Poetry for Scientists
-------------------------------- Blithewold Gardens We're lucky, the wind is with us today-- you can hear the bamboo talking. High above our heads they creek, scrape and knock; and like panda, we eat their voices. ******* I Don't Care? I'm not sure, but I think I'm non-committal...is that alright? Indecisive...I let others decide for me... I guess... Not to feel one way or another about most things... is that ok? I'm not really sure what I mean, I mean, well what do you think?? ******* The religion with the best god wins. ******* Step Back Birth is the death of the womb. Womb is the death of duality. Within duality hides the one, invisible and subtle. At the birth of the invisible and subtle dies this poem. ******* Anti-gravity Optimists Standing before the stone I awaited my transfusion; not a drop flowed. In hell I waited for ice to form; lemonaide was out of the question. Raising my dukes to City Hall, my fists slid off the slick. Hopeful wishes launched toward a star-- we wait. ******* To Bring the Sun Sept 24, 2000 This is such a tiny garden that everything can be seen from here. You could touch it all, from here. All this pruning for such a small expression. A time ago the gardener realized he was meant to be a gardener. What is planted and picked depends on the season. Something always grows here. The gardener spins like a dervish: the center of the wheel, the axis of the earth, where there is nothing left but the sun. ******* Shadowless April 26, 1988 The light is light in all directions. Forms make shadows, darkness, hidden places. Transluscent bodies catch the light. What is of the sun is the sun. ******* We are to the universe as it is to us. ******* Koan Deaf Jan 19, 1990 The window's clear but the shade is down. The shades are up but the shutters are closed. Everything in the open appears locked. Everything speaks but only the deaf can hear. When time is finally and completely filled up with thoughts and words and deeds, time will stop. No horizons nor boundaries, behind, or next to. It will all be at once. I can hear... ******* Fragrance in the Stone July 30, 1989 See the earth push out each green leaf. The essence of the world pulses and surges to reach up high. See the rivers rise to carry all the mountains piece by piece into the sky. Finer and finer the earth becomes to ascend as soft petals, to give perfume to the light. When all the planet is aloft and gone, the world will be called to the earth again, returning the fragrance to the stone. ******* |
Poems from the Heart
-------------------------------- Rights of Reason in the Quantum World Oct 1982 Sovereign: no one has the right to think for you. Or to set down rules of reason. There's no monopoly on cognition, or figuring things out. Old logic is born of the last world. Leave us alone and as mad as the Buddha, but not as crazy as Aristotle. ******* Note to That which Keeps Me Alive You seem to enjoy our bodies; all bodies and in between too. We fulfill some need? Happy to. We are by way of you. Becoming one with our true selves is becoming our true self as you. We create an artificial distance with words: It's the "moving toward" you-- that illusion-- that creates the mystery. Knowing we pursue what is already here, we can write about the journey forever. Trying to fill up distance with words. Trying to fill up distance with words. That opportunity is my saving grace. Knowing words have limits, silence is more than enough. ******* October 22, 1982 Deep inside is a nerve that when severed, dies, and leaves a permanent frown upon the face. But in moments of forgetfullness, a twinkle may appear in the eye. ******* Not Om. Not Om. Not A-U-M. But, Mmmmmmm... ******* October 8, 1982 Sweet words of ecstasy. How do they pronounce them? The spelling please.. They say the feeling lingers, perches... hesitates. They talk about these words without using them. Their language is so pure it stays within itself. This ecstasy, is that all that can be said? ******* December 18, 1982 Music to the deaf, sight to the blind; a magical world resides within us. If we were to stop pretending and jumped inside, we'd find that we are only alive. There's no reflection in this mirror, only everything. ******* Bubbles May 22, 1985 A breath isn't round like a soap bubble It's full like a rose, sweet and in bloom. ******* Potential July 19, 2001 The frightening and awesome power of the possibility, that there is a being that protects us from all harm always. ******* July 19, 2001 GOD G-O-D: Generator-Operator-Destroyer. When that last part shows up it is u-g-l-y. ******* January 4, 1984 The place where there is absolutely nothing, is where the answers are kept. ******* You are the river you need follow to the source. You're the root as well as the branch. The seed as well as its perfection. *******. Attitude is the philosopher's stone. ******* Grasshopper, the fly of pure reason cannot be hit while sitting upon the swatter. ******* |
Observations
-------------------------------- Northeast by Southwest July 26, 1997 Distance and difference, except for the fine and infinite line that we share. We stretch out thin like a rubber band. that remembers itself back together again. Please help me to formulate the anatomy of love. Because back to back hands may be held, but the true face... A magnet repels reason, but not language: pure attraction where distance disappears, and worlds are magically pulled together, like the warmth of your back on mine. I draw myself into my punctuation as a distraction. I contemplate periods of pause: your back on mine.... Between the glass and the water we could swim. There's such a place in the middle of somewhere and here. I peel a shadow from the wall and slip behind it. You've been here. My reflection slips off the night window and onto the floor. Do you know that place where the night meets the dawn, and all differences and distances disappear? I look under that word. ******* Mortar and Pestle Oct 24, 1989 If one clings to the world, it will slowly turn over you and flatten you against the sky smudging you thin like emptiness, methodically churning and sparing nothing. Crushing you into heaven's underbelly it lingers... then rolls on, griniding you once again. ******* Murder at West and Main Freeport, Maine Sept 17, 1989 West and Main. Fall came to town on this September Sunday morning. Last night a cold rain beat Summer to the ground. It went down with one thunderclap. Trees blush in naked embarrassment standing over the tourists in traffic.-- the electrifying aftershock from the horror of Summer exploding in the night. West and Main, watch the stop and go.... Caravans of satiated tourists lumber by.. Along the route, brightly colored leaves crowd in dying to take part in the Fall procession. ******* Turns August 15, 1989 Two friends, one swing, one pushes, one sings. Seesaw balance, playground fun, no parents in sight, nor trust, nor fear. Two friends, one swing, one pushes, one sings. ******* Holding Forth December 3, 1982 The four corners waited for Wakan Tanka to come walking, for him to come singing his name, to bring life to the people. The four corners delight in your coming. The north and south join together because of you. The earth and sky laugh with you in the wind. East and west join hands in our great circle. Great Father, the four corners wait for you. You give what is the human being in the holy place: a piece of the sun. ******* |