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Dearest David,

What fun these haiku are tonight! Waiting for something to somehow

find a way to make a poem about Ryokan and Teishin, I dropped by

Harsha's and found this cool piece by you, David Dear. This one, it

made me laugh right out loud -

Girl gabbing on cell phonePissing me offIn some other language

((( I remember a time back in 1986, I had just turned 31 and I was

dating a younger man. We went to Berkeley, to some young people's

coofee-house hang-out. I hadn't started at Sac State yet, and I

really felt like a fish in a sandbox, sheesh, I felt about ninty and

just had the most uncomfortable time, until I was aided and

propel-propped to zoom past the identity crisis by some Beck's dark

brew, thus eliminating the inner sound of Boo Hoo to a wonderfully

resounding, Woo Hoo.

When Bob's father was in Saint Mary's in San Francisco being treated

for cancer, we made several trips there together. On one occasion I

waited at a local coffee shop because all the family was gathering to

discuss family matters of which I had no involvement at that time.

It was raining that day, dark and heavy sky'd with people taking

refuge in the coffee shops and bistros. In the one I found myself

sitting in, nearly everyone was working with laptops and lapping up

coffee while reading the paper simultaneously, and carrying on

conversations with friends. The place buzzed with banter about war

and peace. I simply sat there sucking it all up and taking mental

notes about how I might somehow wind all these words and smells and

sensations into a poem or a story. The thing that ended up coming

from that day's experience was this, after I later returned to the

hospital with Robert to visit his father -

December 12 6:27 PM PST

"Tuesday"

On Tuesday we spent the day with Robert’s father, Emmet O’Hearn, at

St. Mary's hospital. This frail and beautiful being reminds me of

Stanley Kunitz, physically. The spruff of white hair, like a baby

bird in the nest might have, brought forth the most poignant

motherliness, a desire to spread my arms like wings and protect him

from the world which is even now quickly disappearing from his

outward gaze. He is turning inward and the senses are giving way to a

more powerful call from some inner Harmony entreating him to follow it

inside, into the Heart. Dear, Beloved Emmet is at the precipice to

Death, a voyage one must go into alone...

....the same voyage that brought him into this world to live and Love

and experience This, all of it as it is…and to know the profound

Mercy, the Utterly Inconceivable Grace offered in the human form, in

his human form as Emmet O’Hearn, father, friend, Beloved, husband and

more, the Absolute playing as Maya.

Holding hands at the Lovers Leap into the Vastness, the Abundance of

Nothing, That Which Cannot Be Said, Love, the Self, is embraced in

the Bliss of tasting the understanding of, "There is only One."

Luminious Darkness, Self-Induced Intoxication, this wandering

minstrel of the Mystery manifested as coalesced Light, creation’s own

particular Beloved called Emmet, now begins the disentanglement of the

knots of identification to the body, to the mind and all that arose

from it…Like a phoenix we rise from our own funeral ashes, being

already burst into flaming spirit essence and are reborn, re-adored

as what Adoration Itself planned in pre-existence – to be Sabu,

played with, by and as God. Absolute and Maya are not different.

Allah and Emmet are not different. Beautiful, Beautiful

Heart-breaking Love! OneHeart in cosmic exploration of itSelf…Tuesday

in San Francisco the Beloved One touched His Own Heart when the last

thing I saw before I walked out of the hospital room was Robert’s

Darling father smiling, smiling like God, like Christ-Light breaking

through and saying, "Beloved children, I Love You always. I am with

You always."

SOMETIMES I FORGET COMPLETELY - Rumi

Sometimes I forget completely what companionship is.

Unconscious and insane, I spill sad energy everywhere.

My story gets told in various ways:

A romance, a dirty joke, a war, a vacancy.

Divide up my forgetfulness to any number, it will go around.

These dark suggestions that I follow, are they part of some plan?

Friends, be careful. Don't come near me out of curiosity, or sympathy.

~Coleman Barks - Rumi

((( Great stuff David, thanks for that...

 

LoveAlways,

Mazie

 

Rainy morning -People in StarbucksTalk about moneyRainy morning -A

Yale student readsA book I never finishedYale girl in StarbucksBends

over her laptop---Red thong!!!Waiting for my latte -Hey! That guyJust

stole my table.Starbucks filling up -I might have to goSomewhere

elseThat man with one arm -He's waiting outsideTo ask me for

moneyGirl gabbing on cell phonePissing me offIn some other languageAt

the next table:"That's a finger puppet"--- "Yeah I know"This isn't

going anywhere -Isn't there somethingBesides the breath?--David Share

holiday photos without swamping your Inbox. Get MSN Extra Storage now!

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Dear david and mazie...

two of my favorite crazies

(bad rhyme, but fun)

Haiku, I mean achoo!!!

Rainy morning-

on Joyce's desk :-)

Three- six-nine

Aren't I fine?

Done.

One...

never two

I love you...

Love and kisses (no red thongs, Davidji)

Just a germy breath to thee!!!

Joyce

-

Mazie Lane

Monday, November 24, 2003 2:29 AM

Re: Starbuck's Haiku

(I've been writing these over the past few months and thought I'd

share. The Starbucks I visit on weekends is near the campus of Yale

University, hence the references to Yale)

Dearest David,

What fun these haiku are tonight! Waiting for something to somehow

find a way to make a poem about Ryokan and Teishin, I dropped by

Harsha's and found this cool piece by you, David Dear. This one, it

made me laugh right out loud -

Girl gabbing on cell phonePissing me offIn some other language

((( I remember a time back in 1986, I had just turned 31 and I was

dating a younger man. We went to Berkeley, to some young people's

coofee-house hang-out. I hadn't started at Sac State yet, and I

really felt like a fish in a sandbox, sheesh, I felt about ninty and

just had the most uncomfortable time, until I was aided and

propel-propped to zoom past the identity crisis by some Beck's dark

brew, thus eliminating the inner sound of Boo Hoo to a wonderfully

resounding, Woo Hoo.

When Bob's father was in Saint Mary's in San Francisco being treated

for cancer, we made several trips there together. On one occasion I

waited at a local coffee shop because all the family was gathering to

discuss family matters of which I had no involvement at that time.

It was raining that day, dark and heavy sky'd with people taking

refuge in the coffee shops and bistros. In the one I found myself

sitting in, nearly everyone was working with laptops and lapping up

coffee while reading the paper simultaneously, and carrying on

conversations with friends. The place buzzed with banter about war

and peace. I simply sat there sucking it all up and taking mental

notes about how I might somehow wind all these words and smells and

sensations into a poem or a story. The thing that ended up coming

from that day's experience was this, after I later returned to the

hospital with Robert to visit his father -

December 12 6:27 PM PST

"Tuesday"

On Tuesday we spent the day with Robert’s father, Emmet O’Hearn, at

St. Mary's hospital. This frail and beautiful being reminds me of

Stanley Kunitz, physically. The spruff of white hair, like a baby

bird in the nest might have, brought forth the most poignant

motherliness, a desire to spread my arms like wings and protect him

from the world which is even now quickly disappearing from his

outward gaze. He is turning inward and the senses are giving way to a

more powerful call from some inner Harmony entreating him to follow it

inside, into the Heart. Dear, Beloved Emmet is at the precipice to

Death, a voyage one must go into alone...

....the same voyage that brought him into this world to live and Love

and experience This, all of it as it is…and to know the profound

Mercy, the Utterly Inconceivable Grace offered in the human form, in

his human form as Emmet O’Hearn, father, friend, Beloved, husband and

more, the Absolute playing as Maya.

Holding hands at the Lovers Leap into the Vastness, the Abundance of

Nothing, That Which Cannot Be Said, Love, the Self, is embraced in

the Bliss of tasting the understanding of, "There is only One."

Luminious Darkness, Self-Induced Intoxication, this wandering

minstrel of the Mystery manifested as coalesced Light, creation’s own

particular Beloved called Emmet, now begins the disentanglement of the

knots of identification to the body, to the mind and all that arose

from it…Like a phoenix we rise from our own funeral ashes, being

already burst into flaming spirit essence and are reborn, re-adored

as what Adoration Itself planned in pre-existence – to be Sabu,

played with, by and as God. Absolute and Maya are not different.

Allah and Emmet are not different. Beautiful, Beautiful

Heart-breaking Love! OneHeart in cosmic exploration of itSelf…Tuesday

in San Francisco the Beloved One touched His Own Heart when the last

thing I saw before I walked out of the hospital room was Robert’s

Darling father smiling, smiling like God, like Christ-Light breaking

through and saying, "Beloved children, I Love You always. I am with

You always."

SOMETIMES I FORGET COMPLETELY - Rumi

Sometimes I forget completely what companionship is.

Unconscious and insane, I spill sad energy everywhere.

My story gets told in various ways:

A romance, a dirty joke, a war, a vacancy.

Divide up my forgetfulness to any number, it will go around.

These dark suggestions that I follow, are they part of some plan?

Friends, be careful. Don't come near me out of curiosity, or sympathy.

~Coleman Barks - Rumi

((( Great stuff David, thanks for that...

LoveAlways,

Mazie

Rainy morning -People in StarbucksTalk about moneyRainy morning -A

Yale student readsA book I never finishedYale girl in StarbucksBends

over her laptop---Red thong!!!Waiting for my latte -Hey! That guyJust

stole my table.Starbucks filling up -I might have to goSomewhere

elseThat man with one arm -He's waiting outsideTo ask me for

moneyGirl gabbing on cell phonePissing me offIn some other languageAt

the next table:"That's a finger puppet"--- "Yeah I know"This isn't

going anywhere -Isn't there somethingBesides the breath?--David

Share holiday photos without swamping your Inbox. Get MSN Extra

Storage now!

/join

"Love itself

is the actual form of God."Sri RamanaIn "Letters from Sri

Ramanasramam" by Suri Nagamma Your use of is subject to

the

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