SHENJIVA
A Journal of Inner Work and Therapeutic Arts
Immanence and Identity in Plural Personality
Richard Dagan

poietic verse
An organizing type of free verse...
Last Updated: 11 December 2016

poïesis  [Ancient Greek: ποίησις], from poïein  [ποιέω], "to make" or "bring forth",
referring to the process of "unveiling" → a-letheia  [ἀ–λήθεια],
meaning "the state of not being hidden; self-evident; unforgotten".

Poïesis refers to revelation of the hidden, a 'making known',
producing or leading things into presence, the disclosure of being.
It also deals with that which is dark, ambiguous, and hungry-to-be, unconscious drives and the daimonic.
Beyond will or intention, a poïetic act is revelatory, an opening up, leading to a regrasping of place,
a renegotiation of order and structure that goes beyond the created thing itself.

This is a process of listening for words that emerge from the dark, then to scribe and organize in communication with many voices, where each formulation frames and reveals the path to be engaged at that time, to common developmental purpose in gestalt. Verses vary with respect to rhyme, meter, configuration, and other elements of bind, including circumstance. Reading aloud is the necessary test for resonance. Verses may be edited, more finely tuned or aligned as subsequent insights arise. And while their psychoactive power may fade in time, they remain termini, signs of boundary, to remind.

I don't call it poetry.

Leaving Samsara

You will leave samsara, the cycle of life, death and rebirth, the infinite iterations, khor ba, continuous flow, sangsara, the eternal cycle, because you know the true reality, although there is no you, no self or attributes to wander more in whatever fashion by whatever shore, timeless, off the wheel, beyond it all, wherefore, nothing, no soul and no context to live again. Ah, but then, living again would happen only if and when dead were not as we conceive it, and coming back would mean more than we believe life to be. Suffering, pain, impermanence, change, imperfection, conditioning, dukkha, these are real to me, as are joy and harmony, yet all arise as i perceive reality so, where there is no me, can i yet apperceive, or deeper a reality, from which, in many lives, in varied guise, endlessly, eternally, in karmic contexts and developing devise spring ever more dramatis personae?

Such a long question tells me time is come to rest my pen.

That said then
whether one time only
or time and time again
all of us will leave samsara.
And working through continues now and zen.

Set in rhyme...

Some seem of the moment
bathed in yellow light these
beings conferring forms
most often screened in stream
words arcane not sussed out
or crafted by me no
formulated by means
unknown but utterly
syntonic presenting
new constructs frameworks for
apprehending insights
of real portent rhyming
with emphasis fixing
focus on evolving
ponderance of plot.
Other rhymes are consciously
wrought collective sensus
or heard and affirmed word
by word in the pensus.

In control...

What ever
gave you
the idea
you are
in control
of whatever
this is?

Will you not stay...

Not so much a
restlessness as inner press
a pressing push
with no outlet found as such
i can't produce
write or paint and otherwise
cannot escape
the feeling a tense of rush
without focus
flow failure stream a sense of
crush without crash
disharmony burgeoning
not disabling
no but an irritation
frustration that
invokes determination
to understand
the nature of the problem
what where why how
open track assess resolve
compromised flow
and so we create produce
by working through.

But is that all
there is to do no greater
service nothing
that demands more devotion
to the welfare
of the community whole
or does it seem
you've responsibility
only to the truth
internally apparent
to you the group
interconnections among
everchanging
principals participants
in a broader
ineffable unity
and greater still
ultimateless beyond all
imagining
blissful emptiness this yet
wordless and i
wonder what is lost or may
become this way.

Are you not here
will you not stay to a purpose
play out desires
demonstrate and display your
elements act
initiate expiate
your karmic debt
learn some be some play it out
true to nature
get in tune commune with those
who also view
this grand adventure as what
there is to do
who have no need to ask why
they are here or
come to be reality
so obviously
for we are deeply engaged
in our stories
and we have many lifetimes
on the path or
do we only have one and
this is the last.

Everywhere is
being here an emptiness
yet filled with bliss
passionate without desire
healing wisdom
numinous eroticy
non-duality
wielding the hook of mercy
ferociously
penetrating disrupting
cutting through
transforming making use of
problematic
states that obscurate entrap
disintegrate
distrain or otherwise pain
all going to
enlightenment past present
future knowing
awareness of unity
recognition
we are all one entity
and every me.

Hungry Ghosts...

They are really quite beautiful in their way,
intensely present yet ephemeral, exquisite,
small, 8-10 inches tall, faces painted white,
eyes full and bright, utterly silent, elaborately
robed, levitant, darting close and hovering like
humming birds as i construe what they mean
and then in review see the meditant response
to these hungry ghosts parlaying opportunity,
other ways and means to satisfy or satiate
us both ostensibly, i.e. she who proposes
and i who might desire that in which
her essence tells me i am not invested
and so, even were i to agree, it would not
benefit her or me, though she masquerade
convincingly tempting tantalizing daring
warning encouraging that we act to relieve
uncertainty, doubts of faith and belief — no,
these are not the usual apparition, not spirits
of the dead, not Buddhist pretas or Shenist ègui,
and neither are they addictions or cognitive
asymmetries — instead, mostly unseen, these
hungry ghosts reconvene to test self-assurance,
assess the impressed, expressed and combined
when imagines reset and our course realigns.

Keep it short

say what you must
in the fewest
words possible


What is healing?

Tibetan short form of the Medicine Buddha mantra reads:

Tad-ya-ta: Om Be-kan-dze Be-kan-dze
Ma-ha Be-kan-dze
Ra-dza Sa-mud-ga-te So-ha1

Which might be translated as:

Hail! Appear, O Healer, O Healer,
O Great Healer,
O King of Healing!2

But the mantra deals with
elimination of pain and suffering,
of the body and mind,
of karmic cause,
and of subtle imprints, disturbing thoughts.3

It is a remedy, a sacred utterance,
numinous sounds that imprint within the mind
the path of enlightenment.

And there is more.

A meaningful
but non-literal
translation might be:

May the many sentient beings who are sick,
quickly be freed from sickness.
And may all the sicknesses of beings
Never arise again.4

Healing is freedom from suffering,
attachment, hatred and ignorance;
it is enlightenment, the ultimate medicine.

This is also the focus
of ḍākiṇī Vajrayogini,
essence of all Buddhas,
transforming all experience
for enlightenment.

RAW

On the nature everything an all-encompassing reality a macrocosm experienced in the gestalt plurality of me as i, an intermediary function of many players with agency, a collectivity, a transpersonality temporarily focused as individuality, of Shakti, as Durga was empowered of the whole, of the Sun, and all of we arising, many as one, of the infinite Wuji, born of the spiral force Taiji, from whence the universe, ineffable of course, beyond individuality but inherent, interconnectivity revealed through life and death, in consciousness, the Wheel turns, everywhere, experienced at center, the common Well.

Mrityormā-amri-tam gamaya is better interpreted, not as a request to be led from death to immortality (amritam, deathlessness, ambrosia), but to awareness beyond life and death.
Enlightenment.
At the center, flowing through.

Water...

The sewerish stink of a chemical brew fills the air of my sink when i open the taps and water runs through cold or hot incidental to a froth of whitish shampoo that clears when the liquid is caught in glass or pot and given time to settle.

Chloramine and fluoride certainly contribute to this slough, and i've no means to know the number or nature of troublesome toxics that also do, including medicaments, metabolites, pesticides, herbicides, flame retardants, hormone disruptors, more and new, leaching, seeping, weeping, draining from the decomposing stew of putative disposables or the wantonly thrown, dumped or flushed.

These boomerangs and unanticipated synergies often act insidiously, but they affect everything, food chain too. Some people say they're not disturbed and, in the short run at least, for them that might be true, but we are the environment and is no one immune. Aye, burns my stomach, this water, so i chose, still choose not to drink it, don't even cook with it. Dries the skin, a very large organ that draws things in so, short showers only, no hot baths.

From Spring Saint-Cuthbert i buy bottled water. And from a deep natural spring in Wakefield some 30 klicks away i carry home glass bottles of hard clean water every 14th day. The road gets longer and harder, the Hopi say. Maybe soon move far away. Chop wood, carry water.

Soul Belief

Wuji

K, the question is not simply the reality of soul but whether i know and believe in a nurturing authority, in whom i find origin and sensibility, the parent androgyne, the Sun, as in the Horned God and Triple Goddess, Moon Earth, the Sun, that nurtures everyone, we tiny sparks held within the fiery will, the One as Many as One..., yet still, leading me in search of more, beyond any, every, and none, potentiality, pervading inhering immanency, before, now, and to come, and i have found, and i believe, though it's quite beyond my capacity to conceive, yet indeed, experience proceeds with a simple shift in focus, a stepping-up, unveiling the ultimately ultimateless ...Wuji... and while avoidant fantasy i fear has taken over me again when i fall down, and always do, to mundane more familiar retinue, they rescue me, and always do, although i write i am no soul, there clearly shows the agency, working through, awaring, see, the what-to-do, we learn, express, contribute to, the whole.

How to succeed as an artist...
Spinning time, empty mind, the Way appears inside.

So Klein says first and most important, be distinctive, be yourself. Second, get in the game, get engaged, create opportunities, hustle. And third of three, make good art. Get your work in front of a couple thousand people, 25, maybe 35 of whom will want to know more, buy, collect your work. Understand that the buy is subjective, emotional, a visceral thing, which means why people buy what they do may remain a mystery to you. But you must do your art, focus on your vision, which is what's unique to you. Also spend 30-70 percent of your time on career, on strategy, and know your objective, what you want to do, methods to get there while being distinctive, being you. And cultivate a positive attitude, be confident in success, believe in the value of your art and appreciate that you have an obligation to get it out, relate with others...

Taylor tells of the woman whose paintings were stored in the thousands at her home, the prices set so high she sold only about one per year, collecting pieces all her own, unwilling to let them go. Which are you, he asks, a collecting or a selling artist? You must decide. You can make it with online sales, but be realistic, success may not be immediate. These days everybody's an artist or knows one, so you've got to go slow, make contact, get known. Stay determined. Sales will grow, but give it time. Don't quit your day job till you're selling regularly. You will sell. But never ever ever have a sale.

Cuffe confidently explains the importance of social media, tumblr, Facebook, pics and posts, forming relationships, developing your own brand, focusing on the relevance of art in community, a matter of contact and connection, expression, participation and growth. A genial speaker whose message grows more remote, the speed of it and details harder to hold as the intricate plot unfolds, beyond the scope, the limited range of my worldly experience and otherly desire.

A common frame in each case involves making connections, getting in the game, working social media. Hm. Maybe not our objective, not part of the art, the vision, our process not focused on such strategy and chase, we've got vocation opposed to career, an erase. Independence beyond survival might mean canvas and paint, studio space, that's true. But being distinctive and relating too — comparison and competition, weak teas these that poorly brew, rarely meet or meaningful, communicating opportunes but even so and more preferred the path inside, interconnectivity that underlies, inhabits, inclines, experienced far more intimately in that sense than through communities online, so thin and rarefied, people never seen, listening disturbed and word unheard, effort confounding, nonsensical, absurd. The illusion of well in a spell of sell.

Venus in the the 10th, inconjunct Saturn in the 3rd, trine transiting Pluto in the 7th, square Venus.
This maybe ain't the time for paint in any case, or frames for games an artist might tell.
Digging down, pieces fly, spinning time, empty mind, the Way appears inside.
Remembering Musashi...

Unique

Only you
are not unique
or equally confused.

HUM

Words don't come when i want them
through closed doors in silence
the sounds harmonica blue
can end carooming out
or send sweet note
on a dristy wind
in an empty
listening
HUM.

Simon said...

Simon said
dont wash your head
in pitch or poison ivy
bananas work better
they wont make you dead
and might even help
you thrivey.

In Hawaii, [a]nother wild variety [of banana], formerly taboo to women, is called the tall lele, planted near altars and offered to the gods for love magic. Lele is a delightfully descriptive word, meaning "to fly, leap, bounce, jump, sail through the air." We find it in the word waterfall, wailele ("leaping water"), but here, as a banana variety, the name alludes to the fact that the "spirit of the banana" was believed to "fly" up to the gods.

Beyond...

Five and one two three
plus ten and one
but more we see
who come and go
as players in a band
we know our princips be
the buddha family dhyani,
mahavidyas, nityas, devi
the numbers not so important
though as new constructs grow
from mercury earth in accord
with sol and saturn etheric
control uranian innovatio
time and dimensions
interconnections
awake and awakening O!

OM GATE GATE PARAGATE
PARASAMGATE BODHI SVAHA

The Move

assumption, belief,
structure falls apart
in semblances of art
and cognitive schemes,
an integrality apperceived
as personal, need to achieve
but failure to appreciate degree
of effort and need, the exhaustion
of others, the emotional turbulence
of players, the pressure to complete
taking down and transport, repositing
a coral reef of complexity not so much
role as accommodation at this juncture
and even that sometimes painfully, by
negative means, modeling what not
to do or how to be, distinguishing
apparent work and deep reality,
the Sagitarry bridge between
the divine and the human

Divine Wind

in
this
space i
am witness to
unassailable evidence of error and
mistake, from memories long forgotten, cold hard facts,

narcissistic compensations and consequences of acts causing harm
through focused disregard,

drives engaged, objectives identified and pursued without reference to underlying
desire, undertaken to achieve immediate results, prove worth and gain
face

but this never goes well as the memories clearly tell
and my pain becomes agonizing, the shame exquisite, without relief,
for these records pose no explanations, show no mitigating factors,
no indications of possible

expiation or redemption, so i find myself worthless and without
merit, unwilling to play this game, angry and self-destructive
at the very core of being, previous efforts ill-conceived,
deluded, i am disbelieved, futile efforts, failure so complete it
warrants death, demands release, a clearing of the slate, surcease —
and then come bloody visions,

visceral images of dissolution and annihilation, only death will do in
such catharses, demise in many forms, intense, acute, the termination,
the quietus, returning at last to the Great Abyss —
i do remember this, when comes the Void, connections lost,
transcendence and ecstatic bliss, awareness next, Divine Wind the emptiness
imbued, purged, renewed, we rise above the mighty sea in
brilliant sun and i perceive an old idea new —
this can be about whatever we want it to be,
what we see, what truly matters to me, framing

need not be about success or failure, about if-then,
back when, or doing it over again, nor necessarily about
identity construction and role assumption, building up and breaking down,
in mindfulness the know is now in any sense and
any how and all is of a piece so i
release, i feel a letting go of desire and attachment,
no wish to compare or compete, measuring performance in terms
of the integral as opposed to perceived aspirations and goals
because the latter, those specs i suppose to be key
in describing the grain of sand or spark of fire
that is me, exist only in contrived geometries of mind
not of the no i walk to find, the emptiness,
the Void, the white and blue, conditioned existence and absence
of permanent identity, and mirror knowledge, cutting through confusion, knowing
what is, humble, healing.

Seeing Reality

Buddha Vairocana all-accommodating at the center white light void space ether emptiness reality wisdom enabling you to see to feel the qi flowing through yet utterly beyond analysis not a thing you own or power or attribute from which to accrue but a way you want to pursue when all is pain and illusion and nothing rings true except in this view, vast beyond the limits of you, dissolving all concerns in the always tranquil light.

In ex or ab lee...

How won der full the sound
how grand the imp lick a shun
in ex or ab lee
you so dea fine the sit you a shun
pre zoo ming en fait ah kam plea
an ounce sing tout est fin knee
you shut down pre match your lea
in ex or ab lee
the verb who wants to be noun.

Off to be...

Tired as dead, i'm off to be...
Bed, that maybe should have read.

The block...

what could have been but did not be
does not concern or trouble me
thoughts shaken free as readily
as metrics in comparity
but where confronted by the need
to clime conflicting dynastae
complex conditions of the mind
of barricade, morass or weed
i do not grok and cannot clock
or am not told the map or road
i roll up sleeves to analyze
how everything got babelized
i must release, i must let go
and focus on the void of soul
where imagery reveals the roots,
personae and their in-disputes
which generally does the trick
coz once revealed most problems click
the combination of the lock
or i see how to end the block.

Just my nature...

i have a tendency
to complicate and almost
certainly aggravate my situation
by singular focus on
inner resolution of disharmony
rather than explore social
interaction in more than
limited terms and prefer
to apprehend transpersonal truth
primarily through i-mutation
but as scorpion said
thats just my nature.
Whatsa frog to do?


Perhaps if you drew...

surely youve something better to do
than sit around here and rue and roo
..... perhaps if you drew

Imaginary Friends...

Profound the doubts that rise and swell, that undermine and break the spell, driving forces that compel me to dissolve reality as we perceive it because i am confused, deluded, self-deceived, worthless in extreme, and the inwardly apparent beings with whom i relate are simply aspects of myself, artifacts, my creations, imaginary friends that come and go as spirit winds blow down the mountain, that i am not begot of multiplicity nor join our lot in Vulcan's forge but rather seem to be some troupe of narcissistic compensations, illusory dreams, impractical schemes, a willful avoidance of normative themes and responsibility figuring prominently amidst probative fears of competition, intimacy, and rejection.

A study in verisimilitude, all of these construed as true, but, from a deeper altitude, in terms of working through, capacity to tolerate, to analyze and transcend such dissonance, contradiction, variability and uncertainty, they are part of our own process, predicated upon inner relationship, Amun Abrasax, known by many names, presenting in many forms, building structures and tearing them down, today godai in a dream of five swords, earth, water, fire, wind and void, the fifth blade accepted, my path to embrace, tomorrow another schema in place as we shift shape to do what there is to do in gestalt.

Product of my art...

Strangely enlarged and elongated
cadaveric colors connoting the age
and functionality, rubbery, rather stiff
this heart shows white-rimmed portals
where its major vessels might originate
when thrown by agency unknown so as
to land upon textured bright white cloth
that covers an oaken rectangular table
on which it rolls unevenly and comes
to a rocking stop, blum-bum, alone
the contrast stark as walking past
on my way to the far end or head
i suddenly realize this heart must
have been a model from some other
time, and while momentarily i thought
it was mine, my very own heart, i now
apperceive it as nought but a function
of design — the product of my art.

Whatever he writes...
5 February 2014

Whatever he writes,
that shall he be,
for however long
it takes him to see.

Taking a stand...

Bright sun slices through the early afternoon overcast but does not
remove the disturbant undercurrent that pervades the dreamworld,
my sense of disquieting developments, memory of dreams troubled
recently by feelings of progressive discommunity and commensal
dissociation on a scale quite beyond the pale of family dynamics.

In light of the complexity i consider finding sanctuary — an escape
i cannot afford of course and a path i could not sustain in any case
so waste no time lamenting in the face of want and need among the
many poor i see around me in this orphanage of infant cravings and
youthful aspirations, among the isolates, the disaffected adaptations.

I would take immediate action to ameliorate these needs, but means
to address the basic matter of being me do not exist externally — an
insight subsequently impugned by a man of the commune, outlined
fiercely needful wife behind as he holds close the child of his mind
and rebukes me with apparent authority: You have it all wrong...

Words flow as if i were already there yet am only just aware of the message that streams through me, utterly calm, breathing deeply, measured, firm and even, spoken with confidence and intensity:
The right to be is not limited by decree and i am not defined by your interpretation of truth or reality. I abide, nurture and guide inside.

Even if...
18 December 2013

These days
even if i understood
i think i would
say i don't know.

At the very core...
13 December 2013

Epiphany comes with memory of a numinous dream —
This was not a visualization of shadow but of character,
individuality and heart, reality at the very core of being.

We meet, he of the forest, whose life is lived on the plane
between me, analyst in the dome (i.e. domic, not dominic)
and the vast potentiality of the underworld below his home,
an indigeneity of family and clans, hunter-early-agrarian, he
a reader of nature who knows of transitions and boundaries,
who goes where needs must, hermeneus, one of inner trust.

Not Your Medium...
In a dream, as transiting Saturn approaches opposition Moon.
28 November 2013

Three times in angry emphasis
his index finger stabs my chest
STOP USING ME [he shouts, and more]
if you were really [so attuned]
you'd've seen that problem BEFORE
anyone suffered injury.
→ I asked an unnamed familiar
wanting a smoke to push past
my own anxiety working
not even thinking what he faced
how he felt his needs injuries
but he agreed became two then
three against foes none seen inside
for i was not looking maybe
afraid mystified occupied
by the Greater Unrevealed no
longer trying dissatisfied
a failure disenchanted by
"truth" but who was he to say
who was he anyway this young
man now standing up to i
puer aeternus uncertain
but clearly angry determined
to seek his way at least to try
to interact until he find
inside and out more dimensions
than he can count and then attest
to that reality and heal
STOP USING ME he shouted → FEEL.

This act of writing...
16-18 December 2013

Deeply withdraw to receive hear sometimes see
words meaning context and when they can be
parsed and organized by gestalt community
in phrases sentences or verse and forged
inspired and invested by corporeal force
then the act of writing simultaneously
generates cognitive structure which
not only captures but also clarifies
the quandary and transmogrifies to
work that issue through and beyond
the previously problematic conjuncture
of wounds anxiety confusion disjuncture
to a place of release — however temporary.

Elfin...
9 December 2013

He sees himself in dream not mirror or simulacrity
but parallel reality they meet he the seer him the seen
me simultaneously astonished to realize the common root
elfin androgyne a sensitive unanalyzed and he the magus flute.

Receiving by dissolving "me".
10 December 2013
4 December 2013

He does not know he cannot tell
the questions long the answers swell
subtends beneath the boundary
a mystery unseen but felt
transmutively familiar
and that which need be said in place
above these vast dimensions so
powerless he to grasp or run
the race no route no path except
embrace what he has done at last
receiving by dissolving "me"
engaging new reality.

Gestalt mind.
23 November 2013

In liminal states more often encountered than thought when thinking through does nought
i speak with voices open to visions deeply attune to body states commune with indwelling
force and am driven impassioned to grasp intent establish course gain consent take action
confirm the laws find and correct perceptual flaws cognitions skewed counsel from source
by ethos imbued to nurture and then represent us too because that is what there is to do.

The paradigm must change...
10 August 2013

Void of course lost confounded
confused confined i have tried
and am denied imprisoned
analyze but cannot find
the root or resolution
so override to stop the noise close my eyes
and shut it down listen for a deeper sound
for words entrained through darkest
night and seek the visions round
to light direction in the
next dimension a passage
or action but nothing comes
there is no movement i am stuck in this muck
the paradigm must change old is same as same
fresh perspective must be gained
so must open to receive
get beyond the fixity
die the death that comes to me
evolving transformation
a contextual shift beyond any plans
for the answer now is flowing in my hands.

Ninjutsu.
13 October 2013

Avoid defeating other people
listen and learn, acquire the skill
to identify and take the mind
without alarm, neither seen nor heard.

A beaten drum.
5 October 2013

The greatest poet to become
of ancient rhyme
he memorized so many lines
that meter was
engrained in time a beaten drum.

Reality.
11 June 2013
13 October 2013

How is it possible and in what sense explictly to be present conscious a participant yet largely unobservant of common reality clearly recognized elementally when attention is demanded by circumstance or people in proximity who assert that they indubitably perceive substance and matters of unequivocal necessity where i barely register a generally illumined blur and sound unheard which rises occasionally to the level of discernible object when focused upon specifically or otherwise might present numinously chthonically a reality of larger dimensions different extensions and connections?

What does that even mean?

Not seen.
5 May 2013

Curious phenomenon
to be in the open
in plain sight
not hidden
yet not seen.

Interpretive sense,
frame of reference.
5 May 2013

Assignment of house
is not hard and fast
but determined by
whatever zodiac and
system house division
makes most interpretive
sense at the time.
The matter will be
ignored entirely
if frame of reference
shifts to heliocentricity.

Cultivating qi.
7 May 2013 (11 June 2013)

Centered and the exercise begins with
inner mapping the movements of need
and lines showing path of energy seen
the instant before hands engage the qi
the way i follow incomprehensible but
instantly intimately known by doing by
experiencing streams or cords of white-
gold energy in fingers palms and arms
pervading me moving through legs feet
toes soles torso everywhere and eyes
(especially those) an indescribable mix
of bliss and connectedness and often in
response to a counterforce like moving
through water resistance (going more
deeply into trance) a revelatory dance
creation through interaction mutually
invoked a guided soul and immanence
being the very essence understanding
no questions asked a state cultivated
internally explored taught sometimes
lost in dragon dreams.

What is not there...
7 May 2013

Ballcap flat on the sidewalk
she sat bare legs crossed
in the shade of a battered
old orange newspaper box
and thus screened from police
she anxiously searched the eyes
of possibilities going south or north
though most would never meet hers
or care to register so many wounds
the lacking or lost opportunities
in her life and when i said
sorry i have no cash
she raised, bobbed
thumb, mumbled
have a good day
and turned away
smiling unsteadily
all of her five black
lower teeth on display.
Where is the usefulness
here, in what is not there?

Haecceity ("thisness")
7 April 2013.

T☍♄

T☌♃

Agencies perform reborn beyond
my ken, though aware of them
and sensing interpenetrating
dimensions which exceed
conscious capacity to see,
hear, or otherwise even dimly
apprehend as my reality, empty
in my haecceity, no directions
or memories, simply feeling lost,
a flickering light a discontinuity of
bluish white, a junction in darkness,
base, trace, an edge, way down spiral
or even more from galactic core, energy
entrained in generative void, shore
and shell, the inner war i know so
well, withdrawn again in solitude to
retransform, collecti-metamorph,
the signs portend and thus begot
means what we do
must overcome the
am i now or not.

avoid
23 March 2013

youavoid
noinnerthoughtwhatever
youempty—nosurprise
youavoid
oristhatyourdisguise?

Invisible...
23 March 2013

A deeper meaning
what you do
than recognition
come to you
or their permission.

Of common place...
14 March 2013

Beyond known, presumed, and tolerably unfamiliar,
past the unpredictably porous pale of common place
they arise to commune, the sensed but unfathomed
and possibly imagined spirits and specters untraced,
vectors of power and change that i can neither stay
nor control, the imperative, the Wyrd — unanticipated
disturbance of inner space, terrible losses remembered,
trackless wastes of opportunity, numberless mistakes
in social catastrophes i am seeing, abreacting, calling,
willing into being again « dem ist so und nicht so » when
within enfolds without, then unfolds within — the word is
harmonize → the introject, the melancholic decathect,
engaging drive, the analyze, the recreate, reorganize.

Whatcha gonna do?
14 March 2013

Speed read and scan
faster than i am and
again two three times.
Don't remember much.
But i got good hands.
Mebbe a healing touch.

Big Empty...
14 March 2013

Too much juice
and grief on dues,
dope disability clude,
wind up wearing it
home in the world
big empty haunting you.

Knowing everything...
29 December

Not very good
at knowing everything:
make too many mistakes
→ find no advantage
presenting myself
as so awake
when often asleep.
If i dont waste time
with pretend and defend
i soon apprehend that
what i need to know
takes hold of me,
seen, heard or felt,
it directs and draws me,
engages my interest
and moves me utterly.
Therefore, i let go:
i do not know —
i am led.

Working on the idea
21 February 2013

Working on the idea
that inner voices are
transpersonal agencies
with and through whom intra-
and interpersonal communication
occurs in consonance with
the reality of īśvara,
the inward experience of divinity,
which boils down like a shaman
in a fire, flesh melted from bone
and resurrected whole, to mean
one can communicate with others
and contribute to well-being
without having to socialize.

Alert!
31 December 2012

alert the next sentence
new words coming through
set springs to action
draw swords, derring-do

Writing to work through...
12 December 2012

Writing to communicate
is often different from
writing to work through,
a more telegraphic form
of intrapsychic review
intended to analyze
organize and integrate.
An inner audience already
knows the ideoemotional
vocabulary so requires no
explanatory prose except in
those cases where the material
is novel and transformanagerial.

live small for now
10 December 2012

does not fit
out of it
steps aside
loses place
marginalized
no disgrace
not be long
world moves on

live small
for now

Frames of Reference
9 December 2012 (26 March 2013)

Too difficult to identify the psychic eye
Rahu in the ninth wise counselor wizard provocateur or exaggeration and deceptive amplification and Ketu in the third an otherworldly mind or depressed and disconnected maybe wrong assumptions clear projections of the collective unconscious i like Yogananda's approach to wit you are not regimented by stars or dominated by matter of which there is only 4% in the universe no word descriptor or statement defines you or where you are at this or any other time it's just a frame of reference and the bottom line remains your integrity.

Comparison
26 November 2012

comparison fails because
no one and no-thing are
the same, so the frame
is a fart from the start

Moot...
26 November 2012

My success or failure is not
determined by your opinion.
The question is surely moot
and i dispute your dominion.

You are here
29 November 2012

Heaven (S)
(SE) Lake - Wind (SW)
(E) Fire - * Taiji * - Water (W)
(NE) Thunder - Mountain (NW)
You are here→Earth (N)

The Way...
26 November 2012

In whatever way
known or unknown
others insideout
others outsidein
the path exists
in presence of that
which makes manifest,
which remembers, unveils,
reveals the hidden
unforgotten
never alone
following the way.

Considering the complexity...
13 November 2012

Considering
the complexity
of postmodernity
and omnishambles
in connexity,
opportunity for
work of less perplexity
might actually
mitigate financial
and emotional woes,
but maybe not ...
who really knows,
clinging to the status quo?

We find the time...
13 November 2012

When the shaper
molds the rhyme
deceivers drive
to ground
the hard behind
a washing line
of sound
the ear is blind
the proof
and none supine
we find the time
your truth
to dance sublime.

The Music...
9 October 2012 (29 November 2012)

In this state of mind
there are no signs
no measures of any kind
to mark the passage of time
until, looking back,
the unbidden i find
are mistakes and wounds
of rejection, punition and pride,
expectations internalized from
those whose standards narrowly
define or arbitrarily restrain
and attempt to bind
what will not be contained
and manifests as shuddering pain,
a clenching of teeth, contraction
of muscle, steeling cold on hold...
but an introspective opportunity
i do not waste
(could not escape in any case)
as inner heat erupts
and then...
the music comes again
the music i'd forgot
(this happens alot
to optimistic melancholics)
and when i remember
the rhythm and rhyme
and feel the immanent beat,
i open inside and simply fly —
catharsis is complete.

The Music...Cont'd
29 November 2012

Clearly there are markers
at different points in time
that define experiential course
or line, but while some of these
present unequivocally,
as psychospiritual epiphanies
and hierophanies, sharply
sensible and accessible to me
in context of gestalt, the voices
and the ego-Self, none seem to be
evident during metamorphoses,
in the unforgetting disharmonium
of cathartic deconstruction.

Coming back...
22 September 2012

I keep coming back
to this same old stage
after every gage
of identity
we resolve, the next
seems similarly
framed: another role,
a new masquerade.
The trick i think is
to work my own art
and let the practice
itself be the part.

Well, maybe...
21 September 2012

In two realms at once
timorously
in the one
puer aeternus
and a child
of dragons
in the other
forever the student.

Long range plan?
21 September 2012

Anxiety relieved
with a brown paper bag
of fresh groceries and
safe place to sleep tonight.

Just ... ordinary.
14 July 2012

What makes you special they asked
nothing he replied
what do you have that we do not
nothing he replied
what can you do that we cannot
nothing he replied
i am very ordinary...
and while he spoke a little inside out
they listened politely
thinking what they thought about
they rose, chatting neighborly,
ate the crackers and cheese,
drank the wine, and left.
Not all it was cracked up to be.
Just ... ordinary.

He dare not dig...
10 July 2012

He dare not dig and would not find,
he wants no part of history,
prefers to leave the past behind
yet wonders at the mystery,
the artefacts and tangled lines,
the sin chrone eze and oddi teas
and feary things that lead him blind
up one hill and down another.


Walk lightly...
10 July 2012

Walk lightly, easy as you go;
do not act as if you know
your impact on what lies below.

What has gotten into you...
12 May 2012

What has gotten into you
your behavior is different
unfamiliar somehow skewed
something of a shock
not what we want or grok
are you obsessed
you been possessed
what is the matter with you
has something gotten
under your skin
are you irritable
yes and no metaphysical
transformed like when
you let the vampire in
or the meme made you spin
ahso — here has been
an intrasusception
a deep acceptance
of something akin
a constellation within
(you even look different)
what manner of being
of ancient past or recent cast
no perturbation no aberrance
but unfathomed potential
and something astounding
is happening an expansion
of inner vision the ceiling
a vaulted magnificence
emerges a vast untold
floating without hold
understanding stories old
so very old they are new.

It is written...
1 July 2012

So it is written
and in writing it
he is moved beyond the words
which may be revised a bit
as insight and drive permit.

Other you...
12 May 2012

Another being hidden from view
a parallel seeing clearly true
the meeting merging other you.


A channel responding...
12 May 2012

How it feels not like my creation
in the process or when we're through
more like opening and receiving
a channel responding to and becoming
something new.

By inner rule...
8 May 2012

when bodkin slan
o screed began
the list bestand
ahind him and
anxiety
assailing he
aworry been
the unforeseen
wot takes his spit
the end of it
all pain and shit
that fighter bit
to see his lot
engaged in thought
the what-gets-wrote
an antidote
to isolate
or activate
remain the womb
or shoot the moon
may also be
too late the dream
already old
long story told
but listen well
the crafting spell
forgetting ought:
let go ye sot
and live by inner rule.

The scryer.
15 March 2012

It has always been
the answers unknown
when power is needed
to regain control of
affects run rampant
emotions gone rogue
it has always been
that i hear and see
the words come to me
from the darkness within
and receiving i utter
or write, said the scryer,
to structure the din
with daimonic fire,
decipher and mold
my foundering soul.

The simple truth.
15 March 2012

Slowly deeply inhale,
feeling the beat of my heart
connected with every part;
slowly freely exhale,
the mind growing calm and still,
surrendered by act of will;
letting go travail
unveils another reality,
continuing to breathe
and open to receive,
where, just beyond causality,
the simple truth divined
shows no precise identity
and cannot be described,
yet i am home and free.

We often accept < do not >
on grounds of belief or proviso
we think of it not or get caught
in hopeful relief that all is well
and forthcoming events will tell
the story we anticipate —
a fantasy we propagate
with ideas of < do >
and what is < appropriate to [do] >
but the stop and the start
in this applecart
seems problematic —
a plot misbegot.

To do
do not
i do (not)
make do do over do up
do away with do wap
< do >
make act perform cause put place
< not >
reverse proscribe prohibit negate
in no way to no extent
do not do or even contemplate
the < do > before the act of < not >
is more or less a mindless thought.

Simple acts
5 February 2012

When i think there are no facts
only interpretations
i find it helpful to limit
my involvement to simple acts
and fewer representations.

There are no facts,
only interpretations.

Finding fractals
5 February 2012

They were there all along
we know that now but
they were invisible then
as we looked dimly through
the lenses of our intent
seeing our creations
straight lines
geometric shapes
rather than
the similar patterns
that nature creates.

Eleven
Thirty spokes share the wheel's hub;
It is the center hole that makes it useful.
Shape clay into a vessel;
It is the space within that makes it useful.
Cut doors and windows for a room;
It is the holes which make it useful.
Therefore benefit comes from what is there;
Usefulness from what is not there.

Eleven, Tao Te Ching
Image Credit: TaoToday.com (www.schrades.com)

A review of narcissistic compensation and separation
26 November 2011 (26 March 2013)

You are special so very unique but we realize there has been a mistake
you are not the golden boy wed hoped for no it appears not for reasons
we find difficult to define but obviously and without intent to undermine or
in any way assign blame we understand you need to belong feel cared for
have place and be safe we see yet through the illusion of you and of missing
ingredient the unfortunate truth we conclude that you are not able to contribute
because "you" are not there although we hope you will prove worthy eventually.

Certainly, it seems that what you say rings true it is possible i merely do pretend,
or claim to do and overextend, inflate or abnegate, compensate, whatever it takes,
to apparent unfortunate end, with cognitive molts again and again, yet i apprehend
that the words of your spell hold no power, that i am not about your acceptance or
affirmation, so rather than follow you in further fruitless attempts to redress such
deficits on promise of relief and advance by compliance, i prefer to work alone,
internally, feeling the flow of energy in company of my deeper family chthon.

Inner work...
19 November 2011

When one breathes in and out, one's concentration causes the generative force to rise and fall (in the microcosmic orbit) thus slowly turning the wheel of the law. Count from one to ten and then from ten to one hundred breaths with the heart (mind) following the counting to prevent it from wandering outside. When the heart and breathing are in unison, this is called locking up the monkey heart and tying up the running horse of intellect.

Mindfulness should give way to mindlessness [...]

Movement, with awareness of a simple mind's activity
and a channeler's proclivity, both monkey-mind?
sometimes commentary, mindful counting, old themes
or novel predicates drawing near, mind in time
and yet as the mime experiences this, the parts
of the whole all seem to belong at the table of soul —
in precisely what role, the mime does not know;
but note that when the cogimentary gets too close
and the mime shifts focus becoming control,
there occurs an aberration of energic flow
sufficiently uncomfortable that the mime moves
to reestablish focus, concentrato, and just so
perhaps all of the movement, including monkey-mind,
is part of the process developing whole.

[I]n earlier periods the dominant meaning of the monkey was that of mediator between deities and humans.
Later in history, its meaning as a scapegoat became increasingly dominant [...]

Daoist Nei Gong: The Philosophical Art of Change

NEI GONG :: Inner Work — An art form

From the publisher...
This book provides a breakdown of the entire Nei Gong process, and explains in plain English the philosophy which underpins Nei Gong practice, and which is based on the original teachings of the ancient Daoist priests. The methodology of Sung breathing, an advanced meditative practice which has until now been reserved for 'inner-door' students is described, and the book contains an entire set of Qigong exercises accompanied by instructional photographs and drawings.

Interoception
5 November 2012 (26 March 2013)

time was faster when knowing
answers was my responsibility
but working with qi experientially
surpasses that need as timelessly
interoceptively exploring movements
ryhthms pathways watching streaming
active dreaming and little or no abreaction
detached releasing letting go in mindful slow
fluid movements it seems i am utterly joyously
free to be whatever i want to be
yet i am comfortably nothing
following a string no-mind
blissfully more
than all i know

A handle on things...
25 September 2011

thinking i have
a good handle on things
i am stumblebum surprised
when the battle brings
evidence of artfully devised
illusions that protect
yet adversely affect me
prone to prematurely
disconnect and mumble
dumb miscalculate conclusions

The answer...
23 September 2011

i thought that art
would be the answer
but it is simply part
of the question
not a persona
i want to pursue
merely a process
of working through
and alas one which soon
may prove too expensive
for me to do

Essential stuff...
22 September 2011

not tough enough
to play the game
to market in the name
of art is art is art
the hardest part
the numbed heart
that comes apart
without a dream
and so i seek recovery
in magical discovery
of more essential stuff

Empty...
21 September 2011

and here
inevitably
i know i am empty
void of familiar role
or salient goal
in melancholic reverie
a rudderless boat
stranded upon the shoal
of wishful themes
in the marginal seas
of penury

The branch...
13 September 2011

in her small hands
the branch fit perfectly
at just the right height
so she could hang suspended
partially hidden by broad leaves
in her private morning stretch
but she was seen by others who
wanted to enjoy the pleasure too
though they were heavier than she
and acted less in harmony
till soon the branch
lay broken below
black and still
in the grass
at the base
of the tree

Before sinking in...
13 September 2011

before sinking in
i do not see
what hungers me
but when the fat
drips down my chin
i perceive that
the mystery
evidently
needs a napkin

Unknown...
29 August 2011

not asleep not awake
adrift the vestal lake
of openness and dreams
unintelligible
yet very much at peace

Her need, his tears...
29 August 2011

she tells him her need
yet wants no help
expecting things
her way or else
and he believes
that she has lost
her path and health
preserving her wealth
denying herself
these long many years
but he might be wrong
for the truth of her song
is harder to see
through his tears

Staying very small...
27 August 2011

that by staying very small
he would not be hurt at all
so something inward froze
or chose or in reaction rose
to be alone — develop on its own
a carnival clown the minister said
building up and breaking down
but he would channel and
imagine mimic and compose
explore the darkest throes of
psychic faults in neuroseismic zones
and navigate by hearing tones
that speak the deep community
and quest for unity
the harmony of voices in gestalt

Dominoes...
27 August 2011

he plays with words
like dominoes
one end at a time
and dares not
plan ahead
afraid of being
out of line

Poetry is...
27 August 2011

poetry is the art of working through
difficult themes that come to view
in words that do or do not need
refinement and assembly

Neurogenesis...
25 August 2011

breathe deeply
you are generating neurons

Dont got a dime...
19 August

dont got a dime but
breathe and move more easily
in and out of time

Divining by rhyme...
17 August 2011

words that come as rhyme
will often trigger insight
elsewise not divined

Another dimension...
16 August 2011

at this angle we
see another dimension
lost in the next step

When to stop...
9 August 2011

behind the old goal post verdant ivy flourishes lush on the hurricane fence once fully supported by eight posts three meters high it afforded useful backdrop at the southend boundary of the soccer field but not long ago as the ivy continued to grow more dense its weight pulled free the upper meter and a half of that fence which arched away from moorings on the six inner posts and now the ivy gains more sun and broadens its reach on both sides of fence so perhaps then is unaware or does not care or knows not when to stop

Clean house...
8 August 2011

time to clean the house
of urgencies and objects
i no longer need

what seemed important
in another time does not
have rhyme in the now

Simple words and art
20 July 2011

what use the judgment
what merit to say
a loner —
thinks things should go his own way
and why has that stayed
so important a page
in the script of a play
where he seems not the owner

he knows an inner heart
but is unable or unwilling
to be in other company for long
to play a different part
the deeper need for solitude
to analyze to break apart
to reconstruct to remake whole
his simple words and art

If he walks away from you...
11 July 2011

if he walks away from you or in some sense
does not behave as you expect or wish him to
in all probability he is not abandoning you
or showing neglect denying some truth
or attempting to deceive on the contrary
imagine that he simply has something
he must do a problem he is working on
an action he must follow through
so let him do what he has to
because his stuff cannot always be
about you and the deeper truth
you seek in fact is not in him but you

Gaining space...
11 July 2011

cleaned out the fridge
today threw away
expired supplements
questionable foods
stuff i will never eat
but felt tempted to
and bought
in one of my moods
and strangely
i feel great
there is
much more space
when thoughts are
no longer
on hold

did the bathroom shelf too
i mean really — who needs
twenty bottles of shampoo
ahso i remember years ago
when i found the dead cat
dark fur dry skin and bones
stuck to the stained carpet
in the closet rarely used the
old woman said with surprise
i wondered where all the flies
early summer were coming from
adding parenthetically she and her
husband had simply become apathetic
— ennui that arose from thoughts on hold
from marching in place and not gaining space

Sea gull...
7 July 2011

absolutely still
the sea gull stands on one leg
silently watching


In this moment...
7 July 2011

ahead of myself
again falling behind when
sun shines through the clouds
time stops in blissful awareness

Change...
25 May 2011

it is not about writing whatever you think
stuff that is gone in a blink down the sink
more often of interest is whence it arose
when think has been thunk and then goes
estimation of self in the writing and art
was certainly once the importantest part
underscoring mimesis and Chiron in guises
organization and representation surprises
receptivity something deep has changed
and Calliope muses the rhyme rearranged
to manticore and transliminal semaphor

Now theres food for thought
16 May 2011

old questions long questions
questions we cannot answer
impractical nonsensical in that sense
because what there is to do is
work. shop. live.
the answer clearly printed
in the window near starbucks
where i learn that YOU bought
228 million pounds of responsibly grown
ethically traded coffee last year

now theres food for thought
as i sip my 2 dollar chai

Crossroads
14 May 2011

a little after 8 at the crossroads in dundonald park and i know it is not so much the rhyme but the time it takes to make my inevitable mistake and struggle awake

as disconnected blank and empty never filled by interaction not what i see nor want to be this tired old theme again scrawls through my pen and then

in the center as old women tai chi through their mimickry i see one woman in a lightweight salmon pink coat on the southeast leg where she moves alone in different form by nature not by rote but inner knowing

her movements are small delicate at first last only a few minutes and soon she crosses the center to find her spot on the northeast leg where she begins to move through one set of action-repetitions to the next completely engaged completing the cycle working each limb and articulation attending not to power but to function focused awareness united with qi she flows through the channels of her body

and resurrected then i apprehend the blank and empty i defend inside my head the qi that cannot flow that cannot go that loops but cannot mend my soul

once more i know the path to take and now it comes as no surprise when i arise that our eyes meet in gratitude i bow and she bows in reply

Dundonald Park was once a 3-way crossroads; now it connects five paths.


Image Credit: MapQuest

The Southwest leg (Bay at Maclaren)
of the Dundonald Park Crossroads.

At The Crossroads
Gypsy Magic (12.01.10) Accessed 13.05.11.

Crossroads are considered sacred in almost all magical traditions. A crossroads is a universally accepted place to hold rituals, leave offerings, or dispose of items you wish to be rid of.

It is believed that Hecate rules over the three-way crossroads. She can see the past, present, and future. [...]

Metaphysically, a crossroads is a place of sacred transformations, a metaphor for transformational points in our lives, and relate to time and choices. It is a place to go to unblock your path.

The Snail
7 May 2011

a long walk tired now not far from home several paces along an earthen path still moist from nightime rain a suitable spot screened by small trees affords privacy and relief and finished there am more aware can take my steps with greater care as watching where i walk not seen before nor crushed beneath my sandal a snail slowly glides across my path the trace it leaves behind evidence of its track a straight line how direct how daring or perhaps oblivious while carrying one's house upon one's back