Inside this temple are mountains and rivers there are forests of oak, mountain lions and moss Seismic shifts and lightening bolts are inside innervating every silent thought All the dancing impulses of nature are here laughter, grief, hunger swirling in the winds and time There is ecstatic music, echoing through these chambers and starlight – Read More
bird song in the city false dawn
Oh great goddess, mother of creation, this earth What silent hunger causes big breasted women to wander in my dreams. Oh happy happy death – this fool asphyxiated in the heaving depths of the cleavage of the beloved.
“The world is not respectable; it is mortal, tormented, confused, deluded forever; but it is shot through with beauty, with love, with glints of courage and laughter; and in these, the spirit blooms timidly, and struggles to the light amid the thorns.” – George Santayana Lewis drives us to a deserted beach just outside of Read More
(from A Book for the Hours of Prayer) I live my life in growing orbits which move out over the things of the world. Perhaps I can never achieve the last, but that will be my attempt. I am circling around God, around the ancient tower, and I have been circling for a thousand years, Read More
The road from intensity to greatness passes thro sacrifice — Kassner For a long time he attained it in looking. Stars would fall to their knees beneath his compelling vision. Or as he looked on, kneeling, his urgency’s fragrance tired out a god until it smiled at him in its sleep. Towers he would gaze Read More
Yes, yes, it is Robbie Burns night – and here’s one for him Little Flo [audio:http://www.niksnexus.net/media/little_flow.mp3]
When your eyes are tired the world is tired also. When your vision has gone no part of the world can find you. Time to go into the dark where the night has eyes to recognize its own. There you can be sure you are not beyond love. The dark will be your womb tonight. Read More
[audio:http://www.intothedialectic.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/wild_geese.mp3] Mary Oliver, Selected Poems
You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Read More
pulling them like a river those who don’t drink dawn like a cup of spring water
click play button to hear this poem: As I begin to read your poems Their power enters my body Your faithful, deep feeling words Slip through my unsuspecting skin I feel them enter my bruisey heart As easily as air enters my lungs There is an affinity I dive into the pool It takes me Read More
One day there passed by a company of cats a wise dog. And as he came near and saw that they were very intent and heeded him not, he stopped. Then there arose in the midst of the company a large, grave cat and looked upon them and said, “Brethren, pray ye; and when ye Read More
[quicktime width=”240″ height=”170″]http://www.niksnexus.net/media/tuck.mov[/quicktime] Looking like he just stepped out of period Versailles – eccentric virtuoso, ghostly pale, long slender fingers, curly locks – Tuck strutted and Patti scatted and we sat on the grass at the ocean’s edge, listening and that was cool – didn’t reach down into my soul or anything, but it was Read More
Rest in peace you fucker [look, though ignoble, this is just a public rant to get it out of my system, unto the ether, OK] his brutal strength crushed my spirit his iron fist rules made me passive aggressive his stupid love made me hate – at least him his idiot dogma though, freed my Read More
Last night the moon came dropping its clothes in the street. I took it as a sign to start singing, falling up into the bowl of sky. The bowl breaks. Everywhere is falling everywhere. Nothing else to do. Here’s the new rule: break the wineglass, and fall towards the glassblower’s breath. this is half moon Read More
In the center of the earth I will push aside the emeralds so that I can see you— you like an amanuensis, with a pen of water, copying the green sprigs of plants. What a world! What deep parsley! What a ship sailing through the sweetness! And you, maybe—and me, maybe—a topaz. There’ll be no Read More
The soul, like the moon, is new. and always new again. And I have seen the ocean continuously creating. Since I scoured my mind and my body, I too, LaIla, am new, each moment new. My teacher told me one thing, Live in the soul. When that was so, I began to go naked, and Read More
I live my life in growing orbits which move out over the things of the world. Perhaps I can never achieve the last, but that will be my attempt. I am circling around God, around the ancient tower, and I have been circling for a thousand years, and I still don’t know if I am Read More
I was dead, then alive. Weeping, then laughing. The power of love came into me, and I became fierce like a lion, then tender like the evening star. He said, “You’re not mad enough. You don’t belong in this house.” I went wild and had to be tied up. He said, “Still not wild enough Read More
Now we will count to twelve and we will all keep still. This one time upon the earth, let’s not speak any language, let’s stop for one second, and not move our arms so much. It would be a delicious moment, without hurry, without locomotives, all of us would be together in a sudden uneasiness.
The leaves are falling, falling as if from far up, as if orchards were dying high in space. Each leaf falls as if it were motioning “no.” And tonight the heavy earth is falling away from all the other stars in the loneliness. We’re all falling. This hand is falling. And look at the other Read More
Holding its sky tightly in its arms, the cloud, wrapped in its cold, damp sheepskin. The garden of leaflessness, is alone, day and night, with its pure, forlorn silence. Its instrument the rain, its anthem the wind. Its clothe is the cloak of nakedness. And should it need a garment other than this, the wind Read More
And love is a yearning of the One for the One, And beauty is a sweet difference of the Same And oneness is the soul of multitude. http://www.savitribysriaurobindo.com/completeText.htm
Being set on the idea Of getting to Atlantis, You have discovered of course Only the Ship of fools is Making the voyage this year
Once when I was living in the heart of a pomegranate, I heard a seed saying, “Someday I shall become a tree, and the wind will sing in my branches, and the sun will dance on my leaves, and I shall be strong and beautiful through all the seasons.” Then another seed spoke and said,