Saturday, September 24, 2016

The Black Whole


Compassion is the default position of seeing.


Being is the only known.
Only being is known by the unknown.

If being is the only known,
and only being is known by the unknown,

then there's truly nothing
but being.


A mountain rises from the sleeping giant.
The sun is speaking from rare air.

The sun is my heart.
And I am that black hole from which the sun shines.

As the earth knows itself to be the sun,
the sun is an embodiment of that great black hole.


In this world, the language of the black hole is
the words of revelation.

Between divided emotions lovingly awaits deep sleep.
Or enlightenment in some translations.

Picture the sun as the source of the body
in tangerine clouds of absolute sky.


There's the unknown.
I am. And evolutionary intent of mind.

One not busy translating is a busy body—
urge urge urge of the procreant east.

For the discerning, 
the intelligent, the intensely questioning.


Furthur.

Ode to Affectionate Awareness

Ordinary is to time 
as nothing is to space—
conceptual pain-killers.

Being is beyond space-time
and so dangerous to personal attachments.

Resting in being begins
in the universal and eternal
and ends in the infinite and timeless.

O nothing and ordinary
is to universal and eternal
is to infinite and timeless
as personal is to being is to absolute.


Simply put,
we are conditioned to think personally
despite feeling universally—

like looking at my sometimes great surroundings
and experiencing beyond a notion
all is one
being.

Being is what love feels in-between the lines.
Affectionate awareness is such a wise and lovely name
for this essence of experience.

This affectionate awareness is the new frontier.
This not a thought, this feeling, this affectionate awareness.
This intuition is a two-dollar word for this affectionate awareness.


Revelation is the existing space
between ignorance and projection.

Intuition
is to the personal
as affectionate awareness is to being
as revelation is to pure awareness.

Deconstruct the personal.
Feel the universal being.
Absolution...


Wednesday, September 21, 2016

monster (in compassionate reply)

it’s the monster they fear 
that makes the monster they hear 
their champion. 

thus you shall never overcome 
a monster just by calling it 
a monster.

one can only see through
its monstrous clothes
child.

Monday, September 12, 2016

Après Moi, Je Suis: Is Is Not An Ism

Existence is personal
Conceptual.
Being is universal
Affectionate.

Existentialism is
A personal conceptual philosophy.
Being (not an -ism) is
Universal affectionate wisdom.

Philosophies are world views
Again making
Re-fictionalize
Reification.

Being is universal wisdom
Negative making
De-fictionalize
Deification.

Personal philosophies are conceptual dead ends.
One only comes to the parent through the child
The absolute through being.

Footnote—
Most religions are belief systems
Philosophies concerning the metaphysical
Dead-ending in a conceptual god—
Thank god for mystics.


Saturday, September 10, 2016

The Country of Perfection

My gurus have always been stop signs and red lights 
Just a dream wrapped in a dreamer inside a dreaming.

This country of evolution is perfection as it is
All crickets and the sound of no boats on a September river.

Knowing what I’m not reveals I am the only knowledge
This red dirt muddy water universe beginning and ending.

On the silver sands of self-awareness.

I saw a sign
She is a dream
This universe
Perfection as it is.

I heard a world
The silence spoke
We are the word
That self-awareness is.

I saw a sign
That lightning struck
This thunder cried
A sign is always I.

I am
The sign.

Monday, August 22, 2016

Son Mountain 17: A Cold Mountain Transcreation

This place of my retreat,
so secret, it’s difficult to express—
without a wind, the wild vines stir,
without a mist, the bamboo is in the dark,
who do the mountain streams cry for,
why are clouds assembling together?
I sit in my hut at noon
suddenly realizing the sun is risen.



(from the translations of RP175, RH-176, BW-46)

Son Mountain 16: A Cold Mountain Transcreation

Layer on layer of mountains and rivers,
cerulean film enclosed in rose-colored clouds—
a brush of mist soaks my cotton bandana,
morning dew dampens this coat of straw,
on my feet are sojourning sandals,
in my hand is a bamboo cane.
Again gazing beyond the dust of the world
not bothered by the dreams of that land.


(from the translations of RP106, RH-106, BW-44)

Son Mountain 15: A Cold Mountain Transcreation

Divining a far-flung place to dwell,
Peace of Heaven—there’s nothing more to say.
Gibbons cry from the cold mists of the valley,
glowing peaks merge into a grass gate,
leaves thatch the roof of a home in the pines,
a pond is channeled from a spring.
Content at last to drop the world,
picking ferns as the years fall away.


(from the translations of RP79, RH-78, BW-43)

Saturday, August 20, 2016

Son Mountain 14: A Cold Mountain Transcreation

My home is below lush green cliffs
with weeds in the yard uncropped—
vines hang in spiraling loops,
ancient rock rises high and steep,
monkeys gather the highland fruit,
egrets fill their bills with fish from the pond.
One or two scrolls of the immortals
go murmuring under the trees.


(from the translations of RP22, RH-16, BW-72)

Friday, August 19, 2016

On Cold Mountain, Translations, and 19


There appears to be more than one cold mountain—the real cold mountain is an absolute cold mountain—the rest are but limited buddhist frauds.

Intent at this point is transcreate all or most of what i see as absolute cold mountain—maybe less than 10% of the collection—but who knows?

By reading three translations of a single poem, one sees the poem that hasn't been translated. I call this triangulating the translations.


Just got a book called 19 ways of looking at wang wei with 19 translations of a single poem. In cribbage it's impossible to get a hand of 19.

Father and uncle playing cribbage on a red picnic table at half moon lake—when one has zero for a hand, cards thrown in disgust crying "19!"

Cribbage hand can score up to 29—also no 25, 26, 27 but 28 & 29 are quite rare—20 thru 24 will be seen making the absence of 19 noteworthy.


So a 19-sided polygon is known as an enneadecagon or enneakaidecagon or anonadecagon. So i'm off anonadecagonning.