Archive for the 'poetry' Category

Nonduality in a poem by Billy Collins and recitation by a 3 year old

August 23, 2010

Neo-Bhakti Irish Poetry by Gabriel Rosenstock

April 15, 2010

Dar Óma

what speeded them on their way?
what distances did they travel?
the sky was full of falling stars …
You draw down too much light -
soon the heavens will all be bare

2

Dar Óma
yesterday
I went looking
for You
and found You
everywhere
particularly
in the flight of swallows
innumerable
in the darkening air

it seemed they wished
to fan the dying sun
to flame

3

Dar Óma

look at this full fruit

falling for You every time

unconsciously

this tree

its limbs Yours

oozing sap

its roots

its perfume Yours

lichen clings to bark

hold me

deep deep down You are always there

awaiting my blossoming in You

kirtana of singing leaves

4

Dar Óma
holding Your image before me
on a screen
increasing percentages
until You disintegrate
like some forgotten galaxy
calling You back again
a retrieval
a respite from senseless oblivion

I know that stars are born
only to die
we see the light
of heavenly bodies
long since gone

this also I know:
Your light shines in me
the universe holds no terror

25

Dar Óma

snake unwinding

from a lightning-blasted tree

I’ve spotted You

why should I flee?

I am already deep in Your eyes

come

take all of me

mercifully

let me assist You

here’s my head firmly in Your jaws

do not use Your fangs

to stun me

let me live

this death in You now

inch by slow inch

35

Dar Óma

I can never forget the yellowhammers

I saw as a child

tiny chicks nesting in a stone wall

such clamour from their throats

such hunger

nearby was a dark Protestant church

it was taboo to enter

God manifested that day in yellow

the colour I see You in now

dust of buttercups

primrose glance

You are the yellowhammer

ensconced in a mossy stone wall

we see each other

from different worlds

for the first time

41

Dar Óma

I went to my excellent physician

author of Addiction Replacement Therapy

he put me on heroin

and monitored my progress steadily

I nodded, sagely

he put me on LSD

the doctor is perplexed

the universe perplexed

~ ~ ~

These have been selections from Uttering Her Name, by Gabriel Rosenstock. There are over a hundred more poems in the book.

Uttering Her Name consists of spontaneous, ecstatic utterances in what the author calls a neo-bhakti style, that is to say a modern slant on those poems of intense devotion which are still read and sung in India today.

Gabriel is considered the greatest living Irish lyric poet.

For more information about Uttering Her Name, please visit

http://www.salmonpoetry.com/details.php?ID=175&a=163

Rafael Stoneman: Poems

April 13, 2010

Poetry by Rafael Stoneman

Singing Tears

the damn has been bursting all along

singing tears of the mountain’s song

the puppet breaks free from its strings

the caterpillar soars with new wings

dreamers shall awaken beyond time

in love with a human heart so divine

the actor surrenders the final mask

in Your light all life comes to bask

a fruit suddenly drops from its tree

such sweetness like honey is to be


She Wanders the Night

I want to break every window in your mind’s house.

And drag down each floor.

You’ve constructed a tower of cards

from a false blueprint.

Instead of building your foundation on Her,

you’ve framed a shadow on stud-less walls.

Nature will shatter your backwards design

and set fire to your five star prison.

A book of poems in your library

may bring you some praise

but no relief.

A new lover may uncoil your kundalini

but not deliver peace.

That simple monk has more in her begging bowl

then your perfumed soul.

She wanders the night like a homeless star.

You with your robes and a closet full of make believe

will bow at her feet and cleanse with tears all pride.

She will teach you how to create a new home

with free hands on a mountain of pure gold.

You will know that She is within you

as you plant flowers at your own grave.

And water seeds in Her eternal womb.

Have you?

Who died and left you ruler of the Universe?

If you see something you don’t agree with, is it because you are not seeing all of yourself?

Or is it because it is your job to preach and lecture your truth to the world you imagine

is outside of you?

What is this complacent lack of compassion that human beings move in?

The heart has no borders and casts no stones.

We can learn perhaps the most from the person with Terretz, who blurts out obscenities.

When we feel offended, it is a great opportunity to go deeper beyond

the maze of maya mind.

Truly I am grateful for all who bring a feeling of offense into my space.

For it lets me know if I am divided or whole.

I am your offended reaction and the space that it dissolves into.

I have freed myself from preference on every level.

Have you?

~ ~ ~

You can find Rafael Stoneman on Facebook

Lao Tzu Re-Visited

February 19, 2010

Those who know, do not say. Those who say, do not know.

Those who know do not say, “Those who say, do not know.”

Those who know “do not” say [that] those who say “do not,” know.

“Those, who know, do not,” say those who say. Do not. Know.

“Those, who know, do not,” say those who say. Do. Not know.

Got a variation? Leave it as a comment.

Rumi, Coleman Barks, on PBS

February 7, 2010

Bruce Morgen writes:

I have made the brief PBS biography of the great universal mystic poet and Sufi role model available via BitTorrent — I found it informative and inspiring. Among those appearing is none other than the prolific Rumi translator himself, Coleman Barks:

http://www.demonoid.com/files/download/HTTP/2125970/5838654

You’ll need to download and
install a BitTorrent client — I
recommend “uTorrent.” When
you’ve gotten the client working,
just use it to open the attached
file and everything else will
happen automagically. The
Wikipedia article on BitTorrent
is pretty good if you want to
learn more. They also have a
decent article on uTorrent
specifically.

Here’s the uTorrent download
link:

http://www.utorrent.com/downloads

and an alternative web link if
you’re uncomfortable opening up
attachments (and because
attachments probably won’t go
through to the group):

http://isohunt.com/download/153884257/%22Rumi+Returning%22.torrent

Wonder

December 24, 2009

Freshness x Surprise = Wonder

Open Mind x Attention = Wonder

Open Heart x Breath = Wonder

Everything = Wonder

Haiku Enlightenment, by Gabriel Rosenstock.

December 4, 2009

On Wednesday, December 2, 2009, on YogaHeart Radio, CDKU, 88.1FM in Halifax, Nova Scotia, we read from Gabriel Rosenstock’s new book Haiku Enlightenment.

We had a lot of fun with the reading, enjoying spontaneous laughs and bursts of joy. Clyde, our guest on the show, had never heard a haiku. He was blown away, as you’ll hear:

yogaheart_20091202.13.30-15.30_haiku.mp3

Listen to the entire radio show here:
yogaheart_20091202.13.30-15.30.mp3

Haiku Enlightenment
by Gabriel Rosenstock

Read an excerpt from Haiku Enlightement
Read another excerpt from Haiku Enlightenment

Order from Amazon.com

a haiku

December 2, 2009

a seagull’s shadow
flashes onto a white wall
a crow in the room

Walt Whitman: Perfume and the Atmosphere – Form and Formlessness

November 29, 2008

Continued from Walt Whitman: Living the Paradox of Nonduality

Song of Myself continues. In the line preceding the lines that follow, Whitman was loafing, leaning, inviting his soul, observing a spear of summer grass. The sense was of solitude and focus. Now the next passage:

Houses and rooms are full of perfumes …. the shelves are crowded with perfumes,
I breathe the fragrance myself, and know it, and like it,
The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.

The atmosphere is not a perfume …. it has no taste of the distillation …. it is odorless,
It is for my mouth forever…. I am in love with it,
I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,
I am mad for it to be in contact with me.

From solitude to crowds, to the smells of life, humanity, and the world, Whitman likes it. He knows that if he lets his attention drop, he could be swallowed up by the concerns of man, worry, consumerism, desperation, and fear. He will not let that happen.

While he says he likes the perfume, he sings that it is the atmosphere that he loves. Forever he speaks from atmosphere itself, not from the crowd of perfumes. He speaks authentically, undisguised, naked. He is mad to know the atmosphere, to touch it and feel it touch him. Notice is now sent that this writing is not going to cater to the multitudes. This is not going to be a hack writing job that will find a place on a shelf with a thousand other perfumes. However, Song of Myself, too, is a perfume.

In the first lines of Song of Myself, Whitman revealed the paradox of nonduality, that we are the same – “Every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you” — and that everyone and every thing, every atom, is distinct and individual: “I lean and loafe at my ease….observing a spear of summer grass.”

We know and see how we are different. Each one of us, each and every thing is a perfume on the shelf. That’s the world. How easy is it to see we are all the same at the very same time that we are different?

Now Whitman is going deeper into the claim that we are the same. Our sameness is the atmosphere. To know the atmosphere is to know the nondual nature of reality. We hear talk of gurus stripping us of our egos, of standing naked before the truth, of shedding the veil that hides the truth. Whitman knows that to contact the atmosphere is to be natural, in nature — “by the bank of the wood,” where water meets soil, where man meets atmosphere — and “undisguised and naked.”

In the lines that follow, in case the reader hasn’t already realized it, Whitman declares the reader “shall possess the origin of all poems,” which is the atmosphere. The poems themselves are perfumes, each one different, each one arising from the same atmosphere, which now the reader, naked and undisguised in the mind, may come to know.

Perfume and atmosphere stand for form and formlessness, respectively. Song of Myself is the revelation that the perfume is the atmosphere, the atmosphere is the perfume, and that they are exactly each other. Joy and celebration are the natural emanations of this realization. Read the first few lines of Song of Myself and identify celebration, sameness, and distinct individuality:

I celebrate myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease….observing a spear of summer grass.

Yet Whitman says “The atmosphere is not a perfume.” He must make it clear that the perfume and the atmosphere are a duality in order for the atmosphere to be seen. Whitman must separate the water and the land. He must get the reader to see the two before seeing the one. He addresses contradiction later in Song of Myself in a famous passage beginning, “Do I contradict myself?”

Walt Whitman: Living the Paradox of Nonduality

November 27, 2008

whitman_walt_1
In Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass, he begins Song of Myself:

I celebrate myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease … observing a spear of summer grass.

These lines describe the paradox of nonduality and how to live.

The paradox is that while we are the same — “…what I assume you shall assume.” “…every atom belonging to to me as good belongs to you.” — everything is distinct: “observing a spear of summer grass.”

And how to live through the paradox? “…celebrate…” “…lean and loafe…” leaves-of-grass_mm

“I … invite my soul,” Whitman says. The soul is the paradox. It is who he is. Paradox is “myself.” “I celebrate myself.”

Read the second part of this treatment of Song of Myself.