• 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
    • askance From Hell
    • 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
    • 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
    • Q-T pie
    • U-Z together forever
  • me
  • others
    • William Carlos Williams
  • poemics
  • poeviews
  • teaching matters
  • wormholes

mlewisredford

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

mlewisredford

Tag Archives: warp

pursued

09 Wednesday Jan 2019

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, poeviews

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1970, 2018, 5*, Batman, branches, cape, doors, fingers, growth, history, holding, land, legacy, opening, purpose, questioning, reaching, responsibility, shadow, society, warp, weft, white, wings

                the clench of cape
                into wing opens heavy doors

                into questioning
                that will be pursued despite

                occasion of legacy
                billowing in after-tow o’er

                hill and vale
                and where leafless branches

                reach, fixed
                in growth, it is fingers will

                pull beyond
                the furl and flack to present

                as white shadow
                in response

 

Detective Comics #403, September 1970, “You Die By Mourning” by Frank Robbins and Bob Brown

 

 

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

Batman wormhole: ‘streetsigns …’
branches & history wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – Trees
doors wormhole: A Solitude by Denise Levertov
shadow wormhole: on facing the Have
society wormhole: {reading right to left}
white wormhole: SPRING AND ALL XXII by William Carlos Williams

 

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a nice grey woollen picnic blanket

25 Tuesday Jul 2017

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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2013, 6*, Ashdown Forest, blanket, Bodhisattva, cars, children, driving, feeling, finding, grey, responsibility, roads, safety, sentient beings, sun, talking to myself, teaching, trees, warp, weft, wool

                                              OK
                                I think I get it:
                a nice grey woollen picnic blanket

                                I found the grey
                when crossing the road for the umpteenth time
                                safely

                                I felt the wool
                when I finally allowed that cars will keep driving
                along the road, well where else could they
                                go?

                                I suspect
                that there might be a fascinating check design
                in the warp and the weft but I am too busy
                to explore this now backward and forward across
                                the road

                                there
                are some trees and a sunny glen over there
                I can spread the blanket wide and enjoy
                the meal I carry heavy on my back there
                right after I have crossed my hundred thousand children
                                safely

                                one
                by one as they pop up to the side of the road, w-hupp, here’s
                                another one

 

 

 

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

Ashdown Forest wormhole: memorial
cars wormhole: municipal garden
grey wormhole: every step I take
roads wormhole: 1968
sun & trees wormhole: while
talking to myself wormhole: free
teaching wormhole: ‘let them slide off …’

 

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lesson from watching two crane flies work the evening / skating across the panes flying and pushing legs grappling / the glass crossing repulsive over themselves and clinging akimbo / for a rest until lifeless just to get their stickly bodies through to the light

06 Tuesday Jun 2017

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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2013, 7*, apple tree, awareness, being, blue, breeze, Castleton, death, doing, eggs, evening, feeling, feet, flying, glass, holiday, kitchen, leaves, life, light, living, mindfulness, placement, table, warp, weft

                lesson from watching two crane flies work the evening
                skating across the panes flying and pushing legs grappling
                the glass crossing repulsive over themselves and clinging akimbo
                for a rest until lifeless just to get their stickly bodies through to the light

                                it is so sweet and simple
                                what I have to do: the keep
                                of mind on what I do the
                                turning of the lens until
                                what I am and what I do
                                are so clear and resplendent
                                that I can see each thread
                                of the warp and weft of the
                                blue gingham cloth hanging
                                over the edge of the wicker
                                basket holding speckless-
                                shaped eggs four to welcome
                                us to the holiday cottage

                back to Castleton two years on, cool feet on the fresh-laid flooring
                fresh breeze through the leaves of the apple tree
                but the drop-leaf table in the kitchen
                is mine all mine

 

 

 

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

awareness wormhole: redundant
being wormhole: too much in arrival
blue wormhole: ssreet chak-chak
breeze wormhole: in the / Citadel / Park / a leaf / new / ly fell
Castleton wormhole: on the raised patio reading Plath
death & life wormhole: stone
doing wormhole: prelude: // travel
evening wormhole: south horizon
feet wormhole: six paramitas
glass wormhole: Salisbury Cathedral // suspended in everything
holiday wormhole: holiday
kitchen wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – snow
leaves wormhole: monument to vainglory
living wormhole: wasted –
table wormhole: retirement

 

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writing: // in turn

01 Sunday Jan 2017

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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2017, 6*, breathing, karma, light, love, mother sentient beings, painting, rebirth, Shantideva, sharing, sibling, sight, twilight, warp, weft, writing

                writing:

                to the extent
                that I brush

                with warp and
                with weft with

                light and with
                crepuscule with

                sight and with
                love may any

                lost sibling
                and all of my

                mothers of
                equal humour

                as we have
                shared breathe

                awhile together
                in turn

 

Bodhisattvacharyavatara chapter I, verse 3; IF we are reborn, for each rebirth we would need a mother to give that birth to us and to bring us up; if we have had former rebirths without beginning, we have had infinite mothers – good, bad and indifferent; were ARE all these former mothers now …?; and what has this to do with writing (or any other creative endeavour)?

 

 

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

breathing wormhole: 1966
light & writing wormhole: the silent night of the Batman
love wormhole: ah … // oh … // meanwhile … // … // tha ya ta …
Shantideva wormhole: passersby
twilight wormhole: relief

 

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carpet worn / to the backing – poewieview #30

22 Friday Jul 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, poeviews

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2016, 4*, Bowie, breeze, carpet, charcoal, clouds, grey, horizon, life, trees, warp, weft

                                   carpet worn
                                   to the backing

                                   warps and wefts
                                   blew through
                                   leafing trees while

                                   charcoal belly
                                   of cloud hung
                                   below the horizon

 

the continuance of birth: Kooks, 1971

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

 

 

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

Bowie wormhole: trellis / and wisteria – poewieview #29
breeze & trees wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] by Mark L. Redford – from arm to nature, doing nothing
carpet wormhole: Michael Redford: triptych
clouds & grey & life wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – On Doing Nothing
horizon wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] by Mark L. Redford – moment

 

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tong len / the inauguration of another – timely – butter fly effect / taking and giving

23 Wednesday Mar 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2014, awareness, cause and effect, crap, giving, letting go, red, sitting, story, taking, talking to myself, thinking, tonglen, warp, weft, white, world, worth

 

 

 

                                tong len
                the inauguration of another – timely – butter fly effect
                                taking and giving

                                every time I notice
                ‘thinking’, I’ll take the hit and, like a hair out of hot butter,
                                I let it go

                                and another
                complex storyline a-sunders somewhere
                                in the middle

                                some place
                in my world, somehow in the world
                                and even when

                                I don’t notice
                ‘thinking’ and I warp and I weft cold red-edged
                                with hot-white

                                I’ll still know
                I had a crap session, a crap day
                                and the story

                                lines won’t
                quite reach a cliff hanger
                                to be continued

                                I can think
                ‘a good job done’ and let it go, give
                                it out

                                for all its worth and
                                for all it’s worth and
                                for all the worth that is

 

 

 

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

awareness wormhole: b / r / e / a / t / h / i / n / g
compassion wormhole: finding my own true nature – Plumstead, Woolwich, 190915
giving wormhole: teached / in the ass
letting go wormhole: really really
red wormhole: don’t look / at her eyes – poewieview #18
sitting wormhole: Shonagh – poewieview #17
talking to myself wormhole: dear clown’s face
thinking wormhole: really
white wormhole: quick inventory after coffee
world wormhole: just saying, is all IV: // lost

 

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the sounds of 1969 // [would have] seemed that way – poewieview #13

25 Thursday Feb 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, poeviews

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

1969, 2016, accountability, appearance, ascent, becoming, being, Bowie, chords, clouds, coalescence, counting, crescendo, dawn, doing, doors, earth, echo, fall, gods, history, horizon, kitchen, looking, loss, lost, love, neighbourhood, people, possibility, rocket, silence, society, sound, stillness, streets, stumbling, suburbia, travelling, trees, up, variation, warp, weft, wish, years

                                   … oh,

                      here it comes again, between
                      the warp and weft of chording;
                      all the engines of thrust, all
                      the snare of history, all propulsion

                      `round various turnings, trails
                      left vaporising; counting … up
                      to crescendo, looking up to tread,
                      to lacunae; to ascend is to lose,

                      to step through that door: fall/
                      ascent mean nothing off-sphere;
                      tumult of horizon sitting in my
                      kitchen, stumbling on my planet,

                      there’s nothing I can do: there
                      are – so – many – more – chords,
                      variants on a minor, travelling to
                      where we are all along, feeling

                      very still … lost where we all are;
                      the sounds of 1969 looked very
                      different today – loved-up, peopled-
                      up, gods upped be-coming – up;

                                          ~O~~~

                      down the slippey ascension of wish,
                      up to the echoing boroughs of cloud-
                      bank, where the damp damp dawn
                      falls silent to urban horizon, higher

                      for to widen the neighbourhood
                      streets and higher to deepen the road-
                      side trees; none of it didn’t, but it
                      [would have] seemed that way

 

filtered through grill of angst: Space Oddity, 1969, Cygnet Committee, 1969, Memory of a Free Festival, 1969

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

 

 

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

being & Bowie & doing wormhole: quite … / … yet – poewieview #12
clouds wormhole: dog bark
dawn wormhole: now, the verticals go down as well as they go up
doors wormhole: Seven A.M, 1948
echo & looking & people wormhole: 1966 … actually sic // of it allllll-bsssssssh – poewieview #8
history wormhole: London Park in Greenwich town – poewieview #5
horizon wormhole: com- / mute
kitchen wormhole: 1963
love wormhole: Grizedale College
silence wormhole: the open window
society wormhole: bookmark
sound & years wormhole: 1963
stillness wormhole: the windmill
streets wormhole: fine droplets / across the glass
travelling & trees wormhole: Saturday – poewieview #3

 

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quite … / … yet – poewieview #12

23 Tuesday Feb 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, poeviews

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1968, 2016, awkward, being, Bowie, childhood, doing, face, growing, identity, life, living, meaning, resolution, rhyme, rhythm, speech, talking to myself, warp, weft, words

                                                              `snot good enough cos I
                                                              `mnot old enough t`see                           `ow
                                              th’ wryme ‘n’ th’ whrythm’s wrought
                                              `tween `scend ing warp ‘n’
                                mended weft with
                                me errant word or me gloonfy face

                quite …
… yet

 

I don’t know how to what saying … London Bye Ta-Ta, 1968; When I’m Five, 1968; Ching A Ling, 1968; The Mask, 1968 … yet?

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

 

 

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

being & living & meaning wormhole: seventy two, perhaps – poewieview #9
Bowie wormhole: organ / sunlight in all our eyes – poewieview #11
childhood wormhole: 1963
doing wormhole: crescendoeing cascade of chordage – poewieview #10
identity wormhole: ‘my best writing happens …’
life wormhole: 1966 … actually sic // of it allllll-bsssssssh – poewieview #8
speech wormhole: really
talking to myself wormhole: when writing // stay
words wormhole: London Hearts – poewieview #4

 

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poessay X: soul love – poewieview #2

21 Thursday Jan 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, poeviews

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

2016, 7*, appearance, art, assimilation, asymmetry, Bowie, bread, butter, centrifugal, centripetal, chords, communication, defining, depression, dichotomy, eclectic, existence, gold, I, identity, illusion, inside, insight, leaves, liberation, living, love, meaning, music, naïveté, nose, octave, others, outside, piano, poessay, right & wrong, seeing, semantics, soul, superhero, syntax, warp, weft, words, world

                poessay X: soul love

                thin depression
                like butter over frozen bread
                when things go well, a shoulder tap,
                the superhero mask with no nose;

                somethings is not right
                outside or in, oneself aren’t what I thought, we
                just don’t co-ordinate as we should
                creating havoc with syntax; but there

                the gold, the outsight,
                that things isn’t quite right
                allows a cleaner, naïve sights of your leaves1 as long as ‘I don’t fit’
                doesn’t get in the way;

                maybe ‘things’ don’t exist as they appear (or,
                even, shouldn’t),
                that everything are wrong (with
                trans-dualistic semantic); where depression

                is trying to maintain an illusion in a world we did not create (‘wauuugh’),2            
                not proof that ‘we’ is wrong but insight
                to what ‘things’ truly is, and where
                art could be liberative,

                if communicative; which is why Bowie w/is
                important: no sense but the weft of asymmetry
                and the warp of dichotomy in … love
                for other/s-ness-eh city, where eclectic

                assimilation is the means of meaning, always
                far wider than defined, where chordings and octaves are
                centripuntal to word; or not …
                with damn good piano solo

 

1 this piece of work grew out of a conversation with Johnbalaya which we had over coffee and jam on toast one mornings in the pages of Powieviews; orange juice anyone?
2 an mlewisredford No-Prize if you can tell me which character’s strap-line this is; c’mon, c’mon …

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

 

 

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

Bowie & identity & naïveté wormhole: sixty four sixty five
communication wormhole: … the discipline of shamatha / the waft of vipashyana
depression & music wormhole: Poewieviews
gold & living & love wormhole: finding my own true nature – Plumstead, Woolwich, 190915
leaves wormhole: along
meaning & world wormhole: let the dreams / become the ghosts they / always were
others & piano wormhole: com- / mute
poessay wormhole: poessay IX – … just saying, is all II
seeing wormhole: Office at Night, 1940
superhero wormhole: sit
words wormhole: when writing // stay

 

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the warp and the plumbing

30 Wednesday Dec 2015

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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2013, business, comics, horizontal, Infantino, life, realisation, sound, speech, vertical, warp, work

 

 

 

                                              Carmine Infantino just took the job:

                                              he had already warped through negative space of horizontal
                                              he’d plumbed the vertical of realisation to the depth

                                there was a take-over
                                it’s not right but ‘we
                                were getting killed’

                “Jack1, who’s in charge?”   “You are!”   ‘POW!’
                … POW!?   ‘How do you like that one between the eyes!’

                                ‘life takes hold …
                                takes you where
                                you don’t expect
                                to go’

                                              so the warp and the plumbing
                                              came in very useful in the end

 

1 Jack Liebowitz, Publisher of DC Comics in the mid 1960s, gave Infantino the job of Art Director of the whole line of comics, then Editorial Director and eventually Publisher; in time he returned to his artwork once the management shifted gear to business …

 

 

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

comics wormhole: sit
[Carmine] Infantino wormhole: Detective Comics #345
life wormhole: Hotel Room, 1931
realisation wormhole: Chop Suey, 1929
sound wormhole: … the discipline of shamatha / the waft of vipashyana
speech wormhole: currency: / assent for statement – / ‘smakin’alivvin’
work wormhole: working / for a living

 

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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 …

  • “…and may the great elements…”
  • paisley // implicitly
  • this pocketed being
  • the inevitable tock // when we close our eyes
  • time
  • the simple prayer // the tattered poem // the bitter lament
  • taking birth
  • mirror
  • long / road
  • ‘in my car I pass…’

Uncanny Tops

  • me
  • Moebius strip
  • YOUNG WOMAN AT A WINDOW by William Carlos Williams
  • 'in my car I pass...'
  • 'the practice ...'
  • 'I can write ...'
  • like butterflies on / buddleia
  • meanwhile
  • 'hello old friend ...'
  • under the blue and blue sky

category sky

announcements awards embroidery poems poeviews reflectionary teaching

tag skyline

'scape 2* 3* 4* 5* 6* 7* 8* 20th century 1967 1979 1980 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 2015 2016 2017 2018 2019 acceptance afternoon air Allen Ginsberg anxiety architecture arm in arm attention awareness Batman beach beauty bedroom being birds birdsong black blue Bodhisattvacharyavatara books Bowie branches breakdown breathing breeze brown Buddha buildings career Carol cars change child childhood children city clouds coffee shop colour combe end comics communication compassion compromise crane creativity curtains dancing dark death distraction divorce doing doors dream Dr Strange earth echo Edward Hopper Eglinton Hill emergence emptiness evening eyes faces family father feet field floorboards garden Genesta Road girl giving glass gold grass green grey growth haiku hair hands Have hedge hill hills history holiday hope horizon house houses identity kitchen leaf leaves lemon letting go life lifetimes light lime listening living London looking lost love management managerialism mauve meaning mind mist moon morning mother mouth movement Mum muse music night notice open openness orange others park passing pavement people performance management pink Plumstead poetry pointlessness politics portrait posture power practice professionalism purple purpose quiet rain reaching reading realisation reality red requires chewing river roads roof rooftops samsara sea searching seeing settling shadow shops silence silhouette silver sitting sky skyline sleep smell smile snow society sound space speech step stone streetlight streets sun sunlight superhero table talking talking to myself teaching teaching craft Thames thinking thought time train travelling trees true nature university voices walking walls water waves white William Carlos Williams wind windows wood Woolwich words work world writing years yellow zazen

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