• Bodhisattvacharyavatara
    • Introduction
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    • Chapter 4
    • Chapter 5
    • Chapter 6
    • Chapter 7
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    • Chapter 10
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    • 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
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    • in and out / the Avebury stones / can’t seem to get / a signal …
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mlewisredford

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

mlewisredford

Tag Archives: steel

London, 1809

07 Monday Jan 2019

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, poeviews

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

1809, 2019, 7*, breathing, buildings, century, clouds, columns, fields, gas, geomancy, gold, horizon, London, monolith, possibility, silver, sky, sphinx, steel, Thames, time, unicorn, west, William Turner

                there are monoliths built
                of unknowable antiquity

                scattered arcanely about
                the basin horizon,

                pillars of ribs help them
                breathe once a century,

                fields between have yet
                to be built; the Thames

                seethes gaseous silver
                while to the west a

                tarnished silver sphinx
                unicorn, hideous possibility,

                sits solitary as if a pack
                before the proscenium sky

                of gilded cloud steel and
                titan to all of time

 

London from Greenwich Park exhibited 1809 Joseph Mallord William Turner 1775-1851 Accepted by the nation as part of the Turner Bequest 1856 http://www.tate.org.uk/art/work/N00483

London, William Turner, 1809

 

 

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

breathing wormhole: blister on me thumb
buildings wormhole: ‘streetsigns …’
clouds & time wormhole: on facing the Have
gold wormhole: THE GREAT FIGURE by William Carlos Williams
horizon & London wormhole: early // Minoan & Mycenaean Exhibitions in the British Museum – diptych
silver wormhole: that
sky wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – pageant of the trees
Thames wormhole: Plumstead – Woolwich – Plumstead 220211

 

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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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tram

08 Friday Jun 2018

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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2017, 20th century, 6*, boulevard, buildings, concrete, ground, passing, people, progress, Rome, sound, steel, tram, tremors, wheel, windows

                                                                tram

                                tonnage
                                rollson rollsoff
                                each point of
                                steel wheel
                                on steel rail

                all along the boulevard
                                the floating boat of people
                                                making progress

                                broiling tremors
                                in the concrete
                                ground all around
                                and up the talling
                                windows

 

 

 

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

20th century wormhole: and ‘naerrgh’ a mention of a seagull’s call
buildings & windows wormhole: breakfast
passing & sound wormhole: letting them go
people wormhole: amniotic avenue

 

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prelude: // travel

01 Thursday Jun 2017

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2013, 6*, acceptance, castle, coffee, compassion, doing, driving, dust, field, green, Have, mist, motorway, passing, people, progress, self-compassion, sky, steel, stone, sunlight, tarmac, travelling, waking, wood

                                prelude:

                had a day to myself
                no work to do no family no obligation
                I could have built myself a castle stony to the sky
                but I did nothing to make my mark in the world
                nothing to house
                the sky

                and I felt strangely accepting of that
                a sort-of love really

                                travel

                woke-up stupid lack-slept
                but I have a certain love for myself
                and I get on with last-minute packing

                people, slaves in so many ways to Have
                but I have a certain love for myself
                and can accept us all to suffer our own coffees

                there is steel in all the greens and mist in all the sunlight
                the harvester shaves the field to dust and someone
                burns the wood to waft across the motorway

                but I have a certain love for myself and
                I let them all pass and while the rubber turns
                the tarmac I progress to a destination

 

 

 

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

acceptance & sky wormhole: stone
coffee wormhole: magnificent salad
compassion wormhole: so pleased to see you again
doing wormhole: wasted –
field & green wormhole: greedy
Have wormhole: beepbeep
mist wormhole: retirement
motorway wormhole: dawn
passing & travelling wormhole: handsome
people wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – agricultural show
stone wormhole: Salisbury Cathedral // suspended in everything
wood wormhole: the 19th century

 

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time

30 Wednesday Nov 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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'scape, 2013, 3*, buildings, crane, glass, grasshoppers, legs, London, steel, Thames, time, wind

                      time

                the giant grasshoppers
                      squatted
                and rubbed their hind legs
                      together

                two years later steel & glass
                      twisting
                pedestals swayed slightly
                      beneath
                      them

 

 

 

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

buildings wormhole: the skyline
crane wormhole: 1965
glass wormhole: poessay III: jijimuge
London wormhole: lonely and free
Thames wormhole: tag cloud poem IX – haiku is awkward / the more that is left in / like uncombed hair
time wormhole: pen and ruler
wind wormhole: monument to vainglory

 

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being in love – poewieview #26

14 Saturday May 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, poeviews

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

'scape, 1971, 2016, bardo, birth, blues, Bowie, clouds, desert, emptiness, family, green, grey, home, horizon, ineffable, lemon, life, lifetimes, love, mauve, mist, mountain, orange, rebirth, roots, sky, smoke, sound, speech, steel, travelling, voices, whisper

                                the wide wide landscape and the family tree
                                are just the same when found through mist;

                                blues rising from the homestead chimney
                                in the grey and green glade of, everwhere;

                                then everything stepped up over the far
                                mountains mauve of orange horizon

                                filled the sky to cross the desert in a
                                single bound; whispered sweet nothing

                                into my ear with heightened register as
                                the clouds pointed unutterably across

                                the lemon-steel sky, far too wide and grey
                                and blue to close my mouth, over;

                                I’ll have to levitate, ascend above the roots
                                of no return – tug-snapping, pull-holding snap –

                                you could see, there then, that this was not
                                about love this was all about being in love

 

just close your eyes: Lightning Frightening, 1971; Moonage Daydream, 1971

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

 

 

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

1971 & Bowie wormhole: words tumble like / boulders – poewieview #25
clouds wormhole: nothing to say
emptiness & lifetimes & sky & speech wormhole: too late:
family wormhole: finding my own true nature – Plumstead, Woolwich, 190915
green & grey & horizon & life wormhole: furl-reach
lemon wormhole: ‘went up to London and what did I see; …’ – poewieview #7
love wormhole: true nature
mauve wormhole: mauve
mist wormhole: fine droplets / across the glass
orange wormhole: like ink – poewieview #23
sound wormhole: fine
travelling wormhole: the sounds of 1969 // [would have] seemed that way – poewieview #13
voices wormhole: 1965

 

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London Hearts – poewieview #4

02 Tuesday Feb 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, poeviews

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1966, 2016, Bowie, brown, daylight, faces, father, growth, heart, identity, London, morning, mother, night, promenade, purple, railtrack, steel, streets, sunlight, windows, words, world

                                London Hearts

                                              – o –

                                              father’s – brown – world

                mum’s bare wind-ow

                                              – o –

                                soft steel tracking straight around
                into another night

                                and morning faces quick and aquiline
                make darts and words

                                that lace the daylight like the lamps
                along the promenade to

                                bask along the sunny side of where we’ve grown
                too much

                                until

                                I don’t – know – where, because
                the streets – aren’t – there

                                anymore

 

London Boys, 1966

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

 

 

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

Bowie & London & mother wormhole: ‘went up to London and what did I see; …’
brown wormhole: finding my own true nature – Plumstead, Woolwich, 190915
faces wormhole: ‘in clear oil air …’
father wormhole: spit / spot
identity wormhole: development
morning wormhole: New York, New Haven and Hartford, 1931
night wormhole: Office at Night, 1940
promenade wormhole: dream 260815
purple & windows wormhole: bamboo-green boiled sweet / with soft purple filling
streets wormhole: sixty four sixty five – poewieview #1
words & world wormhole: poessay X: soul love – poewieview #2

 

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“walking …”

01 Friday Jan 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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'scape, 2013, afternoon, Birmingham, blue, Bournville, city, green, grey, housing estate, lamp post, rain, sky, steel, sunset, walking

 

 

 

                           walking
                     in the afternoon
                     after the rain
                along the green in the housing estate
                     above the city

                     a single
                grey lamp post rose into the steel blue sky
                     but was not yet alight
                     where the sun had
                     already set

 

 

 

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

afternoon wormhole: Sunday afternoon
blue & city & green wormhole: the silent night of the Batman
grey wormhole: clouds
lamp-post wormhole: Christmas lights / around the lamp post
rain & sky wormhole: … the discipline of shamatha / the waft of vipashyana
sunset wormhole: Compartment C, Car 193, 1938
walking wormhole: portrait: / two pigeons

 

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clouds

14 Monday Dec 2015

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

'scape, 2013, birdsong, black, blue, boulders, candyfloss, clouds, drifting, frond, girder, gliding, gorge, green, grey, iced bun, incandescence, Independence Day, kettle, moss, National Geographic, pan, passing, pine, plume, sky, slow, snow, spaceship, steel, sun, swirls, washing up, wasp, water, waterfall, white

 

 

 

                                              clouds

                                sun fresh-laid snow grey
                                moss on boulders grey
                wisps of steel scourer grey
                                              kettle-plume greys
                                slightly bulging wide underneath of girder grey
                                new galvanised pan grey
                                                                gorge grey
                                black and white National Geographic waterfall grey
                                bowl of water after the washing up greys
                white billows beside the clear blue grey
                                speed-swirls drifting achingly slow grey
                                incandescent candyfloss grey
                                gliding in front of girth belt of grey
                                giant iced bun finger grey dropping
                                              undercarriage like a wasp grey
                                Independence Day invading spaceship grey
                                              where has all the birdsong gone grey

                all behind and above the green-dark silhouette of pine fronds

                                                                                 grey

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–
black wormhole: 2 pm
blue wormhole: Soir Bleu, 1914
clouds & grey & passing wormhole: portrait: / two pigeons
green & white wormhole: when in Belgium do as the chocolates do
pine wormhole: Ashdown Forest / 080213 14:47
sky wormhole: row boat
snow wormhole: now, the verticals go down as well as they go up
sun wormhole: com- / mute
water wormhole: sooner or later

 

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Le Pont des Arts, 1907

09 Monday Nov 2015

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, poeviews

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

1907, 2015, air, bridge, cream, Edward Hopper, grey, lemon, morning, Paris, passing, river, sea, sky, steel, sunlight, walking, wind, years

 

 

 

                           Le Pont des Arts, 1907

                           in 1907 girders were made
                           curved to span a river in
                           tempered sprung, perched
                           across pillars, a taut hold
                           of tonnage letting the

                           frozen strain of arched
                           air through which to sea,
                           allowing the first parting
                           for cream sunlight to
                           wash the quays a new day,

                           holding up ridiculous Way
                           for passers-over blown
                           full against over-clothes
                           regalia by the fithery grey
                           sky preparing lemon

 

 

 

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

air & grey & wind wormhole: sooner or later
bridge & Paris wormhole: The Louvre in a Thunderstorm, 1909
Edward Hopper & years wormhole: Western Motel, 1957
lemon wormhole: that comicbookshop in dreams,
morning wormhole: Morning in a City, 1944
passing wormhole: all along the blue sky
river wormhole: Bodiam Castle
sea wormhole: dream 230315
sky wormhole: hungry for a thread or two
sunlight wormhole: sit
walking wormhole: Sunday afternoon

 

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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

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  • 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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  • a far grander / Sangha
  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara: Chapter VII, Joyous Effort – verse 8; reflectionary
  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara: Chapter VII, Joyous Effort – verse 7; reflectionary
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