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PostPosted: Sat Sep 22, 2012 1:17 pm 
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This is intended to perhaps be an Anthem for the Occupy movements. Try the tune of Beethoven's Ode To Joy, the Fifth Symphony.

Occupy the Earth

Arise, arise, all Human Billions,
Take up this Universal Path.
Peaceful join all sisters, brothers,
Yet Adamant our joined wills.

In Democracy Abides All Power,
If only we United are.
From Arab Spring to cities world wide,
We must become One Family.

Look within your self and see
what it takes to make all free.
Treat all as you would be treated,
Use only what you need to be.

Let them not divide and rule us,
We must all in amity,
Work together as we're able
To ensure we all live free.

There are neither police nor prisons
Suffice our United Voice to quell.
Occupy where e'er you come from,
City street or prison cell.

World divided, haves and have nots,
Will end in loss of Liberty.
All together, World United,
We must prevail or who'll be free.

If you know someone active in Occupy, perhaps pass it on.
Dreamed one night and then written out by Ted


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PostPosted: Sun Sep 23, 2012 4:02 pm 
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Some really lovely stuff here. Wonderful idea for a thread.

This is not mine (oh if only) but it's one I came across recently by Theodore Roethke and which I feel says so much of relevance to what I understand about MBT.

In a Dark Time

In a dark time, the eye begins to see,
I meet my shadow in the deepening shade;
I hear my echo in the echoing wood--
A lord of nature weeping to a tree,
I live between the heron and the wren,
Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den.

What's madness but nobility of soul
At odds with circumstance? The day's on fire!
I know the purity of pure despair,
My shadow pinned against a sweating wall,
That place among the rocks--is it a cave,
Or winding path? The edge is what I have.

A steady storm of correspondences!
A night flowing with birds, a ragged moon,
And in broad day the midnight come again!
A man goes far to find out what he is--
Death of the self in a long, tearless night,
All natural shapes blazing unnatural light.

Dark,dark my light, and darker my desire.
My soul, like some heat-maddened summer fly,
Keeps buzzing at the sill. Which I is I?
A fallen man, I climb out of my fear.
The mind enters itself, and God the mind,
And one is One, free in the tearing wind.


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PostPosted: Tue Sep 25, 2012 4:22 pm 
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Wow Rosie,

That was a seriously deep/awesome poem. Thank you so much for sharing!

-C

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PostPosted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 6:00 am 
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Today, I chuckled with joy when I realized the silliness of my internal thoughts; even my ego began to laugh - until it realized that I was watching.

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-"You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might find... you get what you need"


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PostPosted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 11:43 am 
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Justin, that is great. It should be a quote on facebook, right up there with all that cool Tesla stuff. --beau

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"All the world's a Stage and all the men and women merely players, They have their exits and their entrances and ONE man in his time plays many parts, his acts beings Heaven ages"---Shakespeare


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PostPosted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 8:09 am 
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Quote:
Today, I chuckled with joy when I realized the silliness of my internal thoughts; even my ego began to laugh - until it realized that I was watching.
I like it very much Justin!

Reminds me of a guided meditative self inquiry from Adyashanti I listened to yesterday: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WU1Agfd_nQw.
Quote:
Who or what am I? I am not thought (mind). There is thought, and there is also awareness of thought. Awareness itself lies before thought. Awareness is there before any thought arises. Awareness is there to notice thoughts as they arise. Awareness is there as thought passes. Although there is thought, there is also the witness of thought, and the witness of thought always stands prior to thought. And therefore you cannot be your thoughts. Thoughts happen and occur within you. Thoughts are not who you are. Thoughts do not tell you who you are. Thoughts cannot tell you who you are.

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Everything is simpler than we can imagine, at the same time more complex and intertwined than can be comprehended--Goethe, Maxims & Reflections


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PostPosted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 4:30 pm 
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This is actually one of the first songs I wrote sounds better as a poem though.

Gates of Dawn

Songs we make and words we take,
come softly singing well im dreaming.
They said our love would always last
but im afraid,
like the times they
will pass.

My over-soul enlightens me
through consciousness ill be with
thee.

Echoes of the Love we bring,
Shadows of the Fear we breath,
Worlds of the Mind we breach.

Images near the Gates of Dawn,
that burn my mind, across all time.
Im taking a trip to descend,
that of which I cant defend.
Over jagged rocks, and kept up lies,
to break my most inner ties.

Echoes of the Love we bring.
Shadows of the Fear we breath.
Worlds of the Mind we breach.

Doorman man said feed you head,
and you'll be one within the sun.
Sacred, solid, golden figures moving around,
through out the sound.
Well we sit and wait,
for dawn to break.

Echoes of the Love we bring.
Shadows of the Fear we breath.
Worlds of the Mind we breach.


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PostPosted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 10:51 pm 
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Sainbury,

I just read your sister's poetry and was very touched.... all of them were so beautiful. I would love to read more if possible.

Don't know why, but one of them in particular put me in mind of this poem I wrote a couple years ago:

I'm thinking recently
I might try and be a monk.
A bowl,
A room,
A discipline of prayer
A falling into space
A can of tea on the fire
in the middle of the desert
A life of reverence
Breathing in
Breathing out
Breathing in
Breathing out
Slowly
Steadily
Great enormous breaths
Who would choose to stay on land?
Who would not want to
strip down and walk naked
to the reservoir
where you can feel the
earth breathing?

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The secret of dreams is that subject and object are the same, but you had to give names to everything, and make logos for bad ideas, and because of that you will have to learn to touch what you make.


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PostPosted: Wed Feb 05, 2014 10:15 am 
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Here's a nice one of my sister's.


Lost Cause

It's
snowing
on my
calendar,
snowing
on the
days
we
were
to meet,
snowing
until
I can't
see

Kathy Sain


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PostPosted: Wed Feb 05, 2014 11:37 am 
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Beautiful.
And how appropriate for today!
Love the spare, austere quality of her work.

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The secret of dreams is that subject and object are the same, but you had to give names to everything, and make logos for bad ideas, and because of that you will have to learn to touch what you make.


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PostPosted: Wed Feb 05, 2014 12:14 pm 
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I found some of her hard copies. She would be so pleased that you like them.

Quick!
Send
that
ambulance
to
my
heart,
gather
the
pieces,
and
drive
them
to the
Moon,
to
the
Hospital
for
Broken
Dreams

Kathy Sain


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PostPosted: Wed Feb 05, 2014 12:31 pm 
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Wow.
All I can think of is "Slay me with your gentle arrows".

Her words go right through me.

How many poems did she write?

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The secret of dreams is that subject and object are the same, but you had to give names to everything, and make logos for bad ideas, and because of that you will have to learn to touch what you make.


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PostPosted: Wed Feb 05, 2014 2:04 pm 
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She wrote probably 50 or so - I don't like all of them. And I probably don't have all of them. Her apartment was a mess (understatement) so some may have gotten thrown away.

She spent 1975 and '76 in Kyoto Japan working on her Masters in Fine Arts studying porcelain - she was a potter. She wrote quite a few poems while there.

Before she left:

Of Beginnings and Endings

I've sorted my possessions,
Packed away my books,
Given last instructions,
Taken final looks,
Reviewed my reservations,
Marshalled up the fears,
Preparation for tomorrow,
Beginning of the years.



Zen Temple Poem

Sometimes
My mind gets so
Like a donkey
Just wanting to sit
Like a rock in
The stream of change,
But somehow,
We move.

To her best friend:

Yes,
Sometimes
When I'm
Walking up
My sensei's long hill
In the rain,
With my feet and coat
Getting
Wetter and wetter,
I think of you
In the South
With husband and sons
And wonder
If ever
You look out the window
To a long hill in Kyoto
And rain.


Winter Bath

Red, steaming,
I emerge,
Bones rejoicing
In warmth.


Sleeping
these nights
while you're away
requires
exhaustion
and careful planning.


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PostPosted: Wed Feb 05, 2014 3:50 pm 
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I haven't read a lot of Buddhist poetry, but I can really feel that same sensibility in Kathy's work.

Here is one of mine:

ASSISTANCE

I have emerged
from a dark and narrow tunnel.
A woman assisted me,
but I was thrown to the ground
before I could see her face.
The man who gave me the key to her door -
where is he now?
From my kitchen window
I notice the face of a forest spirit
where before there was only trees.

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The secret of dreams is that subject and object are the same, but you had to give names to everything, and make logos for bad ideas, and because of that you will have to learn to touch what you make.


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PostPosted: Wed Feb 05, 2014 7:03 pm 
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Thank you, Linda.

It's none of my business, and I apologize if this is inappropriate, but I think you should seriously consider starting a thread somewhere on the MBT forum devoted to your sister's poetry. Her work is so beautiful. It would be really nice to have them all in one place, and who knows...there might come a time when they help somebody get through another day.
Thanks so much for sharing them.

Dave

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The secret of dreams is that subject and object are the same, but you had to give names to everything, and make logos for bad ideas, and because of that you will have to learn to touch what you make.


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