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    • Chapter 9
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mlewisredford

~ may the Supreme and Precious Jewel Bodhichitta take birth where it has not yet done so …

mlewisredford

Tag Archives: revolution

passing

06 Wednesday Feb 2019

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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2018, 5*, passing, realisation, revolution, train, wind turbines

                passing
                side-on to
                the turbine
                blades a

                whole cut
                is made
                clean to the
                revolution

                generated
                before I
                realise what
                has happened

 

 

 

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

passing wormhole: it’s / not what you do or what you say / if it ain’t got that swing
realisation wormhole: The Passage of the St. Gothard, 1804
train wormhole: early // Minoan & Mycenaean Exhibitions in the British Museum – diptych

 

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beepbeep

31 Monday Oct 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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1960s, 1967, 2016, 7*, abandonment, colour, commentary, courage, crying, Dad, depression, direction, divorce, driving, evening, eyes, feeling sorry for myself, freedom, groundlessness, Have, home, hope, identity, life, light, looking, now, others, passing, people, pointlessness, purpose, renunciation, revolution, sense of self, sex, sign, sound, texture, time, true nature, Victoria & Albert Museum, world

                                did Dad leaving
                                trigger my sense of revolution or
                my sense of depression
that there is no purpose
                                in the world
                that I would eventually have to find the courage
to face those new tremors,
                                but five years on,
                                                there, between the given textures
                already cheap and fraying

                                or did revolution trigger Dad to leave
                                                                and find some other way
                                                                                to find some truer nature?

                -O~~~

                                I didn’t want the headphones, now
                                I didn’t want the commentary
                                                all safely wrapped and bordered
                                                                so I kept my own eyes
                                                                open and saw 50 year old memorabilia
                                                                                strangely mute, now
                                                                                despite the peacock-print

                                                and little in between
                                                                save shuffling overcoats with
                                                                no sense of direction where to go
                                                                                save their right of individual                
                                                                                                                way

                                                                                                ~~~O-

                                I don’t think I want the revolution
                                anymore –
                                                away with your awkward sex! –
                I want to know the innate freedom
                                I trust I have already,
                                                save for my sense of right of way

                                                                I cried for fifty years later that evening
                                                it is hard to lose your way returning home
                                                                cut up and turning in circles
                                                                                hoping for the right lane
                                                                                                lights on and direction to go                
                                                                                                                everywhere
                                                                                                signed
                                                                and passing overhead
                                                                it is hard to arrive
                                                toe to toe
                                                                with a fifty year old overcoat
                                with no face
                                but a blinking eye
and me with no headphones

                                                                beepbeep

 

on 30th October 2016, I visited the Victoria & Albert Museum exhibition @You Say You Want a Revolution’ – Records and Rebels 1966-1970 (a birth day present, thank you, Carol); my Dad left our family on 2nd November 1967, my eighth birthday, and the divorce became final by 1969; I think it was Brigitte Bardot who said something about the ‘tremors’ which were felt in the late 60s, but few who had the ‘courage’ to face them, but I can’t seem to find the quote verbatim; we got a bit lost, at first, driving back from west London

 

 

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

abandonment & Dad & people wormhole: chartless …
depression wormhole: the both passive and transitive / non-presumptive pre-conceptualist attenuation of being
divorce wormhole: 1967
evening & identity wormhole: sleep now
eyes & life & sound wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – snow
groundlessness & pointlessness wormhole: [once a] dilemminal [always a dilemminal]
Have wormhole: Doctor Strange III – the needs of billions
light wormhole: adjustment
looking wormhole: Clea
others & passing wormhole: passersby
renunciation wormhole: escape from Flat Planet
texture wormhole: zazen
time wormhole: the too big moon
world wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – Snow

 

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poessay VII: // true revolution

06 Tuesday May 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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2010, 2013, 6*, being, breathing, doing, emotion, emptiness, living, others, poessay, reality, revolution, Sartre, sitting, talking to myself, thought

 

 

 

                                              poessay VII:

                                              true revolution
                                is in the mind
                                              it starts as Sartre said
                                when you say no but does not
                                              inevitably
                                become transitive action
                                              denying for others
                                              denying through others
                                                              that would be a violence
                                a personal experience made to shape another’s reality no

                                              the no
                                              actually
                                isn’t even a denial more an
                                              acknowledgement
                                              more a watching
                                more a not-becoming-beguiled-in-it
                                              not becoming en-guiled
                                                              by not caging reality
                                                              by not declaring reality by it
                                by not ‘avving a word’ so

                                              what is it
                                that you say no to?
                the eternal tapestry of thoughts and emotions
                                which are the froth of reality
                                but not the reality itself
                                              once it has all settled
                                                              of its own accord
                                                                                 the form is emptiness
                and all the thoughts and feelings that tessellate during sitting
                                              which are noticed – thinking –
                                              and let go – breathing –
                                                              return to the emptiness that they never left

                                              sitting
                                is practising revolution
                                              like a Moebius strip
                                              and so is
                                living
                afterwards

 

 

 

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

being & doing & living & talking to myself wormhole: the pocket
breathing wormhole: ‘til death do us part
emptiness wormhole: multifarious: the Dark Knight Returns (1986)
others wormhole: silent crash // … / after all
poessay wormhole: poessay VIII: / educational behaviourism
reality wormhole: I glimpse above the rooftops
sitting wormhole: the en-gentled / end of a wan / writing retreat
thought wormhole: words

 

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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

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  • YOUNG WOMAN AT A WINDOW by William Carlos Williams
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