• 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: existence

so, how long is, a piece of string?

27 Wednesday Mar 2019

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, reflectionary

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

2018, 8*, anger, being, Bodhisattvacharyavatara, cause and effect, change, conditioned existence, doing, echo, enemy, event, existence, ghosts, identity, interaction, karma, knot, mind, others, practice, pre-existence, samsara, self-grasping, speech, talking to myself, tangle, thought, uncaused, untangling, web

                so, how long is a piece of string?

                always somehow, and ever somewhere,
                in a thousand different ways and
                a thousand different times, I set myself up,

                I set my self up
                to be the clever one, to be right in the end, and inevitably,
                like a thousand different echoes,

                someone comes and stands
                right in my way, or kneels in a ball behind me while someone else
                shoves me backwards

                so that I fall like a prat, and then someone else points
                and says ‘ha; ha’ in a thousand different ways; where
                do they all come from,

                do they just shimmer out of nowhere
                like ghosts just to frustrate me –whooo!–
                do they come out of nature,

                naturally unjust, naturally evil; are they just there
                existing from their own side, like a sharp bend in a long stretch of road
                {oh, come on,

                 no, they’d have to pre-exist in order to
                 come into existence, which would involve
                 a change in something which cannot change

                 because it is pre-existent, and therefore
                 causeless, so that it would have to stop being what it is
                 in order to be what it isn’t,

                 you know that, don’t you}; no, everything
                is conditioned, yes, and nothing stands
                independent by itself, so everything

                I have ever done or said or thought
                has been conditioned already, ok, but also,
                everything I have ever done or said

                or thought has also set up a
                whole web of further conditions
                which have had, or are nail-tapping waiting to have,

                an impact on other events
                and people; and yes, that’s ‘me’ in the corner …:
                the endless twists and turns I have made,

                and still making with every move and word and thought,
                which bind me in, tightly or loosely,
                to everything with which I interact –

                completely and utterly tangled:
                I hope I acted cleanly and carefully,
                but I’m afraid I didn’t – I’m … going to have to face my

                whole knot – a universally big ball,
                so much bigger than l’il ole me
                that it doesn’t seem to have much to do with me, but it does,
                it, all, does;

                and I’d better stop pulling and tugging away at it
                to get my own way and
                start untangling, and start untangling …

…I had a tangle of garden-wire to sort today; it had been wound round a dispenser but some of it had crossed over, become entangled, yanked, and a whole middle section had come away; then it had been worked on, to untangle it, but impatiently, and without thought, and so whole rolls of it had become furled over and through themselves, some bits were knotted, some bits were hanging out in great loops; being garden-wire, it kinked where it had been bent which also caught other strands as they came close to them in their tangle; and it had been cut for a quick solution, and so I had more than two ends that I could make any sense of; it took time untangling it, it took willing to give up on some progress I had already made on seeing that I’d started too far in, or too peripherally; it meant keeping hold of the thread I was starting with and turning the whole tangle around it, rather than working through the tangle, knowing that I was making problems for myself further down the line but I couldn’t worry about that yet; it meant having to abandon my initial thread sometimes to concentrate on further-on loops before I could return to it released; it meant I had to think ahead a bit to loosen the tangle in all the ways that it would, even if it meant unravelling the newly-wound initial thread I’d already sorted, a little; I had to take a rest every once in a while because I was concentrating too tightly …

                no, these enemies they’ve
                been ‘here’ all along, right in the
                back of my head, long forgotten,

                but from the time I crossed them
                in a thousand different ways
                and a thousand different times,

                they’ve been waiting, relentlessly,
                for a body and a circumstance to come together
                to respond:

                “there you go, mate, I owed you that”
                and inexorably I’d been setting myself up with just the right conditions
                to receive it

 

Bodhisattvacharyavatara chapter VI, verse 47: Impelled by my actions – [drawn out by circumstance, incited by the heat of the moment, prompted by hearsay, provoked by trigger, instigated by design, mobilised by obligation, shoved by control, summoned by role] – those who cross or hurt me, those who do me wrong just appear, right in my way and do what they have to do. And because of their actions, they will end up fallen and consigned to the infernal realms … surely, isn’t it actually me who have destroyed and damned them, haven’t I just been the mirror to magnify back to them their harm?

and, yes, that is a reference to the REM song, losing … something

 

 

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

being & mind wormhole: …zzh-vvttP*–… … …
change wormhole: on facing the Have
doing & speech wormhole: ‘ouch’
echo wormhole: St. Erasmus in Bishop Islip’s Chapels, 1796
ghosts wormhole: what wounds have you got?
identity & others wormhole: there will be ovations
practice wormhole: ‘there, …’
samsara wormhole: glamour of saṃsāra
talking to myself wormhole: SPRING AND ALL VI by William Carlos Williams
thought wormhole: horizon

 

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horizon

22 Friday Feb 2019

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2019, 6*, airport, being, clouds, conformity, discernment, existence, flying, height, horizon, mass, matter, passing, progress, quiet, sky, space, sun, thought, travelling

                horizon

                to a quiet corner of the airport,
                there were handrails across the sky

                with steps up and over
                passing clouds; later, up and climbing

                to cruise, we have clearance to pass
                through floating land

{it’s OK, it’s OK, strato-technology can only allow crust and cohesion with unauthorised approach, otherwise the whole cannot maintain buoyancy; and unauthorised approach just cannot frequently be allowed}

                but at 37 000 feet
                the thought writhes:

                does space allow the mass within,
                or does space tear horizontal shards in

                implacable matter by
                any possible progress

                until there is
                no possibility of making any discernment at all

                when the sun has fallen
                below our own event?

 

we went to Lanzarote for a brief holiday – or did Lanzarote come to us through the medium of fuselage; either way … the further you travel the deeper you stay where you are; flying … still weird

 

 

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

being & passing & sky wormhole: Hastings: neither all or nothing
clouds & sun wormhole: The Diligence at Louveciennes, 1870
horizon wormhole: and … // … sound
quiet wormhole: La Route de Louveciennes, 1870
space wormhole: sun setting over a lake, 1840
thought wormhole: Fishermen at Sea, 1796
travelling wormhole: SPRING AND ALL XI by William Carlos Williams

 

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SPRING AND ALL XXII by William Carlos Williams

06 Sunday Jan 2019

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

1923, 6*, art, being, categories, chickens, education, existence, form, imagination, interdependent origination, knowledge, life, nature, poetry, quote, rain, reality, red, water, wheelbarrow, white, William Carlos Williams

                so much depends
                upon

                a red wheel
                barrow

                glazed with rain
                water

                beside the white
                chickens

 

from Spring and All, 1923; “wait, is that it, one of his most famous and quoted poems, and that’s it?”; well, no … this poem was actually nested within a whole weave of contemplations and exclamations to the contrary (quoted liberally, tatteredly and patch-workly – sorry, Bill): “the fixed categories into which life is divided … exist – … not as dead dissections … but in a different condition when energised by the imagination … but at present [early 1920s, America, and hence the upcoming androcentrist reference, I do apologise] knowledge is placed before a man as if it were a stair at the top of which a DEGREE is obtained which is superlative … the inundation of the intelligence by masses of complicated fact is not knowledge … it is on imagination on which reality rides … it is a cleavage through everything by a force that does not exist in the mass and therefore can never be discovered by its anatomisation … it is for this reason that I have always placed art first … art is the pure effect of the force upon which science depends for its reality – Poetry … poetry has to do with the crystallisation of the imagination – the perfection of new forms as additions to nature …”

 

taken from Ali Shapiro at http://blog.pshares.org/index.php/poetic-analytics/: I hope she doesn’t mind – those venn circles, they were so cold and so sweet

 

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

being & life wormhole: on facing the Have
education wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – On Doing Nothing
knowledge wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – Trees
poetry wormhole: oh, alright then
rain wormhole: THE GREAT FIGURE by William Carlos Williams
reality wormhole: coagulating
red wormhole: SPRING AND ALL I by William Carlos Williams
water wormhole: sun setting over a lake, 1840
white wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – pageant of the trees
William Carlos Williams wormhole: SPRING AND ALL XI by William Carlos Williams

 

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‘… plane is upright …’

07 Sunday Oct 2018

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, poeviews

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

1965, 2018, 7*, being, brick, buildings, carlights, circular poem, city, curtains, Dr Strange, existence, eyes, field, floor, guidance, hats, life, lightning, looking, moebius, moon, neighbourhood, passing, perspective, plane, rain, resolution, shadow, sign, speech, Stan Lee, steel, step, Steve Ditko, Strange Tales, streets, sun, throat, time, turning, vertical, walking, walls, way, windows

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                            when field of all temporal …
                                                              than just a façade but                           …
                                                                                                                                   …
                                      of steel and brick more                                                        … plane is upright
                                    the hatch and cross                                                                          and turned to perspective

                      windows, for a second                                                                                              and route is looped
               through endless endless                                                                                                      through the eye of

       neighbourhood boroughs                                                                                                               its own step, there will be
                 will be revealed as                                                                                                                     curtains of reign

   lightning where canyons                                                                                                                        through which to stride
             will always turn to                                                                                                                          oblivious, but the loss under-                                                                        

        but the reach of eye                                                                                                                             brim will seize the rear
 only to the next puddle;                                                                                                                            palate and numb the speech

       passing carlights look                                                                                                                          as eyes turn to look behind
 the walls and floors when                                                                                                                        themselves, save the

             enough to disregard                                                                                                                  moon will always guide
     leaving flit and twistreach                                                                                                               through dusty streets

          falls like inevitable treacle                                                                                                      far better than the beady sun
                 underbrim gathers then                                                                                               with all its signage and

                              as the ride across the                                                                                paraphanelia, no it is by
                              that resolve will be seized                                                                slanting blind shadows

 

Strange Tales #132-133, May-June 1965, Stan Lee; Steve Ditko: it is my contention that Dr Strange is strange because he doesn’t appear in his own event, he slips in and out at right angles to plane existence thence to vanquish solipsistic threat – story of my life

 

 

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

being & life & rain & walking wormhole: coterminalism – there is nothing happens by itself, / 070118
buildings & moon wormhole: the moon, the moon
circular poem wormhole: amid
city & sun & walls wormhole: space for probing thought
curtains wormhole: What You Are by Roger McGough
Dr Strange wormhole: ‘when travelling astrally …’
eyes & looking wormhole: ‘a blacknight fitted perfectly …’
field & speech & time wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – With Pigs
lightning wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – from arm to nature, doing nothing
wormhole
passing wormhole: Victorian pipework
shadow & streets & windows wormhole: LIGHT HEARTED WILLIAM by William Carlos Williams

 

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poessay X: soul love – poewieview #2

21 Thursday Jan 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, poeviews

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

2016, 7*, appearance, art, assimilation, asymmetry, Bowie, bread, butter, centrifugal, centripetal, chords, communication, defining, depression, dichotomy, eclectic, existence, gold, I, identity, illusion, inside, insight, leaves, liberation, living, love, meaning, music, naïveté, nose, octave, others, outside, piano, poessay, right & wrong, seeing, semantics, soul, superhero, syntax, warp, weft, words, world

                poessay X: soul love

                thin depression
                like butter over frozen bread
                when things go well, a shoulder tap,
                the superhero mask with no nose;

                somethings is not right
                outside or in, oneself aren’t what I thought, we
                just don’t co-ordinate as we should
                creating havoc with syntax; but there

                the gold, the outsight,
                that things isn’t quite right
                allows a cleaner, naïve sights of your leaves1 as long as ‘I don’t fit’
                doesn’t get in the way;

                maybe ‘things’ don’t exist as they appear (or,
                even, shouldn’t),
                that everything are wrong (with
                trans-dualistic semantic); where depression

                is trying to maintain an illusion in a world we did not create (‘wauuugh’),2            
                not proof that ‘we’ is wrong but insight
                to what ‘things’ truly is, and where
                art could be liberative,

                if communicative; which is why Bowie w/is
                important: no sense but the weft of asymmetry
                and the warp of dichotomy in … love
                for other/s-ness-eh city, where eclectic

                assimilation is the means of meaning, always
                far wider than defined, where chordings and octaves are
                centripuntal to word; or not …
                with damn good piano solo

 

1 this piece of work grew out of a conversation with Johnbalaya which we had over coffee and jam on toast one mornings in the pages of Powieviews; orange juice anyone?
2 an mlewisredford No-Prize if you can tell me which character’s strap-line this is; c’mon, c’mon …

Read the collected movements in David Bowie: Movements in Suite Major

 

 

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

Bowie & identity & naïveté wormhole: sixty four sixty five
communication wormhole: … the discipline of shamatha / the waft of vipashyana
depression & music wormhole: Poewieviews
gold & living & love wormhole: finding my own true nature – Plumstead, Woolwich, 190915
leaves wormhole: along
meaning & world wormhole: let the dreams / become the ghosts they / always were
others & piano wormhole: com- / mute
poessay wormhole: poessay IX – … just saying, is all II
seeing wormhole: Office at Night, 1940
superhero wormhole: sit
words wormhole: when writing // stay

 

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if left alone

22 Tuesday Dec 2015

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2014, being, change, existence, letting go, lost, making, nothing, peace, thinking, time, true nature

 

 

 

                               nothing is
                             ever lost
                           that was
                        n’t there           when things
                       all along              change
                         anyway               from start
                          but that                to finish
                             thinking             because
                            made it so          everything
                                                    changes
                                                  by itself
                                               peacefully

                                 if left alone

 

 

 

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

being wormhole: Christmas lights / around the lamp post
change wormhole: Sunday afternoon
letting go wormhole: when writing // stay
thinking wormhole: grrr
time wormhole: Hotel Room, 1931

 

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start where / you are II

16 Tuesday Jun 2015

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

2015, being, coffee, coffee shop, creativity, distraction, emptiness, existence, feeling, notice, seeing, wonder, writing

 

 

 

                                                                                              start where
                                                                                 you are II

                                it’s not just about (the rail-slip of the coffee
                                that obliges me to wonder) what I feel it’s

                                not just (the oblique hole in the back of
                                the chair beside me through which I notice

                                nothing) about what I see around me –
                                but that the wonder wouldn’t funnel at all

                                but that the nothing and the whole would not be noticed
                                but for the distraction and the writing that

                turns them both
inside out

 

 

 

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

being & writing wormhole: Exceat to Cuckmere Haven
coffee wormhole: dream 260713
coffee shop wormhole: oh,
creativity wormhole: … back to the outbreath
distraction wormhole: the art of sit and follow
emptiness wormhole: [start where you are III] – delve
existence wormhole: nu’ink, / that’s what
seeing wormhole: before // writing?

 

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nu’ink, / that’s what

14 Saturday Mar 2015

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2013, achievement, ambition, being, doing, existence, feeling, illusion, life, LoJong, non-doing, non-striving, practice, sitting, world

 

 

 

                nu’ink,
                that’s what

                                   I sit doing nothing
                                    achieving nothing
                                     evading anything which comes along and tries
                                     to feel something
                                     or to be anything
                                          it is not –

                or not –

            I shouldn’t even be doing it well
       or at least not try to be doing it well
                           or if I do anything well it is to give up all plan and ambition
            because I need to be trained well so that when I get up from sitting I’ll be limbered and loose to continue life in the unreal world
                                                         well

 

 

 

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

being wormhole: H e a v e
doing wormhole: Dr Strange VII – the madness of Mordo
life wormhole: Desolation Angels
practice wormhole: I am a solid block of stone
sitting wormhole: gently straighten
world wormhole: darkness

 

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Dr Strange VII – the madness of Mordo

04 Wednesday Mar 2015

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, poeviews

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

2012, being, comics, death, doing, Dr Strange, dream, earth, existence, Gene Colan, madness, rebirth, Steve Englehart

 

 

 

                                              too late
                                planet Earth is no more
                                              for all my fighting and struggle
                                I have achieved only
                                              the madness of Mordo
                                              the whole span and play of existence ssspunnn
                                                              to its opposites:
                                death                                                                being
                                              ovum                                rebirth
                                                              everything
                                                                                 is the same as it ever was but
                classic classic comicbook
                                              it was all just a dream
                                                              it is everything that is dream

 

askance from: Dr Strange #6-13 (Feb 1975-April 1976); Marvel; writer: Steve Englehart; artist: Gene Colan

 

 

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

being wormhole: between
comics wormhole: four-colour pulp into cinematic di[gital]pix[el][live ac]tion so easily makes for semantic palava (if you read what I mean) … the foredreading of Dr Strange
death wormhole: ‘a spark from the empty light socket …’
Dr Strange & Gene Colan wormhole: Dr Strange VI – to hold my face to the world
doing wormhole: darkness
dream wormhole: 1959 –– MANHATTAN –– 2012

 

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a known from without the unknown

08 Wednesday Oct 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

2014, 6*, circular poem, existence, identity, knowing, samsara, society, state, time

 

 

 

                                                             when you
                                                       even                         do not know –
                            can have an identity                               when you cannot know –
            can have a certainty and you                                    but also cannot
         of past and present and future                                      let it be known
      counterparts and doppelgängers                                     that you do not know
                       so that all your endless                               you have to state it is
 a known from without the unknown                         because you exist
                                                                         to ensure

 

 

 

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

circular poem wormhole: first a mishap then clear vision
identity wormhole: breathe it all / in
samsara wormhole: extrapolates
society wormhole: Batman#175
time wormhole: letters to Mum V – carrying on in duty and love

 

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"... 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

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SoundEagle 🦅ೋღஜஇ

Where The Eagles Fly . . . . Art Science Poetry Music & Ideas

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I write because I read. I read because I write.

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Buddhist meditation applied to our everyday lives...

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Sunra Rainz

Poetry. Art. Photography. Musings.

A girl seeking joy and serenity

Silver Birch Press

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a few words spewing from my soul...

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