makes it personal; I was also starting what turned out to be my last protracted burn-out from work; Evey and V are the main protagonists in Alan Moore’s ‘V for Vendetta’ – V is the play-through of Anarchy created by the state against which it wages vendetta, his very presence provokes the state, let alone what he says or does; Evey is the play-with of innocence nurtured by the state to fulfil her gender to which she serves as victim, her very presence is exploitative; Evey and V could never co-exist if they stay as they are: if they stay as they are, they are extreme, if they change, they are compromised; by the end of August I was retired and filled with thoughts of what could have been of those 29 years

 

 

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

Alan Moore wormhole: darkness
breakdown wormhole: I turn to wake up
career & teaching wormhole: “I need help”
compromise wormhole: sweet chestnut
retirement wormhole: dream I // dream II
sleep wormhole: good going into / that gentle night
society wormhole: found
wind wormhole: clear as vista

 

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“I need help”

26 Friday Jan 2018

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

2015, 4*, career, dream, fear, letting go, passing, shame, speech, stairs, teacher, teaching

                vulnerable and stuck
                on the way to first lesson

                taking the short-cut over
                the main stairwell, narrow

                foot-ledge, I cannot
                continue, don’t look down,

                I cannot go back, “I need
                help, get a teacher” and

                I am not ashamed to
                call out loud, no one

                does, I cannot go back,
                a teacher passes, I

                cannot remember her
                name “I need help”;

                I realise there is a balcony-
                corridor behind the ledge,

                safety partition is loose,
                I can lean back into it,

                break the screen, fall
                back, no more fear

 

 

 

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

career wormhole: circuitry
dream wormhole: breathing through hypnagogia
letting go wormhole: place
passing wormhole: and // do your ears burn red?
speech wormhole: Sandwich
stairs wormhole: is this it // all the time
teaching wormhole: I turn to wake up

 

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circuitry

09 Monday Oct 2017

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

2014, 6*, being, career, circuits, circular poem, communication, doing, echo, identity, lead, mind, silence, society, thinking, time, world

 

                                                                    so much
                    unless there were                         overrule and overlay
             can not respond to                                   forming ad hoc
                my silent mind                                         circuitry
    gathering echoes that                                           both clipped
                 demands like                                             and split
 in a vacuous world that                                           through junction
             to make the play                                          and relay
             choice is bypassed                                    massed in
           so thick over time that                         cable over lead
                                          clumped

 

 

 

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

being wormhole: holiday
career wormhole: breathing through hypnagogia
circular poem wormhole: in the / Citadel / Park / a leaf / new / ly fell
communication wormhole: just saying, is all VIII: keeping up toxic appearences
doing & thinking wormhole: place
echo & society wormhole: divergent // direction
identity wormhole: concordance
mind wormhole: jump start
silence wormhole: make your rickety / constructs strong with / unbending grids / of attention and wide- / open grates of let
time wormhole: lime crocs
world wormhole: I keep / waiting to be discovered and get lost in anticipation

 

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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 …

  • IN THE ‘SCONSET BUS by William Carlos Williams
  • nowhere / that can be seen
  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara: Chapter VI, Patience – verses 128-132; reflectionary
  • travelling,
  • despite all / depiction
  • Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – tenderness
  • POEM by William Carlos Williams
  • on / that / day
  • poessay XI – piquant love
  • travel // when I die

Uncanny Tops

  • SUMMER SONG by William Carlos Williams
  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara: Chapter VI, Patience – verse 14; reflectionary
  • duck calls
  • wriving
  • 1964
  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara
  • Introduction
  • Chapter 1
  • Chapter 2
  • Chapter 3

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