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: ZEN :

- Black Mountain Zen Centre

What I love about summer (soon to be… but feelin’ it– isn’t it ’official’ next week sometime?) is that I can catch up on reading some interesting meanderings and works that I didn’t get the chance to in the past months.  Diggin’ Brad Warner’s Sit Down and Shut Up along with Hardcore Zen:

 The universe is more than just facts- more, even than the sum of all facts that make it up. The universe is meaningful. The universe is meaning- as well as matter. The two are not different… By the same token, the universe may indeed be described as a mere collection of molecules and atoms thrown together more or less at random. But that’s just one side of the coin… Enlightenment does not make anyone morally infalliable. Fuggedaboutit!Enlightenment, if we can even say there is such a thing, comes when you can no longer deceive yourself with the excuse that you didn’t know any better when you do fall off the moral wagon.

Chapter 11 : Evil Is Stupid

Clear, concise and no BS from Mr Warner… I like that.

 -cheers

The Rise of Street Literature

- Gia Bao Tran

Almah LaVon Rice reminds us in Colorlines that Master W.Shakespeare is absolutely timeless, especially within Urban-Lit which seriously needs some deeper analysis and merit.

Thoughts, comments… rants? Spew away.

 

 

: PrAjnA :

time as river flowing

life as dream

death as sleep

love as illness

life as play/stage

wisdom as light

eyes as stars

book as world

human being as tree

music as food

etc., etc.

-Susan Sontag  : role of Metaphor :

: gobbledigook :

Summer is coming… Sigur Ros’ new video makes me want to go camping and make s’mores– among other fun things.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thinking of Other Things…

 

Our creative emotions are not subject to command and

do not tolerate force.  They can only be coaxed.  Once coaxed, they

begin to wish, and wishing they begin to yearn for action.

-Konstantin Stanislavski

Silence

out there in the world

you complain of a culture of silence

where nothing can be heard

because nothing can be understood

because there are no words

conversations cannot happen

the agenda has been set

there is no other business but business

& business

                is business as usual

no debate; no dissent

no disease; no dictators

no discussion; no death

no dreams & no democracy

& making a fuss

& shaking things up

                            is frustrating

                                              maybe futile

so it’s funny that

in here; in our lives

I complain of a culture of silence

where nothing can be heard

because nothing can be understood

because there are no words

there is no time to talk

& our patterns have been set

& there is no other living but living

& living

is living

& there is no other loving but loving

& loving

is loving

           is living

                      is business as usual

no debate: no dissent

no fear; no feelings

no flames; no failling

no finding; no found

& making a fuss

& shaking things up

                             is frustrating

                                               maybe futile

so it’s funny that

out there in the world

you complain of a culture of silence

 

 -Elspeth Murray

 

 

 

 

 

 

Weather Report

 

The Roman poets

Under Ceausescu, Liliana

said, would codify opposition

 

 

to the despots in this manner: because

there was no gas and they were cold, everyone

was cold, all they had to do was write

 

 

how cold it is… so cold… and these

readers knew exactly what was meant.

No one had to go to jail

for that.

 

 

Liliana, in the dead of night

writing her poems

with gloves on.

 

 

I think I’ll take off my gloves.

It’s freezing in here.

There’s a glacier pressing on my heart.

 

- Tess Gallagher

: Populaire :

Reality is a question

of realizing how real

the world is already.

 

 Time is Eternity,

ultimate & immovable;

everyone’s an angel.

 

Allen Ginsberg

 

: Relic Husband :

chapeau

When will the stone open its tomb?…

You will not die, nor come home

Ted Hughes

: ferveur :

belle

I’m no more your mother

Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow

Effacement at the wind’s hand.

Sylvia Plath