my / superpower

Tags

2011, ambiguity, Batman, Beast, Buddhanature, Daredevil, dilemma, disempowerment, distrust, Dr Strange, emptiness, Hulk, identity, ignominy, ingenuity, insight, Kryptonite, naïveté, poem, presence, prohibition, release, Spiderman, stealth, Superman, superpower, Thor, tragedy, wisdom

 

 

 

                                               my
                                superpower

                I am not implacable like Superman
                                              which is both my own Kryptonite
                                and my own presence

                I am not grim like the Batman
                                              which is both my own Tragedy
                                and my own wisdom

                I am not angry like the Hulk
                                              which is both my own Ignominy
                                and my own stealth

                I am not strange like Stephen
                                              which is both my own Ambiguity
                                and my own naïveté

                I am not a human god like Thor
                                              which is both my own Dilemma
                                and my own ease

                I am not webbed in moral struggle like Spiderman
                                              which is both my own Disempowerment
                                and my own ingenuity

                I am not fore-sighted like Daredevil
                                              which is both my own Prohibition
                                and my own insight

                I am not mellifluent like the Beast
                                              which is both my own Distrust
                                and my own poem

                                no,

                                no

                                my super power
                                is far far greater
                                than all of these

 

 

 

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

Batman wormhole: early evening
Daredevil wormhole: now, the verticals go down as well as they go up
disempowerment wormhole: tag cloud poem V – draft-ness
Dr Strange wormhole: Doctor Strange I – the trashcan tilted the better to see now the street
emptiness wormhole: tag cloud poem IX – haiku is awkward / the more that is left in / like uncombed hair
identity wormhole: need
naïveté wormhole: true nature
Superman wormhole: sit
superpower wormhole: exactly equal
Thor wormhole: song of irrelevance

 

exactly equal

Tags

2013, doing, equilibrium, experience, gentleness, posture, practice, settling, sitting, superhero, superpower, talking to myself, weight

 

 

 

                important to settle gently into sitting
                                              (into doing)
                                not heroically like a superpower but with
                                cold
                                brass
                                weight
                exactly equal to the experience and posture in the cup
                                                                                 on the opposite end
                                                              of the arm

 

 

 

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

doing & practice wormhole: practice
posture wormhole: ambling around / the garden centre
settling & talking to myself wormhole: recovered
sitting wormhole: now, the verticals go down as well as they go up
superhero wormhole: escape from Flat Planet
superpower wormhole: just words wiped across a line

 

just words wiped across a line

Tags

2015, abandonment, angle, childhood, divorce, echo, Eglinton Hill, emergence, eyes, floorboards, identity, juxtaposition, Mum, pointlessness, seeing, speechless, superpower, tragedy, writing

 

 

 

                out of the numbness from nothingness
                                the tragedy that was drugged stable
                                but couldn’t speak
                                              the empty floorboards that held no echo

                a head reared and cast around
                                mouth sealed with a conjunctivitis
                                and eyes seeing all the angle and juxtaposition
                                              there was to see

                but found the power to leap buildings
                                and act with super human subtlety
                                but in lessening gradations of effect until
                                              just words wiped across a line

 

 

 

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

abandonment & childhood & divorce & Eglinton Hill & eyes & identity & Mum wormhole: 1959 –– MANHATTAN –– 2012
echo wormhole: the echo of / a small box
emergence wormhole: tag cloud poem VIII – growth
pointlessness wormhole: new year’s eve 2014; train up to London to / walk the bridges across the Thames, and / listen to the voices say it is, and was, like, / but get back home before the fireworks / obliterate it all in the emptying twilight
seeing wormhole: crumpled / notebooks / at the end of a gentle retreat
superpower wormhole: wakey wakey / time to get up
writing wormhole: “out of step is useful because / that means you get to notice / what others have missed; out / of line is no use to anyone”

 

wakey wakey / time to get up

Tags

2005, 2006, 2012, 8*, acceptance, breathing, childhood, divorce, dream, Eglinton Hill, Genesta Road, Geshe Kelsang, growth, identity, LamRim, lifetimes, love, Manjushri, meditation, Mum, muse, night, speech, stone, superhero, superpower, tv

 

 

 

                                                                      wakey wakey
                                                                      time to get up

 

                                              I

                                   I left my eight year old
                                   in Eglinton Hill*
                                   he wandered the rooms
                                   looking for Daddy

                                   he wasn’t ready to leave
                                   when we all left
                                   ‘I’m sure he’s here somewhere …
                                    didn’t see him … look again’

                                   I looked for meaning instead
                                   in Genesta Road**
                                   while he gazed sideways
                                   into rooms

                                   ‘Mum found me wandering one night
                                    I stayed and watched tv with her’
                                   up late at night finding possibility
                                   after lifetime finding thought

                                   I roamed superhero worlds
                                   and wore superhero stances
                                   against the invisible enemy
                                   wherever he appeared

                                   I found new superpowers
                                   distilled from the immediate
                                   music poetry art religion
                                   ingenious hope to salve the day

                                   but my battles never happened
                                   my victories never came
                                   the whale continued gliding past
                                   ‘… maybe look upstairs again’

                                   my face was always masked
                                   my self was never found
                                   I was haunted by an eight year old
                                   and Eglinton Hill

                                   go back home and find him
                                   take him by the hand
                                   c’mon boy let’s go outside
                                   show me what you found

                                              II

                                   when moments are bland
                                   I sit in the dark
                                   and look to find
                                   what everyone has missed

                                   when I abstract out
                                   I can trip and skip
                                   with a hundred ideas
                                   that hang together

                                   so well
                                   they ‘get’ the world
                                   more than ‘being’ the world
                                   I prefer them

                                   they take me on a groove
                                   they weave me in a tapestry
                                   always slightly aslant
                                   always slightly after

                                   but never where I am
                                   averse to where I am
                                   nothing bad nothing evil
                                   nothingness

                                   these take-me-aways
                                   these dark glowing colours
                                   these resolved phrasings
                                   building the relief

                                   of a Perfect Human Rebirth
                                   before Death takes it away
                                   before Habit seals it in amber
                                   before Fame echoes away

                                   this emptiness of my life
                                   was it produced by my lives
                                   or is it the breath I have held
                                   for too long

                                              III

                                   and here I sit in meditation
                                   with thoughts like Woodstock
                                   proliferating
                                   everywhere

                                              IV

                                                              dream 240606

                                              back at the Priory***
                                moved on in twenty years
                                              still lots of people
                                              large open rooms
                                pass Geshe-la**** in the corridor
                we exchange ‘hallo’ we recognise each other nothing awkward
                                              he is in robes
                but as I turn to look back
                                he is in tweeds and looking for something
                he is involved in something else

                                              I am in a room
                                              there is menace danger
                                a demon
                a sort of old god appears in the room
                                it is short but finely built an air of power
                                with a stone mask over its face
                and a stone club stood on the floor
                                hands resting on it relaxed
                                he is looking at me
                                              slightly sideways
                                I am going to have to face it
                                              here in the room
                we engage in a Captain Kirk-type battle
                                              I am on top
                and I am hitting the demon repeatedly
                                in the face
                                it is a girl’s face
                as I hit the demon it loses its appearance
                                and becomes a girl
                when I have beaten the demon out
                                I cradle the girl
                                I love her
                                I have saved her
                                              I pick her up
                I will heal her
                                              I will care for her
                                gently

 

 

 

______________________________________________________
* In 1961 my brother was born, in 1962 my grandmother lost her husband, in 1963 we all moved into a house on Eglinton Hill.
** When I was eight my father just left the family and left my mother and grandmother to bring us up. In 1971 we moved to a smaller house in Genesta Road
*** Priory – Conishead Priory, known as Manjushri Institute, in Cumbria on the shores of Morecambe Bay. A Buddhist college; lived there 1983-1984.
**** Geshe-la – affectionate honorific used for the teacher, Geshe Kelsang Gyatso. I moved from the Priory to begin my career twenty years previous to this dream.

 

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

acceptance wormhole: I didn’t see it coming
breathing wormhole: becoming old
divorce wormhole: Grandad / Redford
dream wormhole: Dr Strange #6-13
childhood wormhole: “bring in as many / different kinds of leaf / as you can find”
Eglinton Hill wormhole: from my childhood
Genesta Road wormhole: 1976
identity wormhole: mirror
lifetimes wormhole: brave new world?
love wormhole: what …
meditation wormhole: … I think that / just about wraps / things up
Mum wormhole: oh
muse wormhole: silence
night wormhole: only
speech wormhole: ”whatdoyouwantmylove…’ on the train …’
stone wormhole: there
superhero wormhole: Woolwich Central – / making life better II
tv wormhole: 1969
superpower wormhole: and no one would know

 

and no one would know

Tags

2008, 5*, Batman, bodhisattva, comics, Daredevil, growth, Iron Man, Superman, superpower, talking to myself

 

 

 

I am not blind – but if I could tune my senses as if I were I could be
      superhuman
            and no one would know
my parents were not shot down before me but if I could hold tight and
      always to what is right I could be immovable
            and no one would know
I may not have shrapnel near my heart but if I could create with
      what is to hand I could transform the world
            and no one would know
I may not come from another world but if I live here I could leap
      buildings with a single bound
            and no one would know

 

 

 

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

Batman & comics wormholes: the Bat-parent
Superman & Daredevil wormhole: my / superpower
superpower wormhole: divorce
talking to myself wormhole: pattern

 

divorce

Tags

2011, 3*, divorce, growth, identity, superpower, talking to myself

 

 

 

                                want consideration
                                want to exchange ideas
                and work like a conversation
                but I cannot communicate
                                with anyone

                                from the first
                                there always was a divorce
                between how the world is and
                what people say how things are not
                                what people mean

                                but to recreate myself
                                moment by moment
                and not let the old show run and run
                that would keep them on their toes
                                that would be a superpower

 

 

 

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

divorce wormhole: 1968
identity wormhole: you
talking to myself wormhole: mild darshan