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Thursday, November 30, 2017

Seung Sahn Soen-sa, brainpickings.org, Zen and Children, quote


Seung Sahn Soen-sa

(following the death of a beloved cat, Katz, a conversation with a 7 year old girl)


“What happened to Katzie? Where did he go?”
Soen-sa said, “Where do you come from?”
“From my mother’s belly.”
“Where does your mother come from?” Gita was silent.
Soen-sa said, “Everything in the world comes from the same one thing. It is like in a cookie factory. Many different kinds of cookies are made — lions, tigers, elephants, houses, people. They all have different shapes and different names, but they are all made from the same dough and they all taste the same. So all the different things that you see — a cat, a person, a tree, the sun, this floor — all these things are really the same.”
“What are they?”
“People give them many different names. But in themselves, they have no names. When you are thinking, all things have different names and different shapes. But when you are not thinking, all things are the same. There are no words for them. People make the words. A cat doesn’t say, ‘I am a cat.’ People say, ‘This is a cat.’ The sun doesn’t say, ‘My name is sun.’ People say, ‘This is the sun.’
So when someone asks you, ‘What is this?’, how should you answer?”
“I shouldn’t use words.”
Soen-sa said, “Very good! You shouldn’t use words. So if someone asks you, ‘What is Buddha?’, what would be a good answer?”
Gita was silent.
Soen-sa said, “Now you ask me.”
“What is Buddha?”
Soen-sa hit the floor.
Gita laughed.
Soen-sa said, “Now I ask you: What is Buddha?”
Gita hit the floor.
“What is God?”
Gita hit the floor.
“What is your mother?”
Gita hit the floor.
“What are you?”
Gita hit the floor.
“Very good! This is what all things in the world are made of. You and Buddha and God and your mother and the whole world are the same.”
Gita smiled.
Soen-sa said, “Do you have any more questions?”
“You still haven’t told me where Katz went.”
Soen-sa leaned over, looked into her eyes, and said, “You already understand.”
Gita said, “Oh!” and hit the floor very hard. Then she laughed.
As she was opening the door, she turned to Soen-sa and said, “But I’m not going to answer that way when I’m in school. I’m going to give regular answers!” Soen-sa laughed."


Luka Bloom & Sinead O'Connor, Love is a place i dream of





Love is a place I dream of
A face that never leaves my mind
Sorrow is over my shoulder
But it's over
Someday I will cross the world for you
No matter how far
Just to be there
Someday I will hold you in my arms
So special you are
Wait and see my love, set you free
Love is a place I dream of
I hear you cry so far away
There is a bridge I'm building
Take me to the one I love someday
Someday I will cross the world for you
No matter how far
Just to be there
Someday I will hold you in my arms
So special you are
Wait and see my love, set you free
I'm coming home child

Joni Mitchell , Electricity

Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory , Tunnel of Terror Scene (6/10) | Mo...

Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory , Augustus and the Chocolate River ...

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Anouar Brahem Quartet,Madrid, Conde Duque 16/11/2017

Bom Dia Rio , Anouar Brahem (Brahem/Holland/Dejohnette/Bates)

The cry of the Urutau bird, Wordless Russian animation

Schumann,Vogel als Prophet, Waldszenen, Maria Joao Pires

The song (They love to sing) , Barclay James Harvest (live)

Stjepan Hauser, Prayer , Bloch

HAUSER, Liebesleid ,F. Kreisler

Stjepan Hauser , Nacht und Träume , Schubert

Barclay James Harvest, Child of the Universe

Luka Bloom , Throw Your Arms Around Me

Steeleye Span , All Around My Hat (Crackerjack, 1976)

Lisa Hannigan, Ora (Official Video)





I was adrift and
Caught in the ropes
Under a pinhole sky
Blowing off course

Bleach me to silver
Under the moon
Pulling the water round
And me to you

I'm going home
I'm going home
Won't you come with me?
Won't you come with me?

You'll be the boat and
I'll be the sea
Won't you come with me?
Won't you come with me?



HAUSER , Song from a Secret Garden

Monty Python , Falling From Building

Peter Murphy , Socrates the Python




Today ... Your problems are not Of blind belief That is or means Belief ain't enough, belief ain't enough The oracle of your age Point towards the word Psychological You may freeze You may fear You may wince And not hear You can sick at the heart When I say "God is one" Does God the word Make you reel And I mean, real But it isn't God the father son or holy one, But the key to your age Get it together, and listen With all the books On the shelf All the wisdom With all the books On the shelf All the wisdom Socrates Pythagorus Yin and bloody Yang Hatha Yoga, Omm Bennett, Gurdjieff, Jesus Old Testament and New Libraries full of keys Libraries full of keys Where's your lock? Socrates Pythagorus Yin and bloody Yang Hatha Yoga, Omm Bennett, Gurdjieff, Jesus Old Testament and New Libraries full of keys Libraries full of keys Bennett, Gurdjieff, Jesus Bennett, Gurdjieff, Jesus Bennett, Gurdjieff, Jesus ...

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Dead Can Dance , The Carnival Is Over (Official Video)





Outside
The storm clouds gathering,
Moved silently along the dusty boulevard.
Where flowers turning crane their fragile necks
So they can in turn
Reach up and kiss the sky.
They are driven by a strange desire
Unseen by the human eye
Someone is calling.
I remember when you held my hand
In the park we would play when the circus came to town.
Look! Over here.
Outside
The circus gathering
Moved silently along the rainswept boulevard.
The procession moved on the shouting is over
The fabulous freaks are leaving town.
They are driven by a strange desire
Unseen by the human eye.
The carnival is over
We sat and watched
As the moon rose again
For the very first time.

Paul Robeson, Swing Low, Sweet Chariot

last days with the bees

bees in my head
is better than honey.
they buzz, but they go.

it is not days
sucking me in,
just people like me
and like you

some of you
flow in with light
and a smile,
but all want some
thing or other

you flood me with
papers and wishes.
God they say had
sent the big deluge:
maybe because of
too many prayers.

i go home,
bees buzzing and
dogs growling,
cats hissing,
here i am listening
for a wind to clear
this mess of sounds.

i will sail away,
i shall go now
when the big silence
stretches arms around
my soul to take
me home to sleep










Monty Python, Undertaker's Film

Peter Murphy , Sails Wave Goodbye

Luka Bloom, I'm on Your Side





Out on the street you don't feel safe
In a crowded plaza you're alone
In this life you love and you hate sometimes
A prisoner of glass and stone
You reach for smells and sounds
That hold you and earth you down
Your heart's too fast and breaking inside
Your head spins you vicious little lies
Yeah, but I'm on your side
Yeah, I'm on your side
Black dogs and blues move on
You'll head away for oceans once more
Where nothing is lost or is won
We lighten our load for the shore
The hope I sing rings true
Because in this world there is you
Like the ebb and the flow of the tide
You'll take the blues in your stride
Yeah, and I'm on your side
Yeah, I'm on your side
I see a warrior who's walking in light
I see poetry and songs sung true
I see courage in the darkest of your nights
I see armour of love draped around you
I saw you almost not go
I saw you breathe deeply and know
Black dogs whisper lies
You, you are ancient and wise
Yeah, and I'm on your side
Yeah, I'm on your side


a short abdication from roles

beauty is for sale.
passion is out.
shopping is in.

we are for sale.
friends, patients, doctors
turn into monsters
following greed,
greed politely overseen,
and it turns all green
into sour soup, grey and foul.

courage is out
because we will die anyway,
poor powerless egos
insulted by death and slavery.
My deepest condolences,
you are already dead.

hope is out.
occupation is in.
news make no sense.

souls are stuck to
living room walls.
love is a four letter word
hidden under a mattress,
taken out for pornographic
sessions on Valentine's
or Xmas.

and you clap so stupidly
when somebody sings,
sings from deepest heart:
freedom is nothing left to lose.
are you free?
am i?

i am old.
i didn't expect gratefulness.
but i didn't expect hate.
my impudence to work
less, to slowly leave work,
my function, my role.
how can i dare?
but i do.
i always did as i saw right.
and will.

art has done tricks
so all can be called art
when it sells well
or because of when it doesn't.
art looks like a severe handicap.
humility is weakness.

yes. somehow, somehow
we all turn into ghosts.
i won't let this happen
inside. what others do
with me i do not care,
this is outside.
we turn into ghosts
sold and bought and eaten
by ghosts. greedy ghosts.

greed is so so old, so very
old, and our world hides
it in adverts, on screen, online,
using greed the managers who
manage all bring ugliness
and holes we didn't know before.
desire corrupted into the need
to fill these holes, to buy, to
travel to places where we never
knew we wanted to go.

desire is not bad,
without it we are numb,
we have no wings.
but when desire is on the
market to be replaced:
where is a meaning, a sense?

so, when we think, what do we do?
when we speak and know this
down to the roots,
what can words do
when we do not 'do'?

after all, i am,
now, later i will
not be here to tell.
all this around is a war,
and it has always been there.
we fight when we need to
and we find strength only inside,
find it in love and with friends.

stay calm, we cannot kill the bad.
they are too many.
and stupidity will win,
may destroy all.
maybe.
maybe we can just trick idiots
into being wise.











Monday, November 27, 2017

Björk, Arisen my Senses

Everything must go, George Monbiot

Everything must go, George Monbiot


seen today.
excellent article.

quote:
"When you hear that something makes economic sense, this means it makes the opposite of common sense. "

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds , Distant Sky

Levon Minassian , Bab'aziz

Lisa Hannigan , I Don't Know

on science and words: love, wisdom, kindness, patience and humility

logos means word, doesn't it?
so each such science as sociology, psychology, theology means words on...

are the above examples really science, is it science to speak of something
and to name the world using concepts, rules, norms, values, images and even morals
conditioned out of our actual existing social conditions of living,
thinking and standards for science?

say, these are at best descriptive sciences and when accompanied by keen intellect
and constant questioning of the basic conditions and rules of these very sciences
combined with profound historical and anthropological knowledge they may not only
deconstruct consciousness and experience and leave us with skeletons
but allow us to dream of how we can go better about our and other's life.
there we have philosophy (etymology: love for wisdom).
i won't mention theology,
it is just words on God ..but God is immeasurable.
my opinion. i am allowed opinions.

mostly the -ologies leave us robbed of experience and innocence, adding to the crippling
pressures and negative pull of our personal, private and social life and roles.
they do not give "the truth" but truths, parts of a puzzle,the house has burned down,
home is not home anymore and we are not naked and pure but all we do and say and feel
will be called relative and shit.we must be ashamed of ourselves and feel dirty.
a modern way of being thrown out of paradise: paradise is not only utopia, it is seen as  a
state of stupidity.
i question this result, very  much so.
i don't know if it is correct to measure the validity of sciences by results though.
but are they necessary in this form?

all i read and hear is that everything is getting worse.
even this i do not believe at all.
it is just not getting better, it is turning different.

and we have enough 'badness' and global warming and catastrophes to strengthen this
opinion that the world is going to hell and that we are doomed and so just can do nothing
and must give up on humanity, on us, on each one of us.easy. but only half-education.

none of these sciences will lead anywhere else if not going together
with philosophy and an attitude which absolutely seriously questions attitude and  the aims
of research and all the new naming making the process of descriptive and comparative science
boring, meaningless and lead to tirades and torrents of self-importance and doing stuff for its own sake.

when i read papers, books, i see that a new generation has long ago started
around the time of 1960 , intellectualists finding a culture in masturbating
negativism. i remember many found this 'cool'.
i don't.

let me give an example. sexuality and eros, two different experiences in human life
altogether. eros is out. you can buy it, no, you cannot! it is not new underwear, it is not
a golden ring, it is a nuclear and enriching part of our existence and experience in this life right here.  It asks for friendship, freedom, love, affection and it gives wings to the soul.

love, analyzed so extensively, a skeleton only remains , a shadow in effect for the human soul
not better than the commercialized adverts for empty rituals, the sale of love itself.
love, immeasurable as a topic just thrown to the wolf of the intellectual
negativism: shit, romanticism, domination games between man and woman.

partnership of whichever sexes analyzed is not the experience of partnership,
work, warmth, giving,taking, staying in troubled times.

when nothing means anything for us anymore, we have lost life, we should better die.
what are we left with?
a bunch of New Age esotericists, fascists, terrorists, escapists, gurus...give me names, i call them.
the gap between science and values in intention creates religions, more abuse.

Marxism is a good basic analytic research tool but mainly a religion with a promise for God's kingdom to come on earth,
and the worst is that the more intelligent intellectuals are filled with despair of their findings leading them to judge themselves and all of us in a moralistic way. is this science and for what is it good?
are they the salt of the earth?
did i look for morals?

everybody or so it appears wants something 'special', the neighbour wants roses for Valentine, the intellectaúals after a period of suspectedly and rebelliously post-puberty free sex propagate non-penetrative sex or Tantra for pre-death entertainment or just a very 'special' relationship without obligations, burdens, heartache, maybe platonic, they define love from above not seeing any of it. after all, they wish to rule the world, control means to be free, and mainly they try to stay out of suffering and hurt.
they will not manage. and this 'special' is just a result of either emptiness or bad experience.
probably they all have gastritis and indigestion.

i started long ago to hate reading books..many books. open..start..feel disgust..put them away.

love, wisdom, kindness, patience and humility are the only values i see.
and all i wished to say is  that descriptive and merely analytic sciences suffocate often even themselves and make no sense without inclusion of true values, true as i see. as i feel. as i know.
i mean to analyze may not necessarily need to mean that we can apply what we find
to limit and lead our experience of each other and of life. we should die from mere thought.


they can put away with all morals, that's ok to me. morals are social rules and bonds
with taboos, totems. they crucify us to our work, relationships, roles. they are tools of domination instilling in us the ideas of guilt and punishment. ideas of master and slave and Christian traditions.
away with them.

but i keep a passion for values, for life, for love.

of course there are some books, authors, passionate intelligent  humans i can read.
but i don't trust in anyone writing. no. i wouldn't trust my own words.
tomorrow they may be different.

we need words. we need to think. this is ...as it is.

so. nothing against description, comparing: just to always ask what we are 'doing'.
In silence all flows. In words all is on the altar of the slaughterhouse.
and words do "do" ...they change experience. they turn ' being' into being so and so.













to quote for whosoever may need it (i don't, gladly not)

a man used all his life to pee standing, will when he sits down
feel an urge to do pooh too.
this is a kind of trained reflex.
and when he gets older, sitting he will not be able to empty his
urinary bladder well enough , this means on standing up he may let some drops on the floor or
on one of these so ugly and  generally unhygienic carpets many ladies like so much.


i advise my male readers not to give in to such requests from their partners.
i know some with marital disputes on this subject.
just let it go in one ear and out the other, and don't forget to say yes.
enough.

and now we sleep




today trotting the snowy
fields, sugar powdered greens,
the sky pink and metal blues,
slow snowflakes melting

on skin and fur, horse
and me, all beauty is
for feeling through and
through, in moving and

in touch, in seeing,
in opening, beauty
no concept but purest joy
given to us by grace

with this my day and
your voice from  far
i will sink and melt,
sleep in this silence

of deep listening,
in the wind of souls,
out of my mind,
under ice, in the soil.

winter takes us inside,
covers traces, past,
we learn to forget
dreaming awake.

tomorrow grows
under the frost,
holding its breath.
and now we sleep.

Sunday, November 26, 2017

The Corrs, Everybody Hurts

The Lonesome Boatman

Toto, Africa, Andy McKee,Tommy Emmanuel

Isn't She Lovely , Tommy Emmanuel, Wim den Herder

Tears for Jerusalem , Tommy Emmanuel

The dark side of "positive thinking"





not bad..and quite true..but again one man giving advice after another, rows and rows...

does it help?

Barclay James Harvest , Hymn 1978

Haba Na Haba,| Tommy Emmanuel

Cathy Maguire , Danny Boy





just..i love this song

Peter Murphy, Our Secret Garden (Holy Smoke) 1992





It seems like a day
A day that I call smooth
When you came into my heart I knew
The love was overflowing
And I say
La la la la la! 
The day was so long and the night was still
And you kept coming over
To my hill
I would weep for the day
Without you, all the way
You wanted to be free
And doubt would overflow
Just came running to me
Cause you knew I'd take you home 
Then you came into my heart
We knew for a start
Each word like a book
With your spirit flowing, over me
Don't bother to close your heart
Let's drink honey in the park
Swap hats and go for free
To our secret garden
Oh please come with me

Peter Murphy, Slow Down [Audio]

Tori Amos , Liquid Diamonds



Surrender then start your engines
You'll know quite soon what my mistake was
For those on horseback and dogsled
You turn on at the bend in the road
I hear she still grants forgiveness
Although I willingly forgot her
The offering is molasses
And you say
I guess I'm an underwater thing
So I guess I can't take it personally
I guess I'm an underwater thing
I'm liquid running
There's a sea secret in me
It's plain to see it is rising
But I must be flowing
Liquid diamonds
Liquid, liquid diamonds


Calling for my soul from the corners of the world
I know she's playing poker with the rest of the stragglers
Calling for my soul from the corners of the world
I know she's playing poker with the rest, the rest
And if your friends don't come back to you
And you know this is madness
A lilac mess in your prom dress
And you say
I guess I'm an underwater thing
So I guess I can't take it personally
I guess I'm an underwater thing
I'm liquid running
There's a sea secret in me
It's plain to see it is rising
But I must be flowing
Liquid diamonds
Liquid, liquid diamonds

I call, I go inside a shell
I see it's so and you're doing oh so well these days
You do it again and I say it's coming back again
Something like that
Saturday, such was it
Can he bring me those dreams
Keep it back, daddy's down
Reaching back into himself
Keep it just between us
It's liquid, liquid, liquid

Rag'N'Bone Man , As You Are (Live) - Stripped (Vevo UK LIFT)

Barenboim, Beethoven, op. 80

Peter Murphy , Mercy Rain





Would you walk with me tonight
Could you run where the lovers run
Would you stay with me tonight
Will you forgive me if I rush
When I tell you I am yours
As we run where the lovers run
Run with the sound
I won't let you down
Would you swim from the rivers edge
Could you jump where the lovers jump
Would you stay with me tonight
Let's be the runners in the mercy rain
Be my bridge when I fear to cross
As we run where the lovers run
Run with the sound
I won't let you down
Swim, swim

Saturday, November 25, 2017

Snow , Loreena McKennitt



White are the far-off plains,
And white the fading forests grow;
The wind dies out along the height
And denser still the snow,
A gathering weight on roof and tree
Falls down scarce audibly. 
The meadows and far-sheeted streams
Lie still without a sound;
Like some soft minister of dreams
The snowfall hoods me around;
In wood and water, earth and air,
A silence is everywhere. 
Save when at lonely spells
Some farmer's sleigh is urged on,
With rustling runner and sharp bells,
Swings by me and is gone;
Or from the empty waste I hear
A sound remote and clear; 
The barking of a dog,
To cattle, is sharply pealed,
Borne, echoing from some wayside stall
Or barnyard far afield;
Then all is silent and the snow
Falls settling soft and slow
The evening deepens and the grey
Folds closer Earth to sky
The world seems shrouded, so far away.
Its noises sleep, and I
As secret as yon buried stream
Plod dumbly on and dream. 
And dream
And dream
I dream
And I dream…

Chieftains, Rebel Jesus ,J. Browne

The Chieftains , May Morning Dew

The Chieftains , Ry Cooder, Dunmore Lassies

The Chieftains , O'Sullivan's March





in the comments to this in youtube the story is told in detail..

Italy's Riviera, Cinque Terre

England's Cornwall

Rag'n'Bone Man , Hard Came The Rain

Friday, November 24, 2017

Rag'n'Bone Man , Grace



Rag'n'Bone Man - Grace



Said I loved you without hesitation
So easy for you to break my foolish heart
Now I wonder if you ever speak my name
Will I always be defined by my mistakes?

In the eyes of a saint I'm a stranger
We're all trying to find a way
At the death of every darkness there's a morning
Though we all try
We all try
We're all one step from grace

I made myself believe
There was no fight left in me
But redemption doesn't fall down at your feet
In the half light
We raised a hand to my defeat
And I watched the world fall
And I rebuilt it piece by piece

In the eyes of a saint I'm a stranger
We're all trying to find a way
At the death of every darkness there's a morning
Though we all try
We all try
We're all one step from grace

I wonder why we give up on love
When it's always within reach
You and I, we suffered this enough
We all try
We all try
We're all one step from grace

In the eyes of a saint I'm a stranger
We're all trying to find a way
At the death of every darkness there's a morning
Though we all try
We all try
We're all one step from grace



Shukh , Silent Prayer

Berezovsky ,Communion Verse ,Who maketh His angels spirits

Monty Python, Royal Society for putting things on top of other things

Peter Murphy, Let Me Love You





Love me now
Until the end of time
See me over your heart
In the night
Never let me go until you see
All the scenery and faking
Fall away from me
Oh let me love you in the morning light
Oh let me give you cover until it's alright
Oh let me feel you come into my arms
The saints have come over
They stayed all night long
Save your heart till the end of time they say
Come over now, approach from every side
Give your heart till the end of time 
Oh let me love you in the morning light
Oh let see you over until it's alright
Oh I'll fall so blue, come into your arms
Oh let me see you over, until it's all

Peter Murphy , Cuts You Up



stolen~


I find you in the morning
After dreams of distant signs
You pour yourself over me
Like the sun through the blinds
You lift me up
And get me out
Keep me walking
But never shout
Hold the secret close
I hear you say
You know the way
It throws about
It takes you in
And spits you out
It spits you out
When you desire
To conquer it
To feel you're higher
To follow it
You must be clean
With mistakes
That you do mean
Move the heart
Switch the pace
Look for what seems out of place
On and on it goes
Calling like a distant wind
Through the zero hour we'll walk
We'll cut the thick and break the thin
No sound to break no moment clear
When all the doubts are crystal clear
Crashing hard into the secret wind
You know the way
It twists and turns
Changing color
Spinning yarns
You know the way
It leaves you dry
It cuts you up
And takes you high
You know the way
It's painted gold
Is it honey
Is it gold
You know the way
It throws about
It takes you in
And spits you out
Oh, cuts you up
Oh, cuts you up
Oh, cuts you up
Oh, la la la la la la la la
You know the way
It throws about
It takes you in
And spits you out
It spits you out
When you desire
To conquer it
To feel you're higher
To follow it
You must be clean
With mistakes
That you do mean
Move the heart
Switch the pace
Look for what
Seems out of place
Oh, cuts you up
Oh, cuts you up
It's o.k.
It goes this way
The line is thin
It twists away
Cuts you up
And spits you out
Keeps you walking
But never shout
Oh
Oh

Monday, November 20, 2017

Debussy, Reflets dans l'eau (James Boyk, solo piano)

Debussy, Doctor Gradus ad Parnassum, solo piano

Joni Mitchell , Woman Of Heart And Mind

Joni Mitchell , Taming The Tiger





Tiger, tiger burning bright
(Fight to the light, fight to the light)
In the forest of the night."


"

Björk, History of Touches (Vulnicura Live)

John Martyn, Couldn't Love You More

Monty Python's Flying Circus , Beethoven (sub castellano)

Ewan McTeagle, the Scottish Poet, Monty Python's Flying Circus

he is not a very nice cat

although there is no-thing to say, i keep on writing.
it is not a remedy nor a drug but happens without
me wishing for it.

It is in the following way a bit like playing golf  or sex -what i saw
in an Irish pub: it is not important to be good at it
but to enjoy it.

in one view writing is most certainly not communication
because i am alone when i write just the same
as i can play golf alone.

concerning sex, hum, it is far removed from sex-
intimacy is when communication turns into communion,
else loving has failed to reach or/and  to let reach
the wounds and heart.

The opening of soul and body is intricately
connected with fear of the death of ego,
with the letting go of  control.

the price for joy and happiness are pain and
vulnerability.

the price for life is death, and it is good.
i see a deep sense and i can feel the release.

as music is best in silence so is all communion
and so are 'good' poems.

going back into silence for a while.
my cat told me.
he is not a very nice cat.
he is as he is.







the spiders and the bees

patterns and cycles
patterns and cycles
can’t stop rain
can’t stop sun

ain’t no place to hide
but inside this pain
whatever we gain
is not what we won.

the battle goes on.
patterns and cycles,
pattern and cycles.
if it wouldn’t hurt

maybe we could laugh.
the mind ploughs fields,
the snow covers all
and we fail and fall, 

we fail and fall,
we stumble, we carry,
we carry on and on and on, 
all tries to pull us down

we fall, we fall apart,
this is the way, no
easy path to follow,
none to carry us across

we forget, we lose words,
remember silly wounds
which should have healed.
sleep once a good friend

sends us dreams, we wake
and are not awakened, 
winter has come and it
is so hard to find light

we have tried and tried
but the bluest sky
is cold and does not
colour the days

we shake it off, do tricks,
ain’t no place to hide
pattern and cycles,
patterns and cycles

maybe in spring, maybe
in autumn, maybe even
in summer we can have
a few days in the breath

and wind of God who
sent unicorns and dance
after floods and fires,
wars and pestilence

maybe this is God,
maybe we did it,
without humility
trying to rule

us and others and 
this earth which has
no other response
left but to fight back.

maybe it is God,
maybe the earth,
maybe us:
patterns and cycles

and the primeval tides
rising and ebbing
until the last one goes
back to the stars

under the sea, under
and up is the same,
the moving and turning
until we are all gone

and then maybe the
spiders and the bees
make love and the birds
sing and sing forever

come sweet sleep

in the space opening
inside and on ground
which moves and gives
way in and out and

up and down, deep
in the core i am afloat
i don’t know what you
will feel nor do you

nor is there a rock 
i can climb to point
to my heart and say:
see. because mostly

the top of mountains
is shrouded by clouds
and the fog ascending,
all transient and nebulous

but when i feel, i can
only feel what i feel.
we are like that, 
limits of perception,

fear of known and 
of un-known, small
derwishes trying to
sing and dance out

of gravity holding
us down, beautiful
islands with hells
raging in the jungle

so where do we go,
will we learn to fly
and is it not sad to
go to the gate alone

time will solve nothing
but all happens in its
own time. maybe it
grows to good, maybe

good is wrong. all is
now like this: maybe.
walking towards death
we see and give birth.

Friday, November 17, 2017

orphans

here the night, a party,
turkish marriage, hotel,
alone, an orphan too,
since the birth of I,

postpartal, an orphan
in love, divorced,
widowed, not needed,
at least still another

to care for, a love
i carry unexpectedly,
a grace life gave me.
i cannot be bored.

an orphan in the sea,
flowing, breathing, free.
loss gave sadness, now
the wind has calmed

i don’t need anything,
used to be alone amongst
the many, i am not waiting
for miracles nor for death

Godot does not live here,
we have met many
a time, i told him not
to come, he is near.

life is happening now
and death is release
into another space.
i smell the night

and the memory of
a rose. i will not
say all is relative
but all is related.

i will not say
nothing matters
but all matters.
i will listen to plants

trees, birds, a voice
touching me inside,
across a thousand miles,
my soul and yours.

i wonder about pain,
how do i feel the waves
and why is it joy
to let me be carried

up and down afloat,
it makes me sleepy,
all images turning
in my mind, turning

and turning like mantras.
i give me to the dance,
i give me, i’d give me
to you with a blessing.

now i pray with you
through fathomless silence
without purpose nor need.
we pray though you don’t know.








Wednesday, November 15, 2017

Roland Kirk , Trees

Roland Kirk , Serenade To a Cuckoo (Original Version!)

Ladysmith Black Mambazo , Nomathemba

Bogus Psychiatrists, Monty Python

Doolin' - Bodhran Solo (Josselin Fournel - sept. 2011)

Epic Tin Whistle Bros

The Chieftains

tonight

tonight

i will be where the
wind blows and where
the sky touches the sea,
where dreams flow green

rising with songs of moon
and tides, of rivers and hills,
tonight i will be there
where longing meets peace

where the rabbits dance with
fairies to fiddles and whistles,
where the hearts beat with
the bodhrán, and where

all souls are eyes, are sound.
i will meet you, we are
all there, in sleep, in sleep,
deep deep. silence.




Tuesday, November 14, 2017

Luka Bloom , This Is The Sea





THIS IS THE SEA
by MIKE SCOTT

These things you keep
You better throw them away
You gotta turn your back
On your soulless days
Once you were tethered
And now you are free
Once you were tethered
And now you are free
That was the river
This is the sea

If you're feelin' weary
You've been alone too long
Or maybe you've been sufferin' from
A few too many plans
That have gone wrong
You're tryin' to remember
How fine your life used to be
You're runnin' around
Banging your drums
Like it's nineteen seventy three
That was the river
This is the sea

You say you've got troubles
You say you've got pain
You say you've nothin' left to believe in
You've nothin' left to hold onto
You've got nothin' to trust
You've got nothin' but chains
You've been scourin' your conscience
Rakin' through your memories
Scourin' your conscience
Rakin' through your memories
That was the river
This is the sea

I can see you wavering
You're tryin' to decide
There's a war in your head now
It's tearin' you up inside
You're tryin' to make sense
Of something you just can't see
You're tryin' to make sense now
You know you once held the key
That was the river
This is the sea

River
River
River
River...

I hear there's a train
Comin' down the line
It's yours if you hurry
You still got some time
You don't need no ticket
You don't pay no fee
You don't need no ticket
You don't pay no fee
That was the river
This is the sea
That was the river
This is the sea

That was the river
This is the sea
That was the river
Behold the sea



Bob Dylan & GD, Watching The River Flow 7/19/1987 Eugene, Oregon

Down To The River To Pray, Alison Krauss

What Night Knows , Lauren Alleyne , THEthe Poetry Blog

How a Thing turns wretched , Aditi Machado , THEthe Poetry Blog