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...and they lived happily ever after. Smith & Lady: poets, artists, photographers & adventurers.
Our relationship was forged to the soundtrack of Yoko Ono's magic,
frenetic, love-laden song, "Walking On Thin Ice." ( play song )
 
   
 
 

Posts Tagged ‘Being’

Tenderfooted and Casual

Monday, August 1st, 2011

TENDERFOOTED AND CASUAL

If I run, if I listen, if I sit, if I walk, if I drive
If I am quiet inside for a while
Let still the hard banter
Let still the goals
Let still the grip
Let soft the grip
Let slide
Let deep inside
Listen…

The winds kindle the stillness slightly
The winds kindle the water in the well
The winds touch
The winds coach

Close my eyes and look
The words are behind my eyelids
The words are glowing
Sometimes the words look like eyes
Eyes looking at me out of the firecracker mandalas
Eyes blinking at me from the screen of my closed eyelids

So there are the winds,
the words,
the firecracker mandalas,
the eyelids

And they come from the deep
and still and
silent
places

They catch me in soft winds
They catch me in their net of permeation
They catch me
when I let go of the video camera
of the goal
of my quotidian ambition

Or sometimes
they catch themselves
to my video camera
if my video camera looks like
a fun ride

Yes, sometimes the winds
and the words decide
the video camera is a fun ride
and they run with it and

Sometimes the video camera
is a caliper with sails and
sometimes the caliper with sails
is a church with an antenna and
sometimes the antenna has legs
into the ground of being and
sometimes the ground of being
sprouts two lovers husband and wife,
groom and bride

The lovers are part
of the sticky ground of being
they stick by means of gravity
for gravity moves Two
back to One again

Gravity through the Mother Earth
permeates the forms

The forms which are of mud and blood throb

Gravity is love
and it permeates the soles
and the wind of the sun
sets the forms on course,
slogging through it,
slogging through themselves,
the form slogging through itself,
the warm form embracing itself,
the warm form when I wrap my arms into You,
the warm form which seems temporary
but is a clumping together of
strands of One clasping itself
when we clasps embrace

The cosmic transcendence behind the lids
listening to the thrub of your chest
I see the firecracker stars

The eyelid of your chest
the eyelids of our Eye

Lady

 

Blind publish

Tuesday, August 24th, 2010

The most interesting thing about this was that I found a butterfly.

 

 
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