such such potential

Tags

2013, 5*, branches, breeze, brick, corridors, doors, future, labyrinth, mist, oesophagus, openness, potential, realisation, shadow, time, tired, walls

                tired

means that even the branches that reach bold into a future
only cast shadow on a brickwall
that all the doors of all the corridors stand open wide and reveal
the misty labyrinth
gusty and oesophageal
                                as they forever are and will be –

                                such such potential

                                              only as long as it is unrealised

 

 

 

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

branches & breeze wormhole: do I
doors wormhole: that comicbookshop … // … in dreams
mist & shadow wormhole: landscape of cloud over London / with differing depths of grey
openness wormhole: the goldilocks stance
realisation wormhole: the // orange rose
time wormhole: walk from Castleton to Hope
walls wormhole: too greedy

 

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the // orange rose

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

 

comfy

Tags

2016, 7*, basement, cafe, career, change, comfort, communication, doing, dream, Karmapa, letting go, lifetimes, past life, realisation, service, smile, thought, time

                comfy

                how did you think
                that I would not know
                what you are doing

                said the Karmapa; of
                course: and I had been
                acting despite that he

                might, so I dropped it
                all like a past life and
                nipped down to the

                dank basement to
                sort things out pursued
                by his head-shake smile;

                carried his drinks
                in the café, carried his
                bags when he carried out

                the stacked dishes before
                I even thought of it,
                simple service with no

                career prospects, all the
                busy and long day until
                things moved on beyond

                all recognition and
                I realised I was wearing
                his slippers; how will I

                get them back to him,
                remembering his lingering
                smile before I acted

 

retirement #4: from a dream had 16th-17th December, written down 171216; the present Karmapa is the 17th recognised incarnation; the sorry tale of Mark Redford and his Teachers; the forwarding ways

 

 

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

career wormhole: monument to vainglory
change wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – … as the new town marches in
communication wormhole: poessay III: jijimuge
doing wormhole: neither nude nor / descending a staircase
dream wormhole: sleep now
leting go wormhole: within
lifetimes wormhole: tired
realisation wormhole: ah … // oh … // meanwhile … // … // tha ya ta …
smile wormhole: Prajnaparamita // Maitreya
time wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – intemperance

 

ah … // oh … // meanwhile … // … // tha ya ta …

Tags

2016, 8*, being, breathing, child, clothes, colour, comics, despair, Dorian Gray, emperor, exclamation, exposed, flowers, Granada, hope, identity, inspiration, light, love, mantra, model, phrase, portrait, Prajnaparamita, rain, rainbow, realisation, retirement, secret, seeing, self, self-containment, self-image, speech, step, thread, tragedy, vanity, wandering, words, world

 

 
le mot just
the piquant phrase
                                         the simple model rising magnificent
                                         from cavalcades
                                         of stoic tumbling

                                         threads through like
                                         weave which clothes me
                                         presentable to the world …

                                         but no one sees the
                                         emperor’s clothes of
                                         such fine thread it cannot
                                         be seen, no wise child
                                         to point and exclaim
                                         the hang and drape
                                         to put an end to all step –
                                         “look, mummy, that man
                                           is not an emperor!”

 

 
less than naked
I am seen right through
                                         adrift of discourse
                                         I step with stubborn countenance,
                                         all the better to
                                         stare myself into existence,

 

 
awkward and
hidden away in some attic
                                         lest I lose [what I haven’t
                                         got] self-contained in trembling
                                         vanity, secretive in hope
                                         of things to come, desparate
                                         in tragedy that my grimy
                                         portrait might be seen …

 

 
wander, wander
around the flowers, smell
                                         their colour, breathe their
                                         light and let the light rain
                                         fall in shards of rainbow,
                                         cleansing with love –

 

 

 
                      om     ga – te     ga – te
                                      pa – ra – ga – te
                                                      pa – ra – sam – ga – te
                                                                      bo – dhi     so – ha

 

retirement #3 when in Granada … visit the Alhambra, and visit the Generalife gardens … [if you have booked up to three months ahead]; on the walk up to the palaces are trees and shrubs which are plenty-watered by sprinklers, in the morning sun the sprays will often catch a rainbow at their edge; the bordered captions in the poem are comic-conjunctives, there is a beginning, middle and end being told here, folks; the mantra: thaya tha om gate gate paragate parasamgate bodhi soha, is the mantra of Prajnaparamita, the Perfection of Wisdom; it can be somewhat semantically translated as “it’s like this: [everything is] gone, gone, completely gone, completely and perfectly gone with no loss, enlightened [dispersed, dispelled] all-right!”; but what’s ‘gone’: “the slings and arrows of outrageous romance” … of one’s self and the whole world positioned awkward to placate its mewling little story, as stolen by Joni Mitchell, who was talking too much at the time, from ‘Willy the Shake’;

 

 

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

being wormhole: pocket
breathing wormhole: within
child & light wormhole: this aching // and spacious dichotomy
comics wormhole: chartless …
identity wormhole: not / the Catcher
love wormhole: love and precision
rain wormhole: monument to vainglory
realisation wormhole: passing below
seeing wormhole: con / sum / mate
speech wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – snow
words wormhole: just saying, is all VI: // accountable / for my own outbreath / …
world wormhole: the skyline

 

passing below

Tags

2014, 5*, awareness, being, blue, cafe, gaze, life, notice, passing, realisation, sky, Storrington, streetlight, talking to myself, thought, traffic, windows, writing

                what do I want in life
                what shall I write

                but I gaze out the window
                across the streetlights hanging

                in the blue blue sky and
                realise I cannot keep the thought

                I already have in mind and
                need to take notice of the traffic

                passing below

 

 

 

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

awareness & writing wormhole: con / sum / mate
being & thought wormhole: within
blue & sky & talking to myself wormhole: love and precision
life wormhole: not / the Catcher
passing wormhole: balance
realisation wormhole: traffic lights and broad avenue
streetlight wormhole: sleep now
windows wormhole: this aching // and spacious dichotomy

 

traffic lights and broad avenue

Tags

1965, 2016, 6*, avenue, body, brick, buildings, clouds, Dr Strange, evening, eyes, face, grace, implication, manifestation, morning, mouth, place, realisation, storey, streets, sun, synchronicity, traffic lights, travelling, uncaused, will

                it is always the willed renege
                that let’s the face dislocate-
                hideous in full disclosure
                when implications emerge

                that the mouth no longer
                forms, the nostrils lose
                their boundary, the eyes no
                longer level, that the body

                fulfils its natural grace to
                tend to travel where point
                is cornered without street
                to edge and dwelling stands

                familiar as brick but
                stacked in storey and cipher
                whence cones and bolts will
                manifest but unoriginate

                `till squint is healed and
                morning cloud will shred
                the evening sun between
                traffic lights and broad avenue

 

not surprised by the camber of “The Demon’s Disciple!” by Lee & Ditko in Strange Tales#128, January 1965

 

 

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

buildings wormhole: fresh destiny
clouds wormhole: did I get old?
Dr Strange wormhole: Clea
evening wormhole: the 19th century
eyes wormhole: adjustment
morning wormhole: magnificent salad
mouth wormhole: a crack of lightning / in the dark of night
realisation wormhole: just one, open, nerve,
streets wormhole: through the pane – poewieview #34
sun wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – I suddenly / remembered
traffic lights wormhole: Christmas lights / around the lamp post
travelling wormhole: “The Lady from Nowhere”

 

just one, open, nerve,

Tags

2016, 6*, ageing, avidhya, Granada, identity, life, nerve, opaque, realisation, self, self-compassion, sense of self, the Three Poisons

                      I have a self
                      it is my self

                      a little capsule
                      grown in life –

                      whenever I noticed
                      every time I didn’t
                      each time I wouldn’t

                      a sliver at first
                      twisted once
                      but never looped

                      back to feed,
                      no helix to hold,
                      just one, open, nerve,

                      preserved in cartilage
                      opaque: hit it
                      you bounce, cut it

                      you slip, ignore it
                      it withers leaving
                      a baggy sheath

                      time now, quickly,
                      to make amends

                      time now
                      to connect the ends

 

 

 

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

life & realisation wormhole: moment
identity wormhole: new-found love – poewieview #36

 

moment

Tags

2012, 7*, compassion, detachment, life, love, mind, moment, realisation, relief, settling, sitting, talking to myself, time, true nature

       I become better and better at sitting
       the more I realise I cannot settle
       even for a moment

       and when I realise just how much I cannot settle
       even for a moment,
       how the whole of my life is wound round

       and weaved through all of my time
       all of the time that I cannot settle
       even for a moment,

       what a relief –
       all this building all of this plotting all of these clever ripostes –
       I can detach from them all

       just for a moment

                 –o–

       may I dwell in this my true and only nature
       and may no one no one
       be missed out

 

 

 

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

compassion wormhole: reaching branch
life & time wormhole: cut while you’re ahead/cut while you’re a thread – poewieview #35
love wormhole: 35 years ago …
mind wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – On Doing Nothing
realisation wormhole: fresh destiny
settling wormhole: and smile / like a bud
sitting wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – A Sign of the Times
talking to myself wormhole: let it all go

 

fresh destiny

Tags

1963, 2016, 4*, buildings, choice, Dr Strange, echo, freedom, glass, green, karma, Nightmare, rain, realisation, society, soul, Stan Lee, Steve Ditko, Strange Tales, windows

                the effect of other
                hangs like water down a single pane
                over the soul: free it

                from bricks and mortar
                transport it across
                all the empty chasms of nightmare

                where there is no
                echo; there is always
                choice to realise within the green thickness

                of glass, there is
                always the turn of
                fresh destiny

 

dripped from “Dr. Strange Master of Black Magic!”, 1st appearance of Dr Strange in Strange Tales #110, July 1963 by Lee & Ditko

 

 

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

buildings wormhole: ‘hope for things to come’
Dr Strange wormhole: coagulating
echo wormhole: hello, luvvey, do you want a cup of tea?
glass wormhole: the figure “46” / in frosted glass
green & society wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – I suddenly / remembered
rain wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – Contents
windows wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – Safe Home

 

constant hummm

Tags

2016, 6*, air, arrival, being, Birmingham, buildings, city, compassion, curtains, echo, evening, hotel, laughing, loneliness, pavement, pink, realisation, salmon, searching, shops, sky, sound, speech, travelling, voices, walls

 

 

 

                           so we arrive
                           encased in the hotel
                           with constant hummm

                           or is it blown air
                           in the walls,
                           between buildings

                           eddying in a
                           pink-salmon sky
                           somewhere searching

                           for something from
                           which to bounce
                           to be; so, what to do in this

                           fair city: as the light falls
                           behind the curtains
                           voices claim and ex

                           and ‘ngaarrh’ and hack-saw-
                           laugh to company echo
                           from paviours and shops front

                           just slightly too late to
                           realise that we are all
                           just lonely, after all

 

 

 

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

air wormhole: first Spring storm
being wormhole: diligence
buildings wormhole: 1967
city wormhole: bavardage
compassion wormhole: finding my own true nature – Plumstead, Woolwich, 190915
curtains wormhole: 1968
echo wormhole: Hurst Green
evening wormhole: Michael Redford: triptych
hotel & sky wormhole: the missing chord // the now-silent seagull
pink wormhole: nothing to say
realisation & walls wormhole: Jericho
searching wormhole: and that’s where I are
shops wormhole: words tumble like / boulders – poewieview #25
sound & speech wormhole: currency of generations
travelling & voices wormhole: being in love – poewieview #26