• 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
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    • Batman
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    • 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
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mlewisredford

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

mlewisredford

Tag Archives: self-containment

stuck in lower realm

08 Sunday Apr 2018

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2017, 6*, anatta, Bodhisattva Vow, Bodhisattvacharyavatara, buffalo, choice, identity, karma, lifetimes, morality, perfect human rebirth, perspective, rebirth, self, self-containment, snake, spontaneity, thought

                stuck in lower realm

                … OK

                when in woeful state
                I grunt like a buffalo
                and sting like a snake

                but when human
                I have the choice
                to exercise: I – won’t –

                do – that; except the
                swarm ‘oh, it doesn’t
                matter’ or the won’t-

                think-but-lunge-in-
                thrill-of-spontaneity;
                every time I acquiesce

                I create propensity to
                tip to wrong perspective,
                which predisposition

                magnifies as a whole
                realm of being after
                this human is done;

                but for a silent vow
                I made despite my-
                selves and which I

                keep despite myself
                to hold myself to check,
                is my only identity

 

Bodhisattvacharyavatara VII, 19

 

 

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

identity wormhole: growth
lifetimes wormhole: looking ahead
thought wormhole: turned backs of saddened victory

 

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

02 Friday Dec 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 4 Comments

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

title-ah-oh-meanwhile-tha-ya-ta

 

ah

 
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!”

 

oh

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

 

meanwhile

 
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 –

 

tha-ya-ta

 

 
                      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

 

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returning home handsome

12 Wednesday Oct 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2016, 6*, airport, attention, awareness, being, black, city, damson, daughter, feet, laughing, listening, Malaga, mother, muse, portrait, red, self-containment, shoes, table, talking, waiting, writing

                returning home handsome

                and you are city-smart
                pony tail, black jacket
                perfect haemoglobin nails
                not too long, waiting

                with your mother in her
                damson beret at the airport
                attentive at the table
                listening to her with sheer

                ankle socks – well, they’re
                practical! – such strong feet
                stood up out of comfortable
                slipper-shoes – heel arch

                ball knuckle toe pointed
                or fabulously wrinkled with
                every parenthesis – that they
                do not realise I am writing

                this poem, and don’t need to,
                with concluding laugh

 

 

 

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

attention & writing wormhole: time
awareness wormhole: and smile / like a bud
being & city & muse wormhole: “The Lady from Nowhere”
black wormhole: the 19th century
daughter wormhole: finding my own true nature – Plumstead, Woolwich, 190915
feet wormhole: reaching branch
listening wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – … as the new town marches in
mother wormhole: hello, luvvey, do you want a cup of tea?
red & table wormhole: magnificent salad
talking wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – Safe Home
waiting wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – introdepthion

 

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the Big Stage

17 Monday Feb 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

2012, 4*, being, career, doing, self-containment, sitting, talking to myself, teaching, the Prisoner

 

 

 

                                      never
                                      ever
                                be tempted to act
                                on the Big Stage
                                      again

                                the Big Stage is the
                                      Enemy it is
                                      Smoke & Mirrors it is
                                      Portmeirion

                                be collected and          sitting
                                self-contained             breathing
                                in your classroom       cushion
                                teaching                      being

 

 

 

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

being & doing wormhole: in verse / question / m a r k ?
career wormhole: Teaching career: much like Monet’s ‘Impression: soleil levant’
sitting wormhole: practising
talking to myself wormhole: and
teaching wormhole: responsible

 

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again

23 Thursday Jan 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ Leave a comment

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

 

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cupboards

15 Wednesday Jan 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

2012, 3*, childhood, living, self-containment

 

 

 

                           cupboards

                           on the landing
                on the turn of the stairs
                to store your linen and brushes away
                           not inscrutably
                but tidy where they belong all ready
                           for when they are
                           needed

 

 

 

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

childhood wormhole: the cheaper seats
living wormhole: not that close

 

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treasure

16 Monday Sep 2013

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

2011, 3*, awareness, being, doing, dwelling, heart, self-containment, talking to myself, zazen

 

 

 

                                              treasure

                                              right

                                              here each
                                              heartbeat
                                              complete
                                              dwelling
                                    in       unnoticed
                                  act        mundane
                                  act        unglamorous
                                  act        unseen
                                  act
                                              not heroic
                                              not influential
                                              makes it
                                  big       because it
                                              happens and
                      significant       because
                                              it is simply
                                              done

 

 

 

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

awareness & talking to myself wormhole: here
being & doing wormhole: chores to do – diptych
zazen wormhole: what?

 

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for the good of all

19 Sunday May 2013

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2011, 3*, AfL, being, career, giving, markbook, self-containment, teaching

 

 

 

                                at some points in time
                                I made a markbook
                                I conceived levelled-lessons and learning
                                but then I expected there to be an
                                inevitable way to their propagation
                                for the good of all (for the Good of All)
                                but all that actually happened
                                was I used my markbook
                                I taught my lessons
                                and in these ways I worked
                                the good of all
                                moment after moment
                                no glory no flag just
                                the noble tumbleweed

 

 

 

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

being wormhole: the / pyrrhic / play
career & teaching wormhole: wriving
giving wormhole: brilliance
markbook wormhole: covert being

 

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and of course

29 Thursday Dec 2011

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

2011, 4*, growth, isolation, self-containment, talking to myself

 

 

 

                                and of course

            I am not the Arguer
            I am not the One to be Feared
            I am not the Fighter
            I am not the Leader

            any acting out
            I lose all bearing
            I become obliged
            to find bearing in
            a corporate that
            is not my own
            fish out of water

            I take the background role
            anonymous self-contained
            if I stop myself being seduced
            by the glamour …

            practise
            what I
            am awk
            ward diffi
            cult but act
            ually mo
            re wide
            ly focus
            sed in
            tegrate
            d con
            structive
            than the
            most pre
            scribed
            plan

 

 

 

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

talking to myself wormhole: divorce

 

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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

recent leaks …

  • under the blue and blue sky
  • sweet chestnut
  • ‘she shook the sweets …’
  • YOUNG WOMAN AT A WINDOW by William Carlos Williams
  • meanwhile
  • a far grander / Sangha
  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara: Chapter VII, Joyous Effort – verse 8; reflectionary
  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara: Chapter VII, Joyous Effort – verse 7; reflectionary
  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara: Chapter VII, Joyous Effort – verse 6; reflectionary & verses 3-6 embroidery
  • silence

Uncanny Tops

  • Moebius strip
  • me
  • YOUNG WOMAN AT A WINDOW by William Carlos Williams
  • 'I can write ...'
  • meanwhile
  • like butterflies on / buddleia
  • covert being
  • 'hello old friend ...'
  • To my Mum
  • start where you are I

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