wheresoever

a hard meditation: on mercy

still trying to rise to be awake and flow.

a mix of too much sun, diarrhoea and migraine does its own

to consciousness. 

more than forty years ago, near Seo de Urgel, the heat reflecting from the road

which was near melting, a car passed at high speed right in front of my feet,

and there it was, a terrible truth: a beautiful small green lizard, dead and flat.

the sky was blue and merciless.

it shows the sky is the sky and death is death, words are nothing in the face of true perception.

theories, meditation, philosophy , good wishes and deep feelings are nothing in the moment of confrontation. 

the woman i have loved is all i saw in her-but not for me.

and she is also all what she is and how she meets me.

through  the then naked eyes of my childhood and adolescence i sensed this life as cruel,

anticipated suffering and could not imagine real consolation, solace nor communion.

my only goal was independence as far as possible in mind and existence.

i had changed in this, reaching inner life and then had fortunately found few partners to share in honesty and intimacy.

with my eyes possibly clouded by pain i see cruelly clear again.

and feel sick by my own re-occuring desire and longing.

Alice made me feel sick about 'sex', i don't want it anymore, not here.

It was part of me, it was a soft warm place in me, it comes out with bile by now.

there is neither enough space nor nearness and there have been too many words allover.

It was to 'accept' for now, now i feel now will be forever.

i shuddered too often, i know i am old and will get ill more often without arms holding me,

i feel cold, and when i see my human brothers and sisters and me, i see greed, indifference,

sadness of ego, vanity and disturbed children. i see the intestines coming out, the eyes blurred, 

the heart pumping blood, the ugliness of being me in my skin. i have let myself be led there,

and now i am there.

i am like the lizard, one second running with joy, the other dead.

i feel no love, not for me, not for others, not now.

it means  i don't know what it is anymore.

i can only feel joy and sometimes i can laugh without bitterness.

by now i cannot imagine that humans can live together nor that they should and 

the time when i felt to eat and drink with pleasure and share is approaching the same as to share a bed and physical intimacy is coming to an end.

i have nothing to say or preach, i have nothing to give.

i am not more than an unwanted child as we all are one time or another.

this means i don't know right now why i must be alive.

i learned to pass through frustration and hard times, so i can just be.

and hope i find inside what i need.

it is not here.

grace and mercy are most times more or less wishful inventions,

beauty and love misleading us to believe in eternity whereas they only show the freak moments of impermanence in the culmination of one kind of transformation in nature,

art is confusing us, religion burdens us with expectation to be 'another' kind

of being, 'super-human'.

nobody has to share this nakedness and this raw perspective.

even i don't know if i see what i see.

i am honest, so this is not about truth.

and it will not appeal to anybody who has found 'the truth'.

but at times one has to let all thoughts , feelings and perceptions flow

and accept their presence. 

weird as it sounds: i like to embrace Alice and be still-

and listen when she is still.

cannot write poems

i cannot write poems anymore, not now.

i see life as it is without any filter.

now i see no inner light to guide me

through the cruel nakedness of being.

i need love more than ever but it is a word.

to shut up

trying.
guess i need a hat today,
best a magician's.
day started with noise on the roof.
then quietly.
good.
i wonder if meditation helps
for headache. i think it will.
trying.

sleepless interim, diary note

went to bed not so late. slept two hours.

in the evening after being where i am well and most of the time relaxed

in a temporary acceptance of present circumstances and with enough joy

i started to fall asleep in a restaurant. i see it was not nice for the person present, but it happened just like that out of the blue. the interpretation that i want to be alone is near unbearable as all interpretations are out of my context and taken into another. we had a bad moment. 

i woke shivering and hot with a sunburn including my bald head , a thing which i cannot remember having had for yeears.

on top of it diarrhoea. i feel ill and with her frightened for being ill. she could not even once deal with me or care for me or at least leave me space when i was unwell. all needs a psychological interpretation and hundred questions. i have no idea how i will be tomorrow and what i will hear on it.

after all it is a difficult inter-being anyway and i will have maybe never have room for my need for softness, care , love and relaxed and at times playful intimacy. there is no idea nor role nor expectectation in me. i only know when i don't get peace today to get well again i must leave even if i hardly can.

hardly does not mean impossible.

i don't really want to, maybe she surprises me.

maybe i suprise me and fall asleep again.

quote, article, see link

“I’m sitting in a field of sadness,” I said to him. I was a tiny bit pleased by my poetic expression. I thought we might talk about it, rooting out the cause, and apply a kind of treatment.
“When you’re sad, be sad,” he said. And that was all he said. I confess I found it abrupt, considering my experience with other kinds of counselors. He didn’t criticize me, he didn’t correct me, he just didn’t dwell.

http://www.lionsroar.com/karen-mazen-millers-the-laundry-line-be-sad/?goal=0_1988ee44b2-d53265c409-22284457&mc_cid=d53265c409&mc_eid=83cbb78504

Eissturmvogel

    i take him into sleep, one time in my 

    life i watched them for hours each 

    day, for weeks..

Be still,LaoTzu

Be still. Stilness reveals the secrets of eternity.

Lao Tzu

now...

is this true? and ..do i want to busy myself with eternity?

Laziness for now is another way of intelligence, to let be and try not only to accept but to enjoy.

to be still means to be attentive, to listen.

to see.

this is good enough. eternity is an idea.

or..is the translation from chinese incorrect?

don't know.

post migraine, all in other light

migraine is so blindingly lucid,
and all the terror of life comes
like a flood, a deluge of all pain, hurt
and unhappiness.
after, post migraine, all is softer,
a bit of cold sea and fresh wind
and being just alive,
life and perspective may not look different in thought
but experience finds clear space again.
now.

existing , diary note, transcending unhappiness in a hot day

since starting my journey i had no migraine. i had deeply relaxed.
where i am now i will not disclose.
yesterday i got too hot on my motorbike, under the helmet,
and the wind from driving gave me the rest.
i slept well after a good shared meal, woke with splitting headache.
i tried a tablet, i meditated and more so i used trance, breathing, letting everything be, my pain, the call of seagulls, traffic noise, feelings, emotions and confusion.
so i am a bit better now.

this is one side of my existence.
the other is that i spend my time with a very beautiful woman, beautiful in all ways,
in an impossible situation.
i meet, and out of the first moment i just want to kiss her everywhere,
her eyes, lips, arms, knees and make love with her.
i had to accept for now that this is impossible, but now is now and yesterday and tomorrow.
i promised not to be agressive nor too angry nor let out too much frustration.
i didn't expect anything but i knew how i will feel.
i think it is not very wise to be here.
i will do my best in kindness and in transforming my days to be open for other joy and for her.
this will not take away an underlying current of emotional torture,
and i know quite well that i cannot bear it for long.
once she said she may be a symbol for me. this is plainly stupid.
in the end all matters are simple in the mid of confusion, complexity and consciousness.
i am a man, she is a woman, i want her embrace, love and softness.
and everybody knows what will happen with a spring under tension, too much too long it breaks, too much once released it will snap.
i can lessen the tension but not remove it, only when i leave.
i don't want to because.

it feels very wrong to me to meditate and leave all be in place of making love
and sharing life , love and nights.
just there is not even 1 mm for another space in between us ,only mine inside.

the moment she would disturb this one i must go.
i feel being...stupid.
and know that i am intelligent, even i know i can acess singular , fluid , true and compassionate intelligence - only it doesn't help.
so i went for coffee.

these are diary notes which i need to sort my self.
Alice can read them, it will not change anything.
i take some water now to dilute my cloud.
all clouds are impermanent, they pass, they bring hail and rain and snow, they vanish,
and new clouds are already forming even if we see only cruelly blue sky.
sincerely, in all this i want to rain, to cry, to be a river, free, a bird sailing towards shadow, it is at times too hard to see me.








Von meinem iPad gesendet

playing,B.Shaw

We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing. 
B.Shaw

i love this quote...

inhumanity,B.Shaw

The worst sin toward our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them: that's the essence of inhumanity. George Bernard Shaw

graca, largo

when will the waves,alice

when will the waves

lean against each other

rolling and flowing

in the deep deep sea

when can i lean on you

and breathe with you,

when will we give up

ourself to sleep

Alice, i am tired

to be alone,

when will you

kiss me , hold me

i kissed your soul

now come

nearer

and keep me

please guard me

don't be afraid

not of memory

nor of me

will you smile?

Alice,i need you.

the desert

is so cold at night

in your dreams

do you walk between

snakes and hurt

with a flower

and will you

come out,

i am only wind

touching your face

the rabbit

points to the clock,

only the cat knows

time but doesn't say

meanwhile

i have a coffee

and watch birds

picking crumbs

on trauma, interesting article

https://www.brainpickings.org/2016/06/20/the-body-keeps-the-score-van-der-kolk/?mc_cid=0506706136&mc_eid=d4633eff0a

museu nacional do azulejo

costa da caparica, bela vista

what is tomorrow?

what is tomorrow?

i went to listen

to a woman sing

like 

a siren but near

i went to a bar

dark hunters

with conspiratorial

smiles and sad ladies

only few danced

but the music

this was good,

an earthy rhythm

i came up

above the roofs,

i want raindrops

to fall on your hair

want to rest

my soul in you

and snow to fall

on my thoughts

i want to bury 

my face in your scent,

sleep with the waves

of your breathing

your sadness

is now mine

and all is sworn in

against us

i hope for autumn

to turn all gold

and clear and cool

as tender kisses

now is summer

never our time

and spring

was pain

i sit under trees,

always in between,

i love, i wish,

i think i am alive

Bairro Alto

poem for her dog

poem for her dog

she, a tiny ball,

curly and black,

so weak now

and all she is

is soul,

alive through love

until love

will take her home

sometimes her eyes

ask what happens

like a child

and though she 

knows like a child,

the answer

is in presence

and touch

and we know

when we see,

she knows

all.

she is pure

and will be,

her colors

are joy and life

and her life

will be 

running ,

jumping high grass

across the sunset

unleashed

released

into happiness 

one day

we will miss her

but she will stay

in mind and heart

off and on

wagging her tail

with a soft bark

and somehow a smile

poems

one day

i met my heart

and yours

another day

i wanted

to be a poem

and be voice

and silence

i longed 

to be a pause

between breaths

and waves

rising and sinking,

a space 

growing out

into skies infinite

i wanted 

to be a poem

living

though i am

just me, a man

alone

who wants to sing

in your arms

until

you may listen

without hearing

beyond words

walking a bit too much...