• 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: communication

The Atlantic City Convention: 1. THE WAITRESS by William Carlos Williams

12 Friday Apr 2019

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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1928, 6*, arms, Atlantic City, beauty, being, black, blue, candle, cheek, city, colour, communication, daisies, dress, ears, eyes, fingers, glass, green, grey, hair, hands, hips, knuckles, lips, looking, matches, mirror, mouth, movement, open, orange, others, portrait, poverty, red, reflection, ring, ruby, sea, seagull, silence, skin, sound, speech, temptation, thinking, walking, waves, white, William Carlos Williams, windows, woman, wrists, writing

                            1. THE WAITRESS

                No wit (and none needed) but
    the silence of her ways, grey eyes in
    a depth of black lashes–
    The eyes look and the look falls.

    There is no way, no way. So close
    one may feel the warmth of the cheek and yet there is
    no way.

    The benefits of poverty are a roughened skin
    of the hands, the broken
    knuckles, the stained wrists.

                Serious. Not as the others.
    All the rest are liars, all but you.
                                        Wait on us.
    Wait on us, the hair held back practically
    by a net, close behind the ears, at the sides of
    the head. But the eyes–
                            but the mouth, lightly (quickly)
    touched with rouge.

    The black dress makes the hair dark, strangely
    enough, and the white dress makes it light.
    There is a mole under the jaw, low under
    thr right ear–

                And what arms!

                                        The glassruby ring
    on the fourth finger of the left hand.

                                        –and the movements
under the scant dress as the weight of the tray
    makes the hips shift forward slightly in lifting
    and beginning to walk–

    The Nominating Committee presents the following
    resolutions, etc. etc. etc. All those
    in favor signify by saying, Aye. Contrariminded,
    No.
      Carried.
                And aye, and aye, and aye!

    And the way the bell-hop runs downstairs:
          ta tuck a
                ta tuck a
                      ta tuck a
                            ta tuck a
                                  ta tuck a
    and the gulls in the open window screaming over the slow
    break of the cold waves–

                O unlit candle with the soft white
    plume, Sunbeam Finest Safety Matches all together in
    a little box–

                And the reflections of both in
    the mirror and the reflection of the hand, writing
    writing–
                Speak to me of her!-

                –and nobody else and nothing else
    in the whole city, not an electric sign of shifting
    colors, fourfoot daisies and acanthus fronds going from
    red to orange, green to blue–forty feet across–

                                        Wait on us, wait
    on us with your momentary beauty to be enjoyed by
    none of us. Neither by you, certainly,
                                                nor by me.

 

with love from Poems, 1928

 

 

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

beauty & speech wormhole: ‘… and yet I think I am so modest: …’
being wormhole: so, how long is, a piece of string?
black wormhole: Impression of Winter: Carriage on a Country Road, 1872
blue & grey & writing wormhole: Hastings: neither all or nothing
city & William Carlos Williams wormhole: prose piece 2 from POEMS 1927 by William Carlos Williams
communication wormhole: agreed termination without prejudice
eyes wormhole: between
glass & red wormhole: travelling / back
green & woman wormhole: on facing the Have
hair wormhole: SPRING & LINES by William Carlos Williams
hands wormhole: THE LONELY STREET by William Carlos Williams
looking wormhole: waiting to be heard
mirror wormhole: What You Are by Roger McGough
mouth wormhole: glamour of saṃsāra
open wormhole: animus rises – powieview #37
orange & others & walking wormhole: Rain, Steam and Speed – the / Great Western Railway, 1844
reflection wormhole: I
sea & seagull & waves wormhole: Staffa Fingal’s Cave, 1832
silence & sound wormhole: Vue de Pontoise, 1873
thinking wormhole: there will be ovations
white wormhole: alabaster balustrade
windows wormhole: birth in the world

 

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agreed termination without prejudice

02 Friday Mar 2018

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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2016, 4*, bulb, communication, depression, despair, flower, growth, petals, retirement, stalk, teaching

                                how is the growth
                                from thorny stalk

                                to cuppèd bulb to
                                flowered petal made?

                agreed termination without prejudice

 

‘agreed termination without prejudice‘ is the phrase given when a teacher is too broken to try to return to work again for the seventh time in ten years, and both sides are so wearied of ‘the way things are‘ despite all the changes and accommodations made, other than what was actually needed; but I will snatch victory from the razor-sharp fog of defeat, I … shall not-ice

 

 

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

communication wormhole: green and / luminant / to behold
depression wormhole: without any buffet at all
retirement & teaching wormhole: after all

 

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green and / luminant / to behold

02 Friday Feb 2018

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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Tags

2012, 5*, balance, being, breakdown, coffee, communication, diagram, distance, ears, eyes, father, fingers, fracture, gardening, gathering, glass, green, holiday, home, listening, looking, luminous, people, school, service station, society, suit, summer, table, talking, terrace, thinking, thumb, woman, work

                                first day summer
                                holiday service station
                                100 miles away from
                                home thinking I
                                don’t fit in with the
                                way things
                                are played

                always looking
                                fractured
                                cracked
                                                from in at the side

                                green and
                                luminant
                                to behold

                                on the terrace
                                two businessmen sit
                                with ledgers coffees
                                the woman listening

                to one
                                                to the other

                                agreeing
                                the diagram
                                on the table

                                the elder sits back
                                dark suit large ear
                                plump throat tanned
                                skin upturned hand
                                emphasising gently
                                beside the diagram
                                thumb to fingers

                slightly gathering
                                like a father
                                                like a gardener

                                occasionally
                                talking with
                                still young
                                green eyes

 

 

 

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

balance wormhole: ‘still …’
breakdown & society wormhole: after all
coffee & woman & work wormhole: Pilot 125 … // … being excursion in the interludes
communication wormhole: Infantino KO
eyes wormhole: two profiles
father wormhole: looking ahead
glass & people wormhole: the silent night of the Batman
green & looking & thinking wormhole: Batgirl –
holiday wormhole: when the rain has settled / the dust
listening wormhole: buttercups
school wormhole: step
table wormhole: immeasurable love
talking wormhole: and // do your ears burn red?

 

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Infantino                KO

21 Saturday Oct 2017

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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2014, 5*, action, cape, comics, communication, distance, drawing, Infantino, movement, posture, reaching, sound

                Infantino                KO

                braced wide-astride
                across the field of act to

                converge all the distances
                of breadth flicked up

                wards through torso
                switched-electric and

                relayed from stanchioned
                fist and elbow drawn

                to lean-reach syncretic
                to circuit to co-ordinate

                symmetric to suggestion
                of cape                SOK!

 

 

 

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

comics wormhole: that comicbookshop … // … in dreams
communication wormhole: circuitry
Infantino wormhole: Infantino / district of Gotham
posture wormhole: Mark & Jon at the coffee shop IV: right angles
sound wormhole: Cocktails in 1951

 

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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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just saying, is all VIII: keeping up toxic appearences

22 Monday May 2017

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2013, 5*, appearance, breath, career, communication, decades, dialectic, lungs, managerialism, neglect, no voice, offering, plastic, professionalism, rights, teaching, toxic

                                                                                 just saying, is all VIII:

                                              and after all
                                              I had something to offer
                                              to the very fibre and vessel of teaching

                                              that was ‘hoff’-
                                              ishly and consistently denied the right to enter
                                              that holy dialectic, it was

                                              sincere and
                                              credible and beneath
                                              neglect, while keeping up toxic appearences

                                              of communication,
                                              thriving in a sealed plastic bag …
                                              … in which I have taken breath for decades

                                              my lungs
                                              now shot through, unable to
                                              speak but still reliant on a borderline-

                psychotic professionalism wasting me to the bone

 

 

 

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

breath wormhole: stone
career & managerialism wormhole: just saying, is all VII: // `spolitical
communication wormhole: reprieve
professionalism & teaching wormhole: wakeoutofadream

 

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reprieve

05 Sunday Mar 2017

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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2015, 5*, beech, breeze, communication, conversation, Herstmonceux Castle, sculpture, stone, time, walking

                           reprieve

                back to the tea house under
                three hundred year beech trees

                the sculptor paces up and down
                the finished pieces – sculptures

                in the breeze – waiting for the
                latest stone to speak, between

                           conversations

 

the fourth part of the triptych without which there would be no ‘tych’ at all; this is the clip that links

 

 

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

breeze wormhole: familiasyncopation
communication & walking wormhole: singsong chant
stone & time wormhole: the // orange rose

 

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singsong chant

03 Friday Mar 2017

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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2015, 6*, being, bracken, child, communication, elder, father, footsteps, Herst Henge, Herstmonceux Castle, knowledge, love, questions, reading, singing, sitting, talking, voices, walking

                the young father walked the
                daughter up the avenue between

                the bracken and elder, her
                singsong chant powering her

                useless steps to Herst Henge;
                he speaks in cast-off phrases,

                kindly and patient, he knows
                of the circle without reading

                the board, he sits with no need
                of revitalisation, while the

                daughter wanders about hap-
                hazardly asking questions

 

third of four of the triptych; still at Herstmonceux Castle, in the grounds; here is a little something about Herst Henge if you happen to be a little daughter tromping up a grassy hill by a castle; and, yes, these three are hinged together … but they keep falling apart again, they might need something else to fasten them …

 

 

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

being & communication & talking wormhole: the // orange rose
child wormhole: child
father wormhole: to allow / passage
knowledge wormhole: poessay III: jijimuge
love wormhole: so pleased to see you again
reading wormhole: reading // unstirred
sitting & voices wormhole: 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
walking wormhole: occa / s / i // o / n / a // l // l // y

 

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the // orange rose

28 Tuesday Feb 2017

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

2015, 7*, being, clouds, communication, creativity, flag, Herstmonceux Castle, listening, metaphor, orange, passing, patience, realisation, rose, sculpture, smell, stone, talking, thinking, time, writing

                we talked, you have to listen
                to the stone, said the sculptor,

                you have to have the patience to
                start and the patience to stop;

                like working with a blank page,
                I said; “but the page was not

                formed by weight of time,” I
                thought, cleverly doing myself

                out of a metaphor; I wandered
                on and stopped to smell the

                orange rose and noticed the
                clouds drift heavy and close

                above the nations’ flags, to
                realise I was wrong to equate

                the stone with paper …

 

the second of four in the Herstmonceux Triptych (uh oh); on this day Hilary Manuhwa was exhibiting his works in the grounds of the castle; we had a lovely scattery conversation under the windy trees; have a look at cultureinstone if you are interested

 

 

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

being & stone wormhole: 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
clouds & passing wormhole: occa / s / i // o / n / a // l // l // y
communication & time wormhole: pine // gladioli // [&] wisteria
creativity wormhole: No
listening wormhole: returning home handsome
orange wormhole: 1968 – orange sand and mauve mist
realisation wormhole: comfy
smell wormhole: that comicbookshop … // … in dreams
talking wormhole: to rescue something
thinking wormhole: was there a moon / on the alleyway wall / confused in front of / the city skyline?
writing wormhole: holiday

 

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pine // gladioli // [&] wisteria

22 Wednesday Feb 2017

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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'scape, 2016, 5*, burgundy, butter, communication, gladiolus, green, horizontal, lilac, morning, National Trust, olive, pine tree, purple, Standen, story, time, velvet, white, wisteria

                           pine

            crafted
bourough of uprise through decades
of averted event

                           gladioli

            what are the stories:
chilled petals of lilac from velveted purple
            morning buttercurls from
medicine burgundy?

                           wisteria

            networks
of unconnecting junction
necessary for combed and horizontal trail of olive and green flurry from which to hang the            
            requisite white and tinted
lilac

 

while strolling through the garden one day … at the National Trust house of Standen; I know this is a bit more summery than present-posting, but I just found the piece in a notebook and forgotten I’d written it, so, there …

 

 

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

burgundy wormhole: clouds
communication wormhole: comfy
green & white wormhole: occa / s / i // o / n / a // l // l // y
lilac wormhole: 1968
morning wormhole: that comicbookshop … // … in dreams
olive wormhole: 1967
purple wormhole: south horizon
time wormhole: darkness

 

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← Older posts

… 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 …

  • “…and may the great elements…”
  • paisley // implicitly
  • this pocketed being
  • the inevitable tock // when we close our eyes
  • time
  • the simple prayer // the tattered poem // the bitter lament
  • taking birth
  • mirror
  • long / road
  • ‘in my car I pass…’

Uncanny Tops

  • me
  • Moebius strip
  • YOUNG WOMAN AT A WINDOW by William Carlos Williams
  • 'in my car I pass...'
  • 'the practice ...'
  • 'I can write ...'
  • like butterflies on / buddleia
  • meanwhile
  • 'hello old friend ...'
  • under the blue and blue sky

category sky

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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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