Four Noble Truths

Tags

2019, 7*, Bodhichitta, doing, doors, eyes, fly, flying, food, Four Noble Truths, glass, ignorance, liberation, light, sound, suffering, thinking

Four Noble Truths

                and here comes the fly
                brandishing eye-bulbs in seventeen directions

                unaware of in or out
                looking for light or food to go

                finds one truth against the glass and
                findsssszzz the second against the glass

                in seventeen different directions
                at once – in to the room straight

                by my head: do I duck and swat
                (hideous temptation that shudder reminds me

                 no), do I guide it’s flight with foolscap sheet
                (and look at those bodies hung en-wrapped in cornered webs

                 no), the door remains open,
                it has but to fly through, the remaining

                two truths unfound and all unrealised; 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

 

what more fitting way to conclude this meditating-occupation than the Buddha’s teaching of the Four Noble Truths (there is suffering in life, suffering is caused by grasping, grasping can be loosed, by letting it all go) for liberation and Bodhichitta to extend that liberation universally …

 

 

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

Bodhichitta wormhole: none and all
doing & sound wormhole: ‘and is there homage …’
doors wormhole: ‘from the cathedral window two stories / high …’
eyes wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – valley
glass & light wormhole: ‘not sure …’
thinking wormhole: despite all / depiction

 

sunny day

Tags

'scape, 2012, 5*, birds, birdsong, communication, fly, laugh, life, open, samsara, sound, sun, talking, time, windows

 

 

 

                      sunny day

                      plate klinks toddler rowls
                      laughter rises from stating-talk
                      like lemonade

                      flies walk around and around
                      and around the corner of an
                      open window finding no way out

                      and the birds calling their various
                      networks at different levels constantly
                      but always unnoticed

 

 

 

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

birds & communication & life & sound & sun & time wormhole: tag cloud poem IV – C
open wormhole: open window
samsara wormhole: in verse / question / m a r k ?
talking wormhole: t w e n t y f i r s t c e n t u r y l i f e
windows wormhole: star / through the kitchen / window

 

again

Tags

2012, 7*, acceptance, blogging, breathing, compassion, conservatory, dancing, emptiness, fly, identity, lifetimes, living, lost, love, markbook, movement, name, paint, poetry, publishing, realisation, recognition, self-containment, sitting, talking to myself, tea, teaching, thought, wood, writing

 

 

 

                                … ohpe!
                there it goes again
tens of hours of shaping and formatting a piece
                and placing it and checking it
                                no hits

                timely reminder
                                again
that I have rather seeped into publishing of late
                like gloss paint dried into wood-grain
                                making me all used up
                and no air for writing
                                no air for living or sitting

                                again

                same as with markbook
                                years past
                the same as with anything
that can find my way through the anonymity and overlook
                                enough
                to become identified
                                and then flog it
                flog it for all its worth
well why not flog it for all its worth
                                because it puts all my eggs into one basket
                and baskets these days
                                are one among a million

                —o—

interlude

                the fly
that was annoying me in the too hot conservatory is now
                gracefully
                circling
in the pint of peppermint tea I was letting cool
                and was really
                looking forward to

                —o—

                I need to flush
the askance and dance
                                through everything I live
                not just through the poetry
                                but
                I can’t do that
if I am too gravitated in the centre of anything trying
                desperate
                                to Make Me a Star and Saviour!

                … guess
guess what the conclusion is going to be
                                c’mon now
how can I loosen my centre of gravity
                so I can askance and dance freely
                                without being there at all

                                come on now class
                Redford – put your phone away
                                and give it a try
Mark – stop staring out the window
                Lewis – put your hand down
                                give the others a chance
                altogether now:
                                SIT!

                —o—

                …

                … OK, Lewis, tell us why …
well if you sit being aware of the thousand thoughts and movements which are not sitting
                without
                going
with them and just smiling on them sweetly as they pass
                                you create a gap in the centre –

                                no you don’t
                the gap is already there
in fact there is nothing BUT gap
                                there has always only been nothing there   -yes
                alright Mark
let Lewis finish:-

                – you create a gap
in the centre of thought and movement
                through
                which
you find your true self which was never localised in the first place
                                no matter how hard Redford tried –

                oh so
I’ve been wasting my life trying
                alright
                Redford
calm down don’t –

                slam
the door
                go after him will you Mark
tell him he’s been living his wastes all along but that
                                he still needs to find those gaps in the
                                              first
                                place

                —o—

                oh, and Mark, try not to be so insensitive in future

 

 

 

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

acceptance wormhole: Woodbrooke labyrinth / affirmations
breathing wormhole: too
compassion wormhole: Beresford Square: // it’s alright it’s alright
conservatory wormhole: dream / 130207
dancing wormhole: slow slow / quick quick / slo / w
emptiness wormhole: ‘set the controls / for the heart of the sun’
identity & tea & writing wormhole: through the window
lifetimes worhole: gravity
living & sitting wormhole: while
love wormhole: 32 years
markbook wormhole: pep talk
poetry wormhole; chores to do – diptych
publishing wormhole: successive scenes in the autobiopera / conflict and resolution in each episode // credits: me me me me me
realisation wormhole: adversely / mistaking the finger for the moon / again
recognition & teaching wormhole: :just wondering …
talking to myself wormhole: practise what you doing / give what you having / breathe what you remember
thought wormhole: the ocean
wood wormhole: Michael Redford: // someone missing

 

Saturday

Tags

'scape, 2013, 7*, being, blood, breath, career, Carol, cathedral, clouds, conservatory, doing, dream, faces, feet, fly, kitchen, legs, love, menopause, mouth, muse, period, roof, Saturday, silence, sleep, snow, sound, space, sun, sunlight, tired, toes, wind, windows

 

 

 

                                Saturday

                                              my busy girl
lays on the settee in the conservatory feet up
                on the arm

                                              the plastic roof
cracks as it expands from the sunlight columns from
                through the clouds

                                              the occasional wind
blows the bamboo silently outside but the clouds don’t move
                like a cathedral

                                              a fly
intermittently worries around looking for a way through
                the solid space

                                              another crack
but nothing disturbs her breath in mouth open
                out for

                                              she is tired
from the lists erasing and replenishing scribbled on the
                kitchen cupboard door

                                              tired from
a menopause that delivers her fortnight-long periods
                loosing blood

                                              tired from
a dream career where you cannot pick up objects no matter
                how hard you try

                                              arms folded
across her tummy feet and legs crossed tanned
                with perky toes

                                              through
the window the sun falls like a dust of snow over
                the landscape

                                              let her sleep
anointed beautiful across her face her chest and
                her shin

 

 

 

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

being & doing wormhole: you fail
C wormhole: portrait … // … reading
career wormhole: you don’t talk to me
cathedral wormhole: flat
clouds wormhole: promenade
conservatory wormhole: as
dream wormhole: red / red / air
faces wormhole: August / Adventure
feet wormhole: poetry
kitchen wormhole: 1977
love wormhole: covert being
mouth wormhole: just
muse wormhole: thar she perched
roof & snow wormhole: from the / bedroom / window
Saturday wormhole: relief
silence wormhole: at the apex
sleep wormhole: the pleasant land / of counterpane
sound wormhole: greeyn
space wormhole: patronage
sun & wind wormhole: the sun / in a clean / industrial / sky
windows wormhole: from the / bedroom / window

 

winter / weeks

Tags

'scape, 2009, 4*, combe end, conservatory, doors, fly, open, sky, time, trees, winter

dedicated to Linda Redwine who graced the sphere with her blog for a few months and then suddenly disappeared 060512 – where have you gone, Linda!

 

 

 

                                                              winter
                                              weeks

                           since I have used
                           the conservatory

                           a fly buzzed
                           once   somewhere

                           I opened the door
                           it flew into the sky

                           and dropped into
                           the trees

 

 

 

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

combe end wormhole: through the window // it doesn’t matter
conservatory wormhole: 9:05
doors wormhole: door ajar
open wormhole: window open
sky & trees wormhole: ‘small town busy …’
time wormhole: noticeably