Saturday, February 28, 2015
209 Seconds That Will Make You Question Your Entire Existence
it is a day off. i did 3.5 hours of paperwork.
now: there is still sun on my patch on earth.
i walk out...
now: there is still sun on my patch on earth.
i walk out...
Come and hire me, Rabindranath Tagore
"Come and hire me," I cried, while in the morning I was walking on the stone-paved road.
Sword in hand, the King came in his chariot.
He held my hand and said, "I will hire you with my power."
But his power counted for nought, and he went away in his chariot.
In the heat of the midday the houses stood with shut doors.
I wandered along the crooked lane.
An old man came out with his bag of gold.
He pondered and said, "I will hire you with my money."
He weighed his coins one by one, but I turned away.
It was evening. The garden hedge was all aflower.
The fair maid came out and said, "I will hire you with a smile."
Her smile paled and melted into tears, and she went back alone into the dark.
The sun glistened on the sand, and the sea waves broke waywardly.
A child sat playing with shells.
He raised his head and seemed to know me, and said, "I hire you with nothing."
From thenceforward that bargain struck in child's play made me a free man.
Sword in hand, the King came in his chariot.
He held my hand and said, "I will hire you with my power."
But his power counted for nought, and he went away in his chariot.
In the heat of the midday the houses stood with shut doors.
I wandered along the crooked lane.
An old man came out with his bag of gold.
He pondered and said, "I will hire you with my money."
He weighed his coins one by one, but I turned away.
It was evening. The garden hedge was all aflower.
The fair maid came out and said, "I will hire you with a smile."
Her smile paled and melted into tears, and she went back alone into the dark.
The sun glistened on the sand, and the sea waves broke waywardly.
A child sat playing with shells.
He raised his head and seemed to know me, and said, "I hire you with nothing."
From thenceforward that bargain struck in child's play made me a free man.
Ludovico Einaudi - "Divenire" - Live @ Royal Albert Hall London
today i was told i am insecure...well, i make and made myself stay in an unsafe place out of me.
this is must interpret as a reason for instability. and i don't know yet what to do about it.
i am balanced enough in my self and in my known life. but the ground moving with the
pre-stillness of earthquakes gives me moments of unwanted memories,
flashbacks of dis-orientation from childhood.
there is no place to go from there so easily.
but i will find a music to follow.
Friday, February 27, 2015
she came through the void
today the crows fell on the snowfields to pick in the earth
where the snow had started to melt away
and fog started to rise to hide it all inside
imagine to be in the wrong dream, and it is not yours.
i am put up with impossible tasks which i didn't choose.
i love the king's daughter and i long for her kiss and arms.
i long for her as a woman, her warmth, kindness, tenderness.
my skins burns with longing.
i love her as she is.
She is far away and wants me to run all light like laughing sunbeams and flow like the wind.
maybe she likes me to fill rooms with my voice and dance to her heart with my love.
i love her and i want her.
but she says my presence in the universe is quite enough and may be too much already.
she is a wonder, a surprise and astonishment.
i love her voice which is sometimes rough and nearly breaks, it is as if a crow calls me to sleep and the nightingales are already singing in the background.
i love her in many ways and i want her in many ways.
longing and desire may hide love at times and then i feel lost in dark spaces of my self.
she does not stretch out her hand but points, tells me to dig there, in black holes, lonely tunnels,like a mole, shows me to go all through these nights with no oars to row.
i cannot walk out of the laws of attraction and repulsion, i cannot fly out of gravity and still keep my balance. i am quite used to my heaviness by now.
i do not wish to live without longing, the warmth and softness of a woman, however hard headed and croooked she may be, after all, she is the king's daughter and a princess from far away stars and she came through the void and death to be here where i found her to be. so she must be as she is.
i am just a man in this world who wants this woman and nobody else.
my longing is a nutshell on an ocean to find home. my light is my home and my darkness is too, my life is my home and my death is too. she can be part of my home.
desire is in the sky, longing is here.
and love is.here and there.it is and it feels good and right.
i wish she wouldn't try so hard to make me develop as a non-physical being, i am not a beam from a faro though i can be. i am not mere spirit, i cannot drink so much. i'd rather turn into smoke and watch myself across the mountains, forests and lakes, gliding, dreaming, forever changing.
and still, all this is me.
and even though she may not see, it is her too.
meeting mirrors the essence of beings and a being between starts to form and transcend all
words said and deeds done, in good and in bad.
so, now, i breathe and i am and i love and i long. and i let it be.
PS: let us hope this being inbetween will not form into a monster but can also act
as a transformer for light and life and strength to pass through
Visit the sick,Rumi
- Visit the Sick -
Visit the sick, and you will heal yourself.
The ill person may be a Sufi master,
And your kindness will be repaid in wisdom.
Even if the sick person is your enemy,
You will still benefit,
For kindness has the power to transform
Sworn enemies into firm friends.
And if there is no healing of bad feeling,
There certainly will be less ill will,
Because kindness is the greatest of all balms.
The ill person may be a Sufi master,
And your kindness will be repaid in wisdom.
Even if the sick person is your enemy,
You will still benefit,
For kindness has the power to transform
Sworn enemies into firm friends.
And if there is no healing of bad feeling,
There certainly will be less ill will,
Because kindness is the greatest of all balms.
- Molana Jalaluddin Rumi (RA)
-found on fb, Sufi poetry page-
Thursday, February 26, 2015
Eric Clapton - Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight
there is a difference between Mr.Clapton and me, it is clear as mountain water:
i don't want to be told lies.
i don't want to be told lies.
Damien Rice & Lisa Hannigan - Rootless Tree
these things happen as they come,so what, can we not have more dignity ?
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Yo-Yo Ma Dvorak Songs My Mother Taught Me
sorry, my mother didn't sing as far as i remember. she doesn't now, i never heard it anyway
Moby - Walk With Me (Live on 89.3 The Current)
now, don't misunderstand me, I am NOT on the Sweet Jesus wave...but i enjoy the song
we cannot see the light
we cannot see the light
through the smoke of words.
the fire of longing
spreads ashes in the wind.
the pain of being one,
we feel separate from the stars.
as experience is
the root of thought,
the brain disturbs the
rhythms of the heart.
the tides of time
take us here and there.
and only the water
of true tears
will clear the soot
and only love
can show us a way
through the stonefields
of our blind deserts
and the mines of doubt.
This is not romantic AND it is.
The salvation is not in to be loved,
but in to love, oneself, life, death, and
another.
PS: i do never edit poems
through the smoke of words.
the fire of longing
spreads ashes in the wind.
the pain of being one,
we feel separate from the stars.
as experience is
the root of thought,
the brain disturbs the
rhythms of the heart.
the tides of time
take us here and there.
and only the water
of true tears
will clear the soot
and only love
can show us a way
through the stonefields
of our blind deserts
and the mines of doubt.
This is not romantic AND it is.
The salvation is not in to be loved,
but in to love, oneself, life, death, and
another.
PS: i do never edit poems
This early morning
This early morning i passed the mason's yard. The gravestones covered with snow. And i just thought that it is a relief to me that none of them will ever weigh on my chest. I shall be burned and free, my ashes in the forest.
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
o i want to lie down
o i want to lie down
on these white blankets,
of snow, so, cold, so pure
but o it will melt,
it will all melt away.
i want to put my head
at rest in innocence,
touch , and o, the snow,
it will melt and go,
it will leave my ear
in the shivering soil,
and o, what will i hear
the longing of the grass,
the answers of the wind,
and what will i see
with my eyes all water
i will hear me,
i will hear you,
little drops of sound,
music to be found
and to be lost again.
i will sleep, sleep,
and i will die, die,
and i will grow, grow
and flow, flow
with all this
coming out
to be green,
alive and green
on these white blankets,
of snow, so, cold, so pure
but o it will melt,
it will all melt away.
i want to put my head
at rest in innocence,
touch , and o, the snow,
it will melt and go,
it will leave my ear
in the shivering soil,
and o, what will i hear
the longing of the grass,
the answers of the wind,
and what will i see
with my eyes all water
i will hear me,
i will hear you,
little drops of sound,
music to be found
and to be lost again.
i will sleep, sleep,
and i will die, die,
and i will grow, grow
and flow, flow
with all this
coming out
to be green,
alive and green
Monday, February 23, 2015
and now and it is always now
and now
and it is always now
getting slowly tipsy
i wonder why i cannot
fight my heart anymore.
i reach out, i grow,
i am present, all,
but i cannot touch
this evasive you
who cannot undress
herself but needs to ask
forever:
who are you?
Hi man, how do you do?
are you running or leaving,
where are you
why are you here?
do you 'really' love me
and what does it mean
to you
or to me?
well i am tipsy
so i find it even sweet
as you are so far away.
give me a call
and ask again.
then, what will i say?
Hi,you, how are you?
I am well.
thank you,
and good night.
why, i ask,
do i love you?
why you?
and it is always now
getting slowly tipsy
i wonder why i cannot
fight my heart anymore.
i reach out, i grow,
i am present, all,
but i cannot touch
this evasive you
who cannot undress
herself but needs to ask
forever:
who are you?
Hi man, how do you do?
are you running or leaving,
where are you
why are you here?
do you 'really' love me
and what does it mean
to you
or to me?
well i am tipsy
so i find it even sweet
as you are so far away.
give me a call
and ask again.
then, what will i say?
Hi,you, how are you?
I am well.
thank you,
and good night.
why, i ask,
do i love you?
why you?
Sunday, February 22, 2015
These Days - Nico
i stole this...and i find it quite beautiful and ...frightening,
and i know why, for me.
and i know why, for me.
I've been out walking
I don't do too much talking
These days, these days
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
And all the times I had the chance to.
I don't do too much talking
These days, these days
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
And all the times I had the chance to.
I've stopped my rambling
I don't do too much gambling
These days, these days
These days I seem to think about
How all the changes came about my ways
And I wonder if I'd see another highway
I don't do too much gambling
These days, these days
These days I seem to think about
How all the changes came about my ways
And I wonder if I'd see another highway
I had a lover
I don't think I'll risk another
These days, these days
And if I seem to be afraid
To live the life that I have made in song
It's just that I've been losing so long
I don't think I'll risk another
These days, these days
And if I seem to be afraid
To live the life that I have made in song
It's just that I've been losing so long
I've stopped my dreaming
I won't do too much scheming
These days, these days
These days I sit on corner stones
And count the time in quarter tones to ten
Please don't confront me with my failures
I had not forgotten them
I won't do too much scheming
These days, these days
These days I sit on corner stones
And count the time in quarter tones to ten
Please don't confront me with my failures
I had not forgotten them
Patti Smith - Pastime Paradise
of course, not bad at all, no. by all means, live now, try to find joy in what you have and not in "ideas" you may miss. but if you know a person and not an idea, why not try to find the best what can be done and experienced together? it is impossible not to 'miss'....
why hide and play at keeping away? why run and run, why no rest?
why hide and play at keeping away? why run and run, why no rest?
Siddharta, I am a boat on the other shore
Siddhartha said:
"I am a boat to the other shore. One who reaches the other shore does not walk around with the boat on his head"...
But this was Siddharta... i would tie it to a bush or to roots on the shore.
The other side is not where i want to be, maybe.
Just exploring, travelling.
No way to be closed to me, please.
"I am a boat to the other shore. One who reaches the other shore does not walk around with the boat on his head"...
But this was Siddharta... i would tie it to a bush or to roots on the shore.
The other side is not where i want to be, maybe.
Just exploring, travelling.
No way to be closed to me, please.
Leonard Cohen - 07 - Joan Of Arc (Berlin 1974)
and i always, always loved this...can hear it all my life
Pat Metheny & Brad Mehldau - Make Peace
When two people want different things, explanations will only widen the gap.
peace is not simple, it is complex.
peace is not simple, it is complex.
could be me
and this could be me...
A Ute boy. ca. 1900. Photo by C.R. Savage. Source - Yale Collection of Western Americana, Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library
on....purification (quotes)
quotes from another blog, see link
http://zenyogagurdjieff.blogspot.de/
"The aim of inner work is not freedom from suffering. The aim is purification through it. These are two different things."
from another post there:
http://zenyogagurdjieff.blogspot.de/
"The aim of inner work is not freedom from suffering. The aim is purification through it. These are two different things."
from another post there:
"Thought has no real flavor or substance next to it; it is like a picture of food, as opposed to the eating of it.
Gurdjieff explained in some detail that there are three being foods: the regular food we eat and digest with our stomach, air, and impressions. In a certain sense, all of these foods qualify as impressions; so there is a hierarchy of being-food which is presided over by impressions, with air and what we digest acting as subordinate entities.
Yet it is also possible to formulate the entirety; that is, the food of life as it flows into us, which is called impressions, is a whole thing consisting of all its parts, each one of which has deeply sacred aspects. The more that we participate in the action of our three centers, as opposed to the action of individual ones — each one of which is, on its own, quite muscular — the more we take in this whole food of life itself, which is closely and powerfully related to the divine inflow, and fed by the impressions of the food of one's whole life.
The process of feeding here is reciprocal: life and Being feed on the divine inflow, and the divine inflow feeds life and Being. Although we experience these things separately — and generally don't experience the divine inflow much at all, if ever — they are actually part of one great cycle of inward and outward breath of the divine into the material, and then back out of it. So life itself is an active manifestation of inhalation and exhalation of the divine into the material. "
Gurdjieff explained in some detail that there are three being foods: the regular food we eat and digest with our stomach, air, and impressions. In a certain sense, all of these foods qualify as impressions; so there is a hierarchy of being-food which is presided over by impressions, with air and what we digest acting as subordinate entities.
Yet it is also possible to formulate the entirety; that is, the food of life as it flows into us, which is called impressions, is a whole thing consisting of all its parts, each one of which has deeply sacred aspects. The more that we participate in the action of our three centers, as opposed to the action of individual ones — each one of which is, on its own, quite muscular — the more we take in this whole food of life itself, which is closely and powerfully related to the divine inflow, and fed by the impressions of the food of one's whole life.
The process of feeding here is reciprocal: life and Being feed on the divine inflow, and the divine inflow feeds life and Being. Although we experience these things separately — and generally don't experience the divine inflow much at all, if ever — they are actually part of one great cycle of inward and outward breath of the divine into the material, and then back out of it. So life itself is an active manifestation of inhalation and exhalation of the divine into the material. "
...something to keep in mind and digest...
and maybe not the world...
Lee Soo Dong.
ואולי, לא היו הדברים מעולם...
und vielleicht nicht die Welt..
and maybe not the world...
source:Sivan Parnass, facebook page
now sitting here
now sitting here
waiting for my tub
to fill with hot water
i watch the snow falling
and dropping from trees
across from my window.
and yesterday's turmoil
slides to the ground
giving way to be calm
and enjoy my morning
together with my cat
who watches my every move
as if to tell me:
don't leave, stay.
but i wish, i wish,
i would hear this
now and then, enough,
from another one
who is not a cat, for sure,
now i looked behind my house
and all the icicles
melted away.
now, now,
i will take my bath.
waiting for my tub
to fill with hot water
i watch the snow falling
and dropping from trees
across from my window.
and yesterday's turmoil
slides to the ground
giving way to be calm
and enjoy my morning
together with my cat
who watches my every move
as if to tell me:
don't leave, stay.
but i wish, i wish,
i would hear this
now and then, enough,
from another one
who is not a cat, for sure,
now i looked behind my house
and all the icicles
melted away.
now, now,
i will take my bath.
As to me, Walt Whitman
“As to me, I know of nothing but miracles.”
― Walt Whitman
o, i have a friend, and he inspires me from very far away, Israel...
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Don't go far off, Pablo Neruda
Pablo Neruda:
Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —
because — I don’t know how to say it:
a day is long and I will be waiting for you,
as in an empty station when the trains are parked off somewhere else,
asleep.
Don’t leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home
will drift into me, choking my lost heart.
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home
will drift into me, choking my lost heart.
Now there is only one demand, Ingmar Bergmann
INGMAR BERGMAN, FROM A LETTER TO LIV ULLMANN
Now there is only one demand, and that is to be alive; there to give life, there to receive life, and there to let it hurt, and there to let it feel good. To dare, my love.
these tomatoes
nobody will 'like' this...
Bertold Brecht:'first comes a full stomach, then come ethics'
these tomatoes, peaches,
cucumbers coming from
cultures under plastic
cloned and poor
these tomatoes are red enough
but not the right red
they are too rounded
and as artificial as women
painted for a bar
and just as tasteless
there is no satisfaction
in eating nor in fucking
just some vague juice
soiling the table, the clothes
but are all women,
at a certain age,
in eternal self development
busy around their egos
building fences
did they live under plastic
do they suffocate
and who and what
could put them at ease
or must i shoot them
to end this misery.
...sorry...
...sorry...
bestiarium of disgrace
a bestiarium of disgrace
as we walk along beaches
and follow stonepaths
and springs in the mountains,
our minds clear up
with the changes of light
and powers of earth
and then for the night
we tire of climbing
and talking, we
breathe and may sleep
in the rhythms of stars
for a time in arms
of another one.
if you cannot take,
if you cannot take
solace you cannot give
dogs and cats
take and give.
what a stupid thing
to say: there is
no solace.
i heard this today.
it killed my flow
more than all
else said, done,
undone. i was left
in outer space, no
air, a trapdoor
straight down
in free flight.
she laughed like
a goat, a sound
coming from stone
fields and deserts
and cold
how we, humans,
even if in love,
even as friends,
can be our worst
enemies, this,
this is the bestiarium
of our disgrace.
instead to come
together, close,
against cold winds
and for better fate
we don't even fight
for the safer place
but for who is right
and who is wrong.
i am bored.
this is not a poem
this is not a poem
but a signal
of the whale
in the deep
sea of me
he who ate my soul
needs to come up
and spit it out,
he needs to blow
and breathe
and i don't know
which part of me
he will take
for his dive
into this ocean
maybe i should make
a sacrifice
to let him go
in peace
and not so heavy
and i can stay afloat
until i reach this shore
where the apples
fall from branches
in my garden
i still have a lot of work
to do in my garden.
is it to sit on a bench
is it to sit on a bench
to watch clouds and dogs
and people pass
is it, i ask, less dangerous
maybe or more pleasure
than to get up
and mingle with the noise
of life on the street,
the shout of a mother
and the hooting of cars
the wailing of children,
the sighs of the crippled
and the kisses of couples
in traffic jams
is it, i ask, maybe
a bit sad to refuse
and sit on this bench
until it is time
for another coffee
or a glass of wine,
an orange juice
a sandwich
or time to go
home whereever it is
in the company of gulls
and cats and shadows
is it safe to close my eyes
and dream
or not dream
is it safe to be alive?
dys-function
dys-function is
a way to open eyes
and new paths
to follow
dys- , i like it.
to function is boring.
de-struction can be
frighteningly beautiful
with open skies
and new lines,
dis-torted views,
weeds growing wild
and birds singing,
all these voices
filling the void,
crossing vast deserts
and a new hope,
though i am drunk.
i am drunk on death
and i am drunk on life.
i am drunk on love,
on wine,
and i am stuffed
with my self.
i need to erase
all these gigabytes
of false memories.
they are in the way
of a life
which should not
repeat itself.
crash the hard disk
destabilize the software,
put a virus there
which nobody can destroy.
life is beyond control.
belligerence, sad but true:diary of desire
another day
tainted by belligerence.
i like the word,
to wage war
with a lust
she said, cats
get aggressive
when they want
to have sex
she said, she is not
ready to be with
somebody.
she will never be ready,
but i know,
life just happens.
she digs and digs
in me, she comes
with opinions on a tablet.
you can take them
or leave them,
they must not be mine
i felt the spring
it started yesterday
the birds are busy
and there is a scent
of flowers in this air
i don't wish to
explain with many words
but feel arms around me
not signs on the wall
i don't want to dwell
on the past
but to go on
with a hand in mine.
but i feel like
a beetle
in a Kafka story,
an experiment.
i must leave.
i knew.
I am but me,
there is nobody else.
if i am wrong,
i must feel it.
i don't.
Friday, February 20, 2015
light and sea
o how i wish
how i want the sea
to wash all memories
to take all sadness
how i wish the ocean
to drown all pain
and leave us clean
and naked ashore
wrinkled as newborns
in a dream of innocence
under this light
and in this
in this:
we are now
how i wish, how i want
the tides to take
the fungal growth,
the stench of decay,
the gowns, the masks,
the veils and fears
how i wish, how i want
this kiss, this embrace
to last forever
in a sleep
with open eyes
in a dream
with stars
and light, light
which flows
above the waves,
the unpredictable
movements of ground,
of water, of heart
and how near
i feel, i feel,
how near,how much
i want to rest
Thursday, February 19, 2015
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