Words

Just in case there was something prior, More on words I dislike:

  • Eponymous. It seems so pretentious. Why not just say what it is? The title of whatever is the same as the person I’m writing about. Well OK, in fewer words. Or maybe it just annoys me as I had to look it up so many times as I kept forgetting what it meant. The word is just plain unfriendly.
  • Siblings. Hissssss. A cold word, an almost but not quite harsh word. It doesn’t sound at all like brother or sister. Maybe it’s good to use if you don’t like your family.
  • Facetious. Another pretentious word. It’s rarely spoken unless it’s the only three-syllable word someone knows. And then it’s used often.

And something to note about Yeats:

  • He is the only poet I’m aware of who has many poem titles longer than the poem.
  • I love & adore many of his short poems. There’s none better than “When You are Old,” “The Mask,” and “A Deep-sworn Vow.” “Leda and the Swan” is so powerful it can quite make you shudder. That poem is posted in full under “Myth and Mystery” in this blog.
  • Of course the Center Will Not Hold…there is no center. (This I discovered within Meditation.) Go ahead—look for your center.

And then, because there are no better words than those we receive from Rumi:

And thus it is I leave us for the day—to go sit on the patio, the dog and I—to watch the Thunderstorm, aye, by and by.

A View

Here’s a view from the past taken in the present. A little bit neater and cleaner than the old park walkways and fences were, and two bridges over the Mississippi river now. But I sigh a bit, and hug some past memories, and some lost time and loves.

Phil S Addis Photo posted on Facebook

The Mississippi river in the downtown Riverside Park. We ate our lunches there when we worked in the downtown stores. Our children played in the park and splashed in the river. Every child had to play on the cannon there. Sometimes we just went there to sit on the rocks and watch the river.

The River Queen paddle boat docked there in the summer, and we went to the Saturday night dances. There was a band and a bar (our ages didn’t matter) and we wore our formal dresses and danced with the bad boys we didn’t know and would never see again. We drank too much and had to act sober when our parents picked us up at the end of the night. It was good. We were innocent. And we were so very young then.

Needs In Time

A message to file under the “messages you get just when you need them.” I’ve gotten so tired of all the needs from every corner and all of the quarters that require tending. I’ve begun to hide the bids for my time or my money from Facebook and my in box. Especially am I tired of all the Covid news. Yes it’s important, yes we need to care, yes we need need need. I’ve done my bit but it’s never enough it seems. It’s everywhere. We can’t admire a sunset without being told it will go away if we don’t…. and …. I’ve run screaming from the metaphorical room.

Posted bt Ecological Consciousness

Thanks, Universe. I’ll pick up again, a little at a time. Right now I’m going to practice breathing. Breathe in, Breathe out. Peace in, Love out. Life in, Death out. Tend the garden. Play the piano. Go swimming. Right now I need to tend to myself, sit on my patio amongst the flowers. Read.

Borrowing Inspiration

“And I’ll dance with you in Vienna,
I’ll be wearing a river’s disguise.
The hyacinth wild on my shoulder
my mouth on the dew of your thighs.
And I’ll bury my soul in a scrapbook,
with the photographs there and the moss.
And I’ll yield to the flood of your beauty,
my cheap violin and my cross.”

Leonard Cohen

“In Vienna I will dance with you
in a costume with
a river’s head.
See how the hyacinths line my banks!
I will leave my mouth between your legs,
my soul in photographs and lilies,
and in the dark wake of your footsteps,
my love, my love, I will have to leave
violin and grave, the waltzing ribbons”

Federico Garcia Lorca

****

The words and the music take my breath away, my soul jumps with joy. It doesn’t matter to me the obvious use of Lorca’s poem. I just want to give Lorca a little credit here. As TSEliot famously said: immature poets imitate but mature poets steal.

The Cohen photo & his words to the song were posted by Ravenous Butterflies.

Seeking

I found this as I was getting ready to go get some brownies along with usual supplies of milk and soda. OK, and maybe some ice cream. I know, this is not about food stuffs, or gluttony, or is it? Didn’t we learn that all grasping, all wanting and desiring is what leads to all suffering? But I also seek. I seek in all of the books that I read, in all of the practices I make. I seek. For me, when I get all wound up in trying to figure something out, when I have the grace to become mindful, I let go. I tell myself to let go. And there’s nothing wrong with ice cream.

Ed Crowley

A young monk
asked the Sage:
‘Can you help me quiet
my mind from this
endless stream
of thoughts?’

The Sage replied:
“Bring me this
mind of yours”

The monk responded:
‘When I seek it
I cannot find it.
It seems it can’t
be grasped.’

The Sage stated:
“Graspless and
neither here nor there.
How can you quiet
what is not there?”

Suddenly Realizing
the ‘nothingness’ of
knowing ‘no mind’

The monk released
all clinging and any
grasping of thoughts

The monk “Awoke”
experiencing the
Nameless Essence

Within the
Blissfulness
of Silence

The Unknown Wanderer
simply walked the Way
without another word ~

epc 1956-

(Inspired by ancient
wisdom parables)