Guest guest Posted May 24, 2009 Report Share Posted May 24, 2009 dear ordinary sparrow, thank you for writing this. I enjoyed your exploration, and I enjoy how you try and take pattterns of consciousness you may be experiencing and your creative effort to put them into form. I feel I understand most of what you say, and it makes a lot of sense to me. The creative femine has been presenting itself today, both in the form or your explorations and beautiful poetry, and in the form of a lovely friend I spent time with today who is bristling with creativity. I enoy poetry and sometimes write. I wrote the following when I was 'waking up' to the duality of the mind, and how everything I thought and said contained within itself its opposite. I tried to write them as a mirror image, using opposite words yet the same structure. I was also struggling at the time with the K. process, being thrown between bliss and despair. The entire poem is called 'the whole picture'. The whole picture. 1. Light. Eros awakens me To the ideal of Romance, love, beauty. Again and again, After the waves of tiredness have passed, I fall in love with that Which can only be Truth. Beauty. The laughter of my beloved. The warmth of summer sand and blue waves Crashing in the welcoming beach. My hand reaches to my heart, My heart whispers to the Divine Friend. Come again. Find me. Let us lose ourselves in Love and be free forever Within this consumated world. My Love. My Love. 2. Dark. Thanatos tires me in the reality of Dullness, hate, ugliness. Again and again, Before the waves of excitement have arisen I struggled in hatred with that Which can only be false. Revulsion. The screams of my enemies. The cold of winter sand and brown waves Raping the desolate beach. My hand falls from my heart. My heart rages against the Divine Friend. Go away. Forget me. Make me find myself in loneliness and stay trapped forever Within this forsaken world. My struggle. My struggle. Currently I am most interested in how the one manifests into the many, or how freedom (emptiness) and being grounded in freedom, comes into fullness, and how I can live that relationship. Much of my poetry reflects that relationship. Here is an example, and how that relationship helped me kiss someone for the first time. I wrote this in a coffee shop with her.. Part 1: Before Sitting in a Taiwanese coffee shop, rock music intrudes from hanging speakers. A coffee maker repeatedly bangs his tools on the counter. I'm asked, in the midst of this distracting, blunt noise, to perform, creating something of beauty, of stillness, of softness, to produce some vehicle that will (hopefully) lift her spirit and raise her smiles. To do this, I must first, drop this world of sounds and thoughts and colors and feelings. I first drop deep into my own unfathomnable stillness, letting go into that unshakeable, unmovable, spacious center from which all love and goodness and (surprisingly to the blind believers) all darkness and suffering are born. And, from this stillness, in this stillness, I feel her. I feel her presence, I sense the wry smile on her lips, notice her supple body extended casually across the sofa, draped without resistance like a jacket dropped over a chair after another long hard day at work. I feel her, next to me, and offer her this stillness from which birth arises. How beautiful, that, she, too, can drop the coarse noise of blaring speakers and noisy baristas. Just drop all that, drop her thoughts, drop her feelings, drop her distractions, letting go, letting go into spacious peace, into I, into us, and be here, still, present, for a moment unmoving, waiting for the next creative impulse to arise from the stillness to light her thoughts, and speech, again, ever new, ever unknown, ever fresh. Breathe in. Part 2: After She loved the poem. I lent forward and kissed her for the first time. To steal lines from before (and usually, I hate to repeat myself) `the next creative impulse arose from the stillness.' Stillness pulled us into movement creating kisses and lips and warmth and soft silky wetness, where, moments before there had been only a world of coarse, clamoring sound. A world now replaced by the stunned, thunderous silence of kissing. She looked at me. `That was too easy' she said. Zen Mind answered `It's neither easy nor difficult. When the wind blows the trees, the leaves make a sound.' love Bruce -- In , " ordinarysparrow " <ordinarysparrow wrote: > > dear Bruce. . . > > Thanks for your response to the dream and we do share some similar > dreaming awareness. . .I find it difficult to place into language the > evolving dreamscapes and how they morph. . . > > In 1995 i went into the Void, or at least that is what i called it at > the time. . .now know it was when K Ma made her ascent to the crown and > amrit poured from the crown and produced a new birth. . . > > After comming out of that intense 40 days, began to experiment with > poetry, not so much with language for i am really challenged with > language, but started exploring form. . . wanted to convey > energetically the experience of the new birth in awareness through form > in poetry. . . > > At first started with wanting to convey the integration of > masculine/feminine by placing two separate poems side by side and having > them flow into one poem that held together. . .then it started to morph > as i became aware of the more subtle awareness of consciousness. . . The > Tao Symbol became the consciousness energetic i was living and trying > to identify and adjust to as i experienced the inner world and also as i > began to experience the relating with others. . . > > I will try to place the first poems i attempted, it tries to captures a > bit of the energetic experience and imagery that was present in the Void > experience. . . am not for sure it will format. . except maybe on the > actual forum page??? > > Like the Tao it has nine different possible energetics within the One > poem. . . > > The poem can be read right to left, both starting at the top and reading > down or starting at the bottom and reading up =2, The red poem can be > read both top to bottom and bottom to top =2, same for the blue =2 and > the red poem can be the lead and read before the blue if the poem is > rolled into a column and can be read up and down=2, and the 9th poem is > the energetic of all going on at once. . .and for me that is the circle > that contains all action all movement , consciousness in it's still > silence awareness. . . > > In trying to find a way to communicate the experience of awareness after > the void experience, have often thought it is a replica of the energetic > Tao, and as i interact there is the experience of the dynamic within > and it is also within the person i am interacting and that all is > interacting with each other. . .These days Bruce i have a greater > appreciation for how we humans are able to communicate and interact as > well as we do for we are not static and fixed but are ever evolving > dynamic energetic expression of life. . .I think at every moment we are > energetically expressing masculine and feminine, heaven and earth, with > spirals moving up and spirals moving down. . . whether there is > awareness of it or not. . .we are ever changing energetics. . .not based > on multiple aspects created by the mind such as in personality for once > those are looked at and worked with they dissolve into the nothingness > of mind, whereas the deeper levels seem to suggest that we are dynamic, > and static is or one dimensional is always illusion. . . . The egoic > mind spends so much time trying to fix and make consistent, and we and > no one else can be placed in the fixed boxes. . .maybe each of us are in > truth poetry in motion. . .that is what i have come to call the play > with poem form. . .since the first one have utilized different sacred > geometry to try to create sacred form in poems. . .i work with three > teachers energetically, and realized when all four of us are working > together the interactions of four people, or four gates such as the > Native Medicine Wheel or Tibetian Medicine Mandala come together and > energetically create the Sri Yantra. . .i was able to created One poem > using the Tao concepts, with the four gates that made 85 poems in One. > . .some how the playing with form in poetry is slowly opening some gates > of consciousness into the dynamic action of sacred geometry. .It seems > to me that all of sacred geomentry is showing that All is One no matter > how complex it may appear. . .i have no desire to ever publish this > play with poetry and form but it has been an opening. i so love how > K Ma opens and helps us through creative play and exploration. . . > > Bruce truly this may not make any sense except in my own little mind, > but felt in reading your exploration of dreams, your mind shares some > of the same ways of exploration. . . It seems to me that much of duality > is a function of how the brain processes the world and that different > areas of the brain can be observed in the witnesssing functioning of > dreaming just like the awareness of experience the dynamic energetic > world?. . . and as always honor and love to you. . .and to all. . > > thanks for you Bruce. . . . > > ordinary sparrow > > ONE > > > > [http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IyUS8JrtgKw/R-acwySQCKI/AAAAAAAACAI/NEC85wshF\ > uQ/s400/Blue+Horses+c.bmp] > <http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IyUS8JrtgKw/R-acwySQCKI/AAAAAAAACAI/NEC85wshF\ > uQ/s1600-h/Blue+Horses+c.bmp> > > > > > music i have loved struggled the acceptance of billowy jazz > music that chiseled the body raw rasp > the lower brain in the womb knew the beat > living what i knew not knowing that i knew > the most profound close to the ground > deep loam leaf revealing memory has many forms > dancing knives and braided spirals weaving and vortexing > precisely pried straight stronger than flint > like an arrow into heart chambered space > never touched by human hands it split the tree > flamed sword seeking pure nitrogen ignited explosion > sounds like raspy jazz womb creating > deep alpha imagined by sound similiar to wind > beta to delta ancient crickets to drumming thunder > ascending and descending similar to jazz > the undulating pulsation dreaming heart beating on > thousands of ancient years expanded the container > thousands of ancient miles love it's only master > lightening strike earth's seed growth > two bolts becoming one inspiration and stimulation > potential of many equanimity for all > dew for the dawning red river flowing > blue horses running free > all is within Devi has many forms > awe that jazz all is one > > > , " bruce_oom " > <bruce_oom@> wrote: > > > > Hi Ordinary Sparrow, > > > > it was interesting to read your dream. There seem to be sveral > similiar features in my dreaming experience. I am almost always the > witness, and I will watch 'me' in the dream, and now there is almost a > female with me, who is usually a guide or a playmate. > > I have had lucid dream experiences where the body gets immobilized, > and usually I am fighting some component of the dream. On trying to > mobilize the body, I usually come out of dream consciousness first and > then I can begin to move. One example was in Thailand a few years ago, > where I dreamt there was a leopard that had come through the window into > my room. I decided that because the leopard was in the room, I would > roll out the bed on the other side and hide. I didnt know I was > dreaming, and on trying to roll, my body wouldnt work. That disturbed me > as being paralyzed, I was waiting to be eaten!! Anyway, I then realized > it was a dream, imagined the leopard gone, then my body came online and > I could move... > > > > I had an interesting dream last night with the feminine and the > masculine. Again, I was witnessing myself in a group of people, and > their car had been damaged and broken down. It was the fault of a > horrible older man (shadow!!) with an injured knee, who was coming back, > and we were going to set a trap and catch him. We had fire extenquishers > as weopons. So, we waited, and he came back. Before he came back, the me > I was witnessing analysed the dream while in the dream, and deduced that > the older man was shadow and that the injured knee was a chakra/energtic > blockage that needed healing. The girl then said no, actually the > injury meant the man couldnt walk fast towards his destination, and it > meant that he was slowing down my journey (the sabotaged/accident car), > and that's why I was angry with him and didnt like him. I then saw this > in the context of how I do not always stay focused to my goals, and slow > down through getting distracted, and sometimes get frustrated with the > 'old man dithering aspect of me .. lol).. > > > > lots of interesting things happen in the dream world.. > > > > love > > Bruce > > > > , > " ordinarysparrow " ordinarysparrow@ wrote: > > > > > > Yesterday morning had such a strange intense dream. . . > > > > > > > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted May 24, 2009 Report Share Posted May 24, 2009 Namaste dear Bruce. . .thanks for sharing your poems and your process of becoming. . .both are so very sound, beautiful, and authentic. . .it is a blessing to share the path with such a kind, gentle, loving, deep soul brother. . . love and light ordinary sparrow , " bruce_oom " <bruce_oom wrote: > > dear ordinary sparrow, > > thank you for writing this. I enjoyed your exploration, and I enjoy how you try and take pattterns of consciousness you may be experiencing and your creative effort to put them into form. I feel I understand most of what you say, and it makes a lot of sense to me. > The creative femine has been presenting itself today, both in the form or your explorations and beautiful poetry, and in the form of a lovely friend I spent time with today who is bristling with creativity. > > I enoy poetry and sometimes write. I wrote the following when I was 'waking up' to the duality of the mind, and how everything I thought and said contained within itself its opposite. I tried to write them as a mirror image, using opposite words yet the same structure. I was also struggling at the time with the K. process, being thrown between bliss and despair. The entire poem is called 'the whole picture'. > > The whole picture. > > 1. Light. > > Eros awakens me > To the ideal of > Romance, love, beauty. > Again and again, > After the waves of tiredness have passed, > I fall in love with that > Which can only be Truth. > > Beauty. > The laughter of my beloved. > The warmth of summer sand and blue waves > Crashing in the welcoming beach. > My hand reaches to my heart, > My heart whispers to the Divine Friend. > Come again. > Find me. > Let us lose ourselves in Love and be free forever > Within this consumated world. > My Love. > My Love. > > 2. Dark. > > Thanatos tires me > in the reality of > Dullness, hate, ugliness. > Again and again, > Before the waves of excitement have arisen > I struggled in hatred with that > Which can only be false. > > Revulsion. > The screams of my enemies. > The cold of winter sand and brown waves > Raping the desolate beach. > My hand falls from my heart. > My heart rages against the Divine Friend. > Go away. > Forget me. > Make me find myself in loneliness and stay trapped forever > Within this forsaken world. > My struggle. > My struggle. > > > > Currently I am most interested in how the one manifests into the many, or how freedom (emptiness) and being grounded in freedom, comes into fullness, and how I can live that relationship. Much of my poetry reflects that relationship. Here is an example, and how that relationship helped me kiss someone for the first time. I wrote this in a coffee shop with her.. > > Part 1: Before > > Sitting in a Taiwanese coffee shop, > rock music intrudes from hanging speakers. > A coffee maker repeatedly > bangs his tools on the counter. > I'm asked, in the > midst of this distracting, blunt noise, > to perform, creating something of beauty, > of stillness, of softness, > to produce some vehicle that will > (hopefully) > lift her spirit and raise her smiles. > > To do this, I must > first, drop this world of sounds and thoughts and colors and feelings. > I first drop deep into my own unfathomnable stillness, > letting go into that unshakeable, unmovable, > spacious center from which all > love and goodness and > (surprisingly to the blind believers) > all darkness and suffering > are born. > And, from this stillness, in this stillness, > I feel her. > I feel her presence, > I sense the wry smile on her lips, > notice her supple body extended casually across the sofa, > draped without resistance like a jacket > dropped over a chair after another long hard day at work. > I feel her, next to me, > and offer her this stillness from which birth arises. > How beautiful, that, > she, too, can drop the coarse noise > of blaring speakers and noisy baristas. > Just drop all that, drop her thoughts, drop her feelings, > drop her distractions, > letting go, letting go into spacious peace, > into I, into us, > and be here, still, present, > for a moment unmoving, > waiting for the next creative impulse to arise from the stillness > to light her thoughts, and speech, > again, > ever new, ever unknown, ever fresh. > Breathe in. > > Part 2: After > > She loved the poem. > I lent forward and kissed > her for the first time. > To steal lines from before > (and usually, I hate to repeat myself) > `the next creative impulse arose from the stillness.' > Stillness pulled us into movement > creating kisses and lips and warmth > and soft silky wetness, > where, > moments before there had been > only a world of coarse, clamoring sound. > A world now replaced by the stunned, thunderous silence of kissing. > > She looked at me. > `That was too easy' she said. > Zen Mind answered > `It's neither easy nor difficult. > When the wind blows the trees, > the leaves make a sound.' > > > > love > Bruce > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted May 25, 2009 Report Share Posted May 25, 2009 Namaste, thanks to you too, Ordinary Sparrow, and likewise a blessing to share the path with such a caring sister soul.. and to all the K. family and your lovely voices, I am grateful to share a place of community with you.. love Bruce , " ordinarysparrow " <ordinarysparrow wrote: > > Namaste > > dear Bruce. . .thanks for sharing your poems and your process of > becoming. . .both are so very sound, beautiful, and authentic. . .it is > a blessing to share the path with such a kind, gentle, loving, deep > soul brother. . . > love and light > ordinary sparrow > , " bruce_oom " > <bruce_oom@> wrote: > > > > dear ordinary sparrow, > > > > thank you for writing this. I enjoyed your exploration, and I enjoy > how you try and take pattterns of consciousness you may be experiencing > and your creative effort to put them into form. I feel I understand most > of what you say, and it makes a lot of sense to me. > > The creative femine has been presenting itself today, both in the form > or your explorations and beautiful poetry, and in the form of a lovely > friend I spent time with today who is bristling with creativity. > > > > I enoy poetry and sometimes write. I wrote the following when I was > 'waking up' to the duality of the mind, and how everything I thought and > said contained within itself its opposite. I tried to write them as a > mirror image, using opposite words yet the same structure. I was also > struggling at the time with the K. process, being thrown between bliss > and despair. The entire poem is called 'the whole picture'. > > > > The whole picture. > > > > 1. Light. > > > > Eros awakens me > > To the ideal of > > Romance, love, beauty. > > Again and again, > > After the waves of tiredness have passed, > > I fall in love with that > > Which can only be Truth. > > > > Beauty. > > The laughter of my beloved. > > The warmth of summer sand and blue waves > > Crashing in the welcoming beach. > > My hand reaches to my heart, > > My heart whispers to the Divine Friend. > > Come again. > > Find me. > > Let us lose ourselves in Love and be free forever > > Within this consumated world. > > My Love. > > My Love. > > > > 2. Dark. > > > > Thanatos tires me > > in the reality of > > Dullness, hate, ugliness. > > Again and again, > > Before the waves of excitement have arisen > > I struggled in hatred with that > > Which can only be false. > > > > Revulsion. > > The screams of my enemies. > > The cold of winter sand and brown waves > > Raping the desolate beach. > > My hand falls from my heart. > > My heart rages against the Divine Friend. > > Go away. > > Forget me. > > Make me find myself in loneliness and stay trapped forever > > Within this forsaken world. > > My struggle. > > My struggle. > > > > > > > > Currently I am most interested in how the one manifests into the many, > or how freedom (emptiness) and being grounded in freedom, comes into > fullness, and how I can live that relationship. Much of my poetry > reflects that relationship. Here is an example, and how that > relationship helped me kiss someone for the first time. I wrote this in > a coffee shop with her.. > > > > Part 1: Before > > > > Sitting in a Taiwanese coffee shop, > > rock music intrudes from hanging speakers. > > A coffee maker repeatedly > > bangs his tools on the counter. > > I'm asked, in the > > midst of this distracting, blunt noise, > > to perform, creating something of beauty, > > of stillness, of softness, > > to produce some vehicle that will > > (hopefully) > > lift her spirit and raise her smiles. > > > > To do this, I must > > first, drop this world of sounds and thoughts and colors and feelings. > > I first drop deep into my own unfathomnable stillness, > > letting go into that unshakeable, unmovable, > > spacious center from which all > > love and goodness and > > (surprisingly to the blind believers) > > all darkness and suffering > > are born. > > And, from this stillness, in this stillness, > > I feel her. > > I feel her presence, > > I sense the wry smile on her lips, > > notice her supple body extended casually across the sofa, > > draped without resistance like a jacket > > dropped over a chair after another long hard day at work. > > I feel her, next to me, > > and offer her this stillness from which birth arises. > > How beautiful, that, > > she, too, can drop the coarse noise > > of blaring speakers and noisy baristas. > > Just drop all that, drop her thoughts, drop her feelings, > > drop her distractions, > > letting go, letting go into spacious peace, > > into I, into us, > > and be here, still, present, > > for a moment unmoving, > > waiting for the next creative impulse to arise from the stillness > > to light her thoughts, and speech, > > again, > > ever new, ever unknown, ever fresh. > > Breathe in. > > > > Part 2: After > > > > She loved the poem. > > I lent forward and kissed > > her for the first time. > > To steal lines from before > > (and usually, I hate to repeat myself) > > `the next creative impulse arose from the stillness.' > > Stillness pulled us into movement > > creating kisses and lips and warmth > > and soft silky wetness, > > where, > > moments before there had been > > only a world of coarse, clamoring sound. > > A world now replaced by the stunned, thunderous silence of kissing. > > > > She looked at me. > > `That was too easy' she said. > > Zen Mind answered > > `It's neither easy nor difficult. > > When the wind blows the trees, > > the leaves make a sound.' > > > > > > > > love > > Bruce > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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