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Poems from the Heart
------------------------------- 3/8/08 There's a prayer with a front and a back, an inside and out. It goes like this: Thank You for all that we receive, and why do so many go without? ******* Long Night of Lost Hoping Revisited 7/26/86 Lost hoping, long night. Can't remember, can't forget. The singularity of eternity weighs heavy, but still we laugh. Without suffering and salvation, the original world was misunderstood. This moment couldn't be more potent than it is, nor this one. Sensing non-sense is hard to do here. Who matters, when nothing cares? These ideas are obviously misspelled, leading to philosophy, and psychology; languages with false meanings meaning well. Lost hope, long nights. There isn't a back to the mind, bottom to the heart. Logic is born of mad men lost in vocabulary. Can two places be within us at once? ******* Holy Robbery 12/15/87 When we die, lifeless and still, we discard all our worldly possessions. When the divine leaves our body we become lifeless and still, a discarded garment. When we try to leave the divine behind, we become lifeless and empty, left to our worldly possessions. Yet, when the worldly possessions fall away, the divine remains. What belongs to us? When we leave we'd better take it with us. ******* Breathing into the heart, life becomes love, love becomes conscious, and the conscious continue breathing. ******* Sign: Bodies for rent or lease. See owner within. ******* 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. ******* 2/20/82 The breath that started long ago continues up to here, pushing onward to another rise and fall. Feeling good when you've done good. Feeling bad when you've done bad. Karma. What of bad outcomes from good deeds? Or the good that comes from bad? Some things are out of our control. We do what we can in love with hope. ******* A life can be a prayer, the acknowledgement of the reverence of a thank you. ******* 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. ******* There is a most perfect we can be. ******* Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed Moses are, like virtue, the path between friends. ******* Prayer 8/2/2000 Why should we pray to you, aren't you ageless and boundless? What could prayers tell you, that you don't already know? Wouldn't it be a sign of distrust? We assume you love us and do what you can. Our prayers should be for clarity. The directions of the heart set the course. We do what we can and always end up somewhere. ******* |
Observations
------------------------------- A New Year's Eve Fond Farewell. December 31, 2001 A string of names is relocated into the second column-- with short summaries, even for 98 year olds. They are micrwaved goodbye into column B of the public's awareness. We become an alphabetized item dying in print until nothing is left of us. To have the flame of your memory burn off in the last mind of the last person alive who knew you, as they saunter over to column B. When there's no trace of us left in column A, who do we get to be then? If we can be made as thin as page F6, or file DO102 obscurity, normal average shmoes like us obscurity, then, there we come to our final rest in the unknown and who cares chapter of history. There joined by many other common folk, who did such and such with so and so for so long. ******* No Response Dad March 8, 2002 I'm going to go visit disappointment who lives twenty miles away. Twenty miles, if for nothing else, that should mean something. The weight of the world is on our backs. Distracted, we connect in some strange silent way in some distant cellular place. Growing apart, we kept growing. Sometimes we intersect. Weird ribbons of DNA, we spiral together then mutate apart like flailing tubemen. From the far off places we've become, we wave. Always outside me. Ya, words would have been nice. ******* Short Wave March 23,2002 Angels sing tonight, their voices float through the airways. Another country sends out its holy music. The inspired listen and send out emails. I try tuning into your frequency, a fine adjustment of the dial. Do we recognize, or create one another? Email waves a short wave that falls short somewhere in the Atlantic. A slight twist of the dial and continents are lost. ******* March 26, 2002 Is there any doubt or debate about the intentions of my backyard? Towering pines growing green and lush, unlike people, can be trusted. They are what they appear to be. Breathing them in, they breathing me in as well; something true and predictable. Maple trees exhaling since last fall, secretly maneuver red buds, but promise to become leaves and nothing more. ******* March 24, 2002 Blossoms, one tree many brances. Fragrance, often flowers, one sweetness. MIndful, countless ideas, one thought. Questions, boundless forms, one emptiness. Self-awareness, many mirrors, one face. ******* Play Onwards March 25, 2002 Nighttime-- some crawl in some crawl out; the lucky fall down a well. Two people climbing the same mountain aren't climbing the same mountain. This staccato existence: here one minute gone the next. To be and not to be, there is no question... Outrageous fortune! ******* January 26, 2002 Absence of fulfillment is friend to hunger for contentment. ******* December 18, 2002 A thousand poems a moment. There is a hint of heaven inside that changes us. ******* |