Poetry for Scientists
------------------------------- 1026/06 Buddha pointing to a flower answers the question: what is enlightenment? Didn't say a word, didn't pluck it. Just pointed. When the kicking and screaming are dragged to a goal not of their choosing, much is trampled underfoot. He could have said, nourish the life that springs up within you, or see enlightenment for yourself, or don't become Buddha, become the sun. ******* White Noise January 2002 Zero volume. Less maybe. Snowflakes: more silent than my anticipation, slowly pile up a flake at a time, sounding their power in numbers. The longer I stare, the louder it snows. What I hear has no beginning nor end. Hearing remains unmoving. If I stop looking, would it quiet things down? ******* Love and beauty is a Holy Place in a human being. Which act isn't aglow? Where does the miraculous cease? Where awareness and material intersect is a Holy Place, a matrix of love and beauty. Precious. ******* While in the material world, spirit does as the Romans do. Adapting to any form, it animates it, gives it life. We have the power to change the world. Make a better one. ******* 9/6/2000 Everyday we eat so much information, we go to bed with our heads full and get no rest. But when the tiniest bit lights up in your heart, you could be up all night long. ******* Neither This The world got a motor that's all. A simple motor to make things go. A gentle shove. We determine what, when, how. We paint it, add gears and pulleys; hook it up to transformers, transistors, transponders. No strings attached, just a simple motor. It's hard to find under the wires, coils and widgets. Still, everything moves because of it. Although much has been layered over, under and around, it churns on, driving the world onward, forward. If we finally manage to put everything in reverse, and completely convolute the natural world, no problem. Listen, a hum, that's all. ******* 12/15/02 The edge of the circle loves the center. We drift who knows where, held in by a beneficent gravity that keeps creating and celebrating our arrival. ******* |
Poems from the Heart
------------------------------- 1980 Below the noise and all the hustle, buried deep within, lies an energy supreme, from which all life begins. ******* The opposite of war isn't peace, it's sanity. ******* It could take a lifetime to discover that this is this. ******* Round Robin 12/10/05 The soft silence of snow... The hum of the universe within us. Without sound, the dark night. The soft silence of snow... The hum of the universe within us. Without sound the dark night. The soft silence of snow... The hum of the universe within us... ******* In View 9/24/03 The fly understood the light, but was baffled by the window. ******* There's a part of the stomach reserved for anguish. Where the heart is pulled out through the gut. A great and utter emptiness aches there making room for something essential to grow. ******* Solid. 10/8/07 Suppose our imaginaitons are greater than God's and we create endless possibilities not dreamed of in the kingdom where everything is known and good and we are satisfied. Without desire we have no limits. In our search for a greater satisfaction we get busy. We ask questions. We expect answers. Like: is eternity waiting at the end of infinity? See, a divine being wouldn't ask that. ******* Journal Entry 8/14/2000 Distracted from writing a poem about Buddha's non-attachment, I look up the symbolic meaning of the deer just appearing in my yard: gentle and related to the image of the Buddha. I know. Detaching from the feeling I'm in a special moment, I make tea and mindlessly dig out the coasters I was given months ago and never used before...deer images. I know. But how can I not? ******* Warrior 8/14/00 There's a day that begins before you rise from your bed: the dawn of your consciousness awakening. It waits for us at the end of sleep, and stays till our last nod. If you were to follow your breath without defeat for every moment between these two points, you would conquer death in a day. ******* God to the Nth 8/7/06 Even some Gods must learn the way to peace. If you have a vengeful God, teach forgiveness and understanding. If your God would have you kill thy neighbor, humbly show there's another way. If your God sits as a judge before you, choose the one who sees only goodness. If your God needs to be bought with prayers, might you like another who always has you at heart? Choose another God. Teach God love. ******* |
Observations
------------------------------- Always Has 11/2/13 "Be here now." You can save them you know, for then. Put them away for another time: Now-Banking. You deposit them into the future. Many in the past have been stashed away for later. Days, weeks sometimes, full of present moments, gone unnoticed, banked. They slide ahead into another dimension and wait for us. They slip away on the path to someday, vacuumed down a long tube, slippery like a fish, until they all pile up. Moving forward takes on a new meaning. Here, then is now. ******* This is true I left myself a note in a drawer thirty years ago. All it said was: Yes. Then I found one from my Mother and it read: You haven't made your bed since you slept in it. Also, please get a job. ******* If we tore down absolute good and absolute bad, wouldn't that leave everything standing? ******* How can a memory melting so far away, burn so in my stomach? ******* Holy Hiding Places Revealed by hidden harmonies, a secret was told. As I listened questions were answered that I didn't know I had. Till this day I listen in that place. ******* Privilege Never do the horses falter as the towering peaks turn underfoot, and the winds separate at but a touch. ******* In the ever present is where the future lies. Begin. ******* There's a garden that grows little pieces of the world. And another garden there, and one just like it over... there... And when this puzzle is put together it forms a fragrance that can feed the hungry of all nations. ******* Impressionistic Window November 3, 1981 Quivering branches, wooden clouds, silently weep yellow and orange tears. that paint their gray boughs. Rivers rush down my window over and under orange and yellow leaves that take to the tide on the forest floor. to eventually rise again. ******* August 11, 2001 This world is a caterpillar with sixteen legs, that goes nowhere. Feet in opposition it marches in place. Working together we could become butterflies. Eagles. ******* |