intentionally
why history
gonna make a late
like bars
color
the
no need for know
thank you

what's wrong with this week
the and

bring a of
bring the youth of america forward
there's david chadwick use the a corrupt the youth of america where they crept you
so
you have to tonight and next week
can you hear me
we have tonight and we have next week which is a couple of hours left and as i said last week i hope you came prepared to night with your favorite poet poem by your favorite poet
so we can have some reading tonight from you
and then what i thought and then also i said bringing
one poem or one sheet and which you have you can have more than one
one verse poem but one flat sheet of paper and we'd make a book out of that and i was thinking
that next week of our final night you bring everybody in the clash should have a poem in their book and everyone should have a chance to read his her own poem so i would like to do that next week
each person stand up this summer
a poem for tonight i would like us we didn't hear
yeah
you mean that the poem for the book will bring up next week and then read it and then what i'll do is make the book up after that and i'll make two copies and put it in the library
in case a clear happen yes sir
that would be really is the reason i didn't know course means that whenever you want the us to be an honest and you know my me knowing that russian you can email me up and let you know it's really the be
the nine
right
i was
put him on the web
for the world
getting on this baby this there is something big here
thanks to than today he turned me onto an article that was written i guess in one of the first issues of the
the very first issue of tricycle gary snyder just one breath the product is the poetry and meditation
and i copied this and i'm going to put it up in the library probably it maybe in this magazine rack there for you to read is really worth reading
but i thought just to spark is often a little bit i would just read a couple of paragraphs and before we start our
reading know when we do read when you do with your poems
please read
the tones and in a voice that carries that people can hear and slow enough so that we can enjoy the words poetry should be read aloud and not just just read silently
i mean what he does this compare poetry and meditation and here and shows how they conflate and come together but a couple of little short paragraphs that that would be
huh interesting just to because it kind of summarizes what we were talking about particularly in those first couple of classes
he says
so i came to understand poetry as a functioning or furthering i came to understand poetry as a furthering of language language is not something you learn in school it is a world you're born into his part of the wildness of mind
you master your home tongue without conscious effort by age of five language language with its sinuous syntax is not unlike the thermodynamics and weather systems or energy exchanges in the food chain completely natural and vital part of what and who you are
our poetry is a leap off or into that
i like that
he says
ah

he said that he was he asked when it was he spent six years in kyoto back in the fifties when you studying is in he said i asked my teacher or senso says so roshi oh to successful roshi i said sometimes i write poetry is that all right
he laughed and said it's all right as long as it comes out of your true self
he also said you know
poets have to play a lot i saw be
that seemed an odd thing to say because the word a serbian japanese has the implication of wandering the bars and pleasure quarters can behavior of a decadent and westeros wisdom
i know i knew he didn't
mean that for many years after doings in practice around kyoto i finally quit writing poetry it didn't bother me my thought was zen serious poetry is not serious in any case you have to be completely serious when you do zen practice so i try to be serious and i didn't write many poems i studied with him
for six years in nineteen sixty six just before odo roshi died i had a talk with him in the hospital i said roshi so as xin that serious poetry is not serious he said no no no poetry a serious xin is not serious
after i had it all wrong
i don't know who was by accident or it was the gift he gave me but i started writing more and maybe i did a little less sitting too i think i had come to the and to understand i think i had come to understand something about play to be truly serious you have to play that's on the side of poetry and meditation to in
fact play is essential to everything we do working on cars cooking raising kids running corporations and poetry is nothing special language is no big deal mind is no big deal meaning or no meaning is perfectly ok we take what's given to us with gratitude
a in ask no poetry is democratic xin his elite know
this democratic poetry is elite which is it everybody can do as and but only if you can do poetry know everybody can do poetry but only a been few can really do zazen poetry and literary world has sometimes been perceived as dangerous to the spirit career
but also poems have been called upon to express the most delicate and profound spiritual understanding
finally he says
i wrote a poem about about eq poem and i send to my old friend doc
somebody who wrote from his fish camp and this is the poem that gay rights back and this will be my pull my like my contribution this evening
because i think it hits he said in an eq problem here let me just get back to a second
equal rights humans are endowed with stupid the stupidity of horses and cattle poetry was originally a work out of hell self pride false pride suffering from the passions we must die for those taking this path to intimacy with demons and old doc rights back he
q says humans are endowed with stupidity of horses and cattle i think eq is full of shit
humans are endowed with the stupidity all their own horses and cattle know what to do
they do it well he's read about poetry as work out of how we ought to know phenomena experience themselves as themselves they don't need poetry we are looking at a mystery here how do these things how do these things has such an obstinacy and yeah
are dependent on my consciousness
how do these things have such an obstinacy and yet are dependent on my consciousness he doesn't even know that obliged to the mind always go there
when i practice fishing with two teenagers poetry never occurs to me but later it does i can go over the whole day ray that's what being human is all about is just as much a weakness as a strength you say language is a wild system born with us i agree it's wilder than
wild if we were just wild we wouldn't need language maybe we are beyond wild that makes me feel better
doc bachelor kanaka creek oregon
okay so i'm going to put this upstairs and you can read it in your leisure and makes a lot of very interesting parallels in that in that book and then article
two who wants to be first
now stand up and me
oh yeah
keep
honolulu baby
where'd you get those i
song of the taste by gary snyder
eating the living germs of grasses eating the large over a birds the plushie sweetness packed around the sperm of swaying trees the muscles of the flanks and thighs of soft voiced cows the bounce in the lambs leap the swish and the ox
his tail eating roots grown small inside the soil drawing on life of living clustered points of light spun out of space hidden in the great eating each other's seed eating ah each other kissing the
other in the mouth of bread lip to lip
as an eye on who's next
barbara

don't be shy now
i i suspect we're going to have a mary oliver night
that's just my wager where we could be worse i was gonna say if anyone wants to ever get together and do mary oliver night
okay yeah let's do it
in this one and it's called spring
this morning to birds fell down the side of the maple tree like a tough to fire a wheel of fire i love not out of control as they plunged through the air pressed against each other and i thought how i meant to live a quiet life
how i meant to live a life of mildness and meditation tapping the careful words against each other and i thought as though i were suddenly spinning like a bar of silver as though i'd shaken my arms and though they were wings of the buddha
when he rose from his green garden when he rose in his powerful ivory body when he turned to the long dusty road without and when he covered his hair with ribbons and the petals of flowers when he opened his hands to the world
definitely splendidly
no it's from west when oil
so it was going to read a song of the grass hut hermitage by your toe but now that i've just put a plug in for it i don't need to
my first first dharma events first dharma talk that i attended my first week living at gringotts i heard this poem
robed in black he smiles his own sorry robed in black he smells his own winter and his nostrils
wraps himself up and attachment and detachment and solitude perfect season for caution inventory and good manners next catches full side of himself in the mirror sees the old dog size he's ready now she murmurs steps from a cool summer night to the edge of the pasture where he lingers sleepless
he knows her at once of course the slightly tilted eyes the long sloping face the for curve of her lips and the fatal sting of her smile
had he come so far as to think that he was done with her
she points to the garden and beckons will he go this time knowing how she leaves him
he sees how poems and prayers will follow them but after she has swallowed all of him and all of him as hers she will take him from the garden and who will he be then
her hair floats on the smoky moon her teeth shine and her smile he sees that he must make her a gift of is dying than slowly removes the black robe puts on the fools mask and holds out his hand
duggan
the security come home to aren't you
re
don't take it out your sons or yep
it is a poem by
it's interesting by lama jason capos confounded that the looper school of tibetan buddhism and generally he's known for
very scholarly works i think this is a very interesting book that these are his devotional prayers
and so this one is to it's called prayer to sarasvati and says saraswati is gotta strongly affiliated with wisdom and the arts especially language and poetry her skin is white and she's extraordinary a beautiful and often pictured plane
take a sitar of a vena
some mean this
paradise to sarasvati captivating present stealing my mind like a lightning adorn cloud beautifying the sky there amid a celestial gathering of useful musicians compassionate goddess come here now those alluring honeybee eyes and that lotus
face that long dark blue hair glowing with white light there before me and oppose of seductive dance grant me sarasvati your power of speech those beautiful playful antelope eyes i gaze insatiably upon you seduce her of my mind goddess of speech with the mother's compassion
make our speech as one more beautiful than the splendor of a full autumn moon a voice eclipsing the sweetest melody of brahma a mind as hard to fathom as the deepest ocean i bow before the goddess saraswati ohms or std string thing
we've heard her moms are actually it training is the sound of the vineyard in the vena so
homes are seed a string playing hank mean that you can
the something apart from
did you
i returned back there
i didn't prepare for tonight but i am staying up at daniel's house daniel and nancy's and just happened to pick this book up from their shelf and it's called to drugs and loudest lee the sand poems by can rio rio kind and and when i
open it adjusts naturally opened to this page and it sounded fairly nice
my new favorite
and my words and
i watched people in the world throw away their lives lusting after things never able to satisfy their desires falling into deep despair and torturing themselves even if they get what they want how long will they be able to enjoy it for when heavenly pleasure
they suffer ten torments of hell
finding themselves more firmly to the grindstone
such people are like monkeys frantically grasping for the moon and the water and then falling into a whirlpool how endlessly those caught up in the floating world suffer
thank you

this is called what work is by philip living
philip levine own
we stand in the rain in a long line waiting at ford highland park for work
you know what work is if you're old enough to read this you know what work is although you may not do it
forget you
this is about waiting
shifting from one foot to another feeling the light rain falling like missed into your hair blurring your vision
until you think you see your own brother ahead of you maybe ten places
the rub your glasses with your fingers and of course it's someone else's brother narrower across the shoulders than yours but with the same said slouch the grin that does not hide the stubbornness the sad refusal to give in to rein to the hours wasted waiting to the knowledge that somewhere huh
had a man is waiting who'll say no we're not hiring today
for any reason he wants
you love your brother now suddenly you can hardly stand the love flooding you for your brother who's not beside you or behind her head because he's home trying to sleep off a miserable night shift at cadillac so he can get up before noon to study is german
works eight hours a night so we can sing wagner
the opera you hate most
the worst music ever invented
how long has it been since you told him you loved him held his wide shoulders opened your eyes wide and said those words and may be kissed his cheek
you've never done something so simple so obvious not because you're too young or too dumb not because you're jealous or even mean or incapable of crying in the presence of another man know just because you don't know
would work is
a group for people know his work includes reserve ah
right
the last
philip levine know the by and image
i think it's levine
well i brought a bunch and i can decide because i don't have a favorite thought our favorite punk but since smoker the opera ponds in there was a little thing about the opera there was a little thing about the opera and next palm so this is the one i was thinking of rain has called a night at the opera by william matthews
the tenors to fat the beautiful young woman complains and the soprano dowdy and old but what of hotel is not black if wriggle that has a hump lists if airy gilda and her entourage a flesh outweigh the cello section
that's it stands a great
in fairy tales the prince has a good heart and so as an outward and visible sign of an inward invisible grace his face is not creased nor are his limbs gnarled our ten are holes in his liver spotted hands the sopranos broad burgeoning face
their combined age is ninety seven their spittle in both pinches of her mouth a vein in his temple twitches like a worm their faces are a foot apart his eyes widened with fear as he climbs to the high the be flat he'll have to hit
it and hold for five dire seconds and then they'll stay in their stalled hug for as long as we applaud franco corelli wants bit bare get nelson's ear in just such a command embraced because he felt she'd upstaged him
how their costumes way fifteen pounds a piece they are poached and sweat and smell like fermenting pigs the voices rise and twine not from beauty nor from the lack of it but from the hope for accuracy and passion
the note and the emotion both with the one poor arrow of the voice beauties for amateurs
the famous river and the of the
the
years

this one's by pablo neruda
and it's called parthenogenesis and some of you might recognize it because norman read it this summer when they were giving the dharma lecture about pablo neruda
parthenogenesis
day by day all those who gave me advice get crazier and crazier
luckily i paid no attention and they took off for some other city where they all live together swapping hats with each other
they were praiseworthy types politically astute so that all my ineptitude caused them great suffering
they got grey haired and wrinkled couldn't stomach their chestnuts and finally an autumnal depression left them delirious
now i don't know which way to be absent minded or respectful shall i yield to advice or tell them outright they're hysterical
independence as such gets me nowhere i get lost in the underbrush i don't know if i'm coming or going
shall i move on or stand pat by tomcats or tomatoes
i'll figure out as best i can what i ought not to do and then do it
that way i can make a good case for the times i get got lost on the way if i don't make mistakes who have faith in my ears if i live like a savant no one will be greatly impressed
well i'll try to change for the better greet them all circumspectly watch out for appearances be dedicated enthusiastic till i'm just what they ordered being and and being at will till i'm totally otherwise
then if they let me alone i'll change my whole person disagree with my skin get a new mouth change my shoes and my eyes then when i'm different and nobody can recognize me since anything else is unthinkable i'll go on
as i was in the beginning

we did also have a mary oliver and do a movie
i'm actually going to read two poems one the real last week to remind you these are both by czeslaw milosz shoe is
born and raised in poland and actually lived in poland during an antioch occupation in in warsaw in had left and nineteen fifty one and i came to the university of california and taught there for many years and in won the nobel prize and nineteen eighty
and the poem that died on read last week was called gift i don't know if you remember this but a day so happy fog lifted early i worked in the garden hummingbirds were stopping over honeysuckle flowers there was no thing on earth i wanted to possess i knew no one worth my any end
feeding him whatever evil i had suffered i forgot to think that once i was the same men did not embarrass me in my body i felt no pain when straightening up i saw the blue sea and sales in that poem actually i believe was written here
can the united states this other poem was written in warsaw and nineteen forty four
and it's called a song on the end of the world and and he was living under not nazi occupation when this was written
on the day the world ends a be circles a clover a fisherman mins a glimmering net happy porpoises jump in the sea by the reins about young sparrows are playing and the snake as gold skinned as it should always be on the day the world ends
women walk through the fields under their umbrellas a drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of alon vegetable vendors shout in the street and the yellow sail boat comes nearer the island the voice of a violin lasts in the air and leads into a starry night
and those who expected lightening and thunder are disappointed and those who expected signs and arc arc angels trump's do not believe it is happening now as long as the sun in the mood or above as long as the bumblebee visits arose as long as rosy infants are born
burn no one believes it has happening now only a white haired old man who would be a profit get is not a profit for he's much too busy repeats while he binds whose tomatoes they will be no other end of the world there will be no other end of the world

so ah elsa have won by real con
choose his version of java tail which is a stories of the buddha in his ah
lives before he was the buddha
it took place in a world long long ago they say a monkey a rabbit and a fox struck up a friendship mornings frolicking field and hill evenings coming home to the forest living thus while the years went by when indra sovereign of the skies hearing of this
this curious to know if it was true turned himself into an old man tottering along made his way to where they were you three he said are of separate species yet i'm told play together with a single heart if what i've heard is true pray save an old man who's hungry then he said his staff aside
i sat down to rest simple enough they said and presently the monkey appeared from the grove behind bearing nuts he gathered there and the fox returned from the rivulet and front clamped in his jaws a fish he caught but the rabbit though he hopped and hopped everywhere couldn't find anything at all while the others cursed him be
cause his heart was not like there's miserable me he thought and then he said monkey go cut me firewood fucks filled me a fire with it and what they've done as he what he asked he flung himself into the midst of the flames made himself an offering for an unknown old man when the old man saw this his heart withered
he looked up to the sky cried aloud then sank to the ground and in a while beating his breast said to the others each of you three friends has done his best but what the rabbit did touches me most then he made the rabbit hole again and gathered the dead body up in his arms and took it and laid to rest in the palace of the moon
from that time till now the story's been told this tale of how the rabbit came to be in the moon and even i when i hear it find the tears soaking the sleeve of my robe
yeah japanese say that this nevada unbearable

so i'm going to read a poem by alicia page barry
wholesome of you have met she's actually just curious afternoon to friend of hers
and it's called
carpal tunnel dm
the
approached the day cautiously be grateful for any little thing you are able to do even the smallest dent in your pile of bills or dishes or laundry
expect nothing but to see your world falling apart indefinitely
then occasionally sees the pen write with passion the poem that's been searing inside of you or seized the stick sees the steering wheel and take your own damn self to buy groceries with no one to add to your list of people to make it up to someday
you will hurt for it perhaps for days after but be grateful for the those brief moments of feeling like your old self again the south who knew what she needed and asked only when not if she would attend she would attend to the details you are not her your days are not your the
or wheeled as you see fit do not run from this however breathe deeply and remind yourself that she never felt that way either this stronger stuff you long to be she never felt like her days where her own and though it might be worth some pain to feel like her again do not let yourself forget how she never see
seem to be able to sit just to sit or breathe just breathe and could not have imagined waking up with a deep sense of awe at the day or gratitude for little things like reading this poem that you are feeling right now even
at this very moment

okay so this is again to me the poet of poets couple of neruda kind of the waltman on pablo neruda kind of a walt whitman of south america at least and i am i feel like i could read any neruda poem and the they're all jewels but this one
one seems to me to summarize how the poet's vocation and the practitioners the bodhisattvas vocation or one in the same thing and it's called the poets obligation or it's it's translated from spanish of course
to whoever is not listening to the see this friday morning to whoever is cooped up in house or office factory or woman or street or mine or dry prison cell to him i come and without speaking or looking i arrive and open the door
of his prison and vibrations starts up vague and insistence a long rumble of thunder ads itself to the weight of the planet and the foam the groaning rivers of the ocean rise the star vibrates quickly in its corona and the see beats dies and
goes on beating so drawn on by my destiny i ceaselessly must listen to and keep the seas lamenting in my consciousness i must feel the crash of the hard water and gather it up in a perpetual cup so that wherever those in prison may be
wherever they suffer the sentence of the autumn i may be present with an errand wave i may move in and out of windows and hearing me eyes may lift themselves asking how can i reach the sea and i will pass to them saying nothing the story echoes of the wave a break
king up a foam and quicksands a rustling of salt withdrawing itself the grey cry of seabirds on the coast so through me freedom in the sea will call in answer to the shrouded hearts

yes
so this is from the collected works of william blake and at seventeen ninety three and it was written in london and this is plate eight from the marriage of heaven and hell and these were all etched and with drawings and these are on called the pro
verbs so prisons are built with the stones of the law brothels with the bricks of religion the pride of the peacock as the glory of god the lust of the goat as the bounty of god the wrath of the line as the wisdom of god the nakedness of women as the work of god excess of sorry
rose laughs excess of joy as weeps the roaring of lions the howling of wolves the raging of the stormy sea and the destructive sword our portions of eternity to great for the i have mirror the fox condemns the trap not himself joy impregnate sa
aros brings forth let man where the fell of a lion women the fleece of a sheep the bird is and s the spider web man friendship the selfish smiling full in the sullen frowning fool shall be both thought why's that they may be arod what is now proved was once
only imagined the rat the mouse the fox the rabbit watch the roots the lion the tiger the horse the elephant watch the fruits the cistern contains the fountain overflows one thought and fills immensity always be ready to speak your mind and the bass man will avoid you
do everything possible to be believed as an image of truth the eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn as the crow

he's me

hum this poem is by ie cummings
and there this book since i was in college or jumping long time
and
many times he can't cummings is best it is just listened to the words just like when i was thinking as i listened to the words like you were listening to a stream or like a brook
anyone lived in a pretty how town with up so floating many bells down spring summer autumn winter he sang his didn't he danced his did women and men both little and small cared for anyone not at all
they sewed their isn't they reaped their same sun moon stars rain children guest but only a few and down they forgot his up they grew autumn winter spring summer that no one loved him more buy more
when by now and tree by leaf she laughed his joy she cried his grief bird by snow and stir by still anyone's anyone's any was all to her
someone's married there everyone's laughed their crimes did their dance sleep wake hope and then they said they're nervous they slept their dream stars rain sun moon and only the snow can begin to explain how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down one day anyone died i guess and no one stooped to kiss his face busy folk buried them side by side little by little and was by was
all by all and deep by deep more buy more the dream their sleep no one in any one earth by april wish by spirit and if by yes women and men both dong ending summer autumn winter spring reap
they're sewing and went there came sun moon stars rain
you're coming with

as the first one as a carolina home minutes
sometimes you are the moon
in any case the moon
and then his or her still on the adamantine perfection of desire nothing more strong and to be helpless before desire no reason the simplified heard whispers the argument over only this no longer choosing anything but a said it's ball scraped clean to the bar
adam skull bone cut no longer horrifies the orange and silver signs spotted dog follows a bitch in heat greg gave gray geese fly past us crying the living can it help that love the world

the voices up
well this is her face and her face is a sufi mystic from persia fourteenth century and i could read any these poems but am i don't really have a favorite but i i chose this one because it has a good opening line it's called
in a handful of god
poetry reveals that there is no empty space when your truth for six it's shyness when your fears surrender to your strengths you will begin to experience that all existence is a teeming see of infinite life
water you could not count all the finely tuned musicians who are acting stoned for very intelligent and same reasons and of course are becoming extremely sweet and wild in a handful of the sky and earth in a handful of god we cannot count all the ecstatic lovers who are dancing there behind the as
serious veil true art reveals there is no void or darkness there is no loneliness to the clear eyed mystic in this luminous brimming playful world

rio can
you all real
the real kind of of the japanese go down
the holy spirit of enjoy poker room and walk up have a real car

i think intermittent rain in my hermitage a solitary light flickers as dreams return
outside
the sound of falling raindrops a crow sits in darkness on the wall
the fireplaces cold no charcoal awaits my imagined visitors
i reached for a volume of poems
tonight and solitude deep emotion
how can i explain it the following day

actually i was actually thinking about maybe cake and all the while estimates the yeah

when guy was talking last week about of
something about like it's a you what's coming from the next generation
this this occurred mean there was something gotta
i discovered sort of around the same time that i started getting into
another and
this is from saul williams is
and so reason having a holders because they realize that performance is actually half of this and birkenhead some kind of justice

if i could find a spot where truth echoes i would stand there was remembered as my children's future
i will let their future dwell in my past but i might live a writer now
now is the essence of my domain and it contains all that was will be and i am as i was and will be because i am and always will be that nigga i am a nigger i have that nigger i am that timeless nigga that swings or pendulums like vines through mines and booby trap minds that are enslaved by time i am
like that supersedes lifetimes i am it was be with serpentine hair and it's homeless there that was immortal clerics are in mortal fear and stone time capsules they still exist as the walking dead as i do
the original silver had a symbol of life the matriarchy severed head medusa that i am
i am a nigger i am that nigga i am that nigga i'm a negro yes negro negro from necro meeting dead i overcame it so they named me after it and i'd be spitting it out from behind and put it kick me signs on its back because i met the son of shook clack clack i'm before that i am before before i am before oops
oh before that i am before i before before i mean buddha before justice he's heard of the after death has eternity there is no death there's only eternity and i'll be riding on the wings of eternity like yeah yeah yeahs clack clack but my flight doesn't go undisturbed because time weeks
dreams deferred and all of my time fears are turning my days in the day mayors and i lived a mayor's reliving nightmares
of what time in my past shukla clack time has beaten my ass and high be having dreams of chocolate covered watermelons filled with fried chickens
the does
a little dignity sons and daughters standing up on them with big sticks aluminum foil hit and i'm trying to catch pieces of pollen fried chicken wings and and to my mom and uncle ben are standing in the corners with rifles pointed out the heads of little children don't shoot the children i shout to ensure the children but they say to way they've already been info
edited by time with that shit iz before my time i didn't want time i knew more time but it's too late they start shooting and the children and killing them one by one july two three by three or by for but by bugs six by six but my spirit is growing so by seven
faster than the speed of light because light only penetrates the darkness that was already there and i'm already there i'm here at the end of the road which is the beginning of the road beyond time but
where are my niggers that
oh shit those how we might niggers got lost in time
my niggers are dying before their time
my niggers are serving unjust time
my niggers are dying because
time
the

the different
bro
have you done
look the other
yeah
not really my

isn't
really
actually i'll tell you my favorite braunfels short holiday
eckert can really hear
the are muslim appliances ah
it's a dog in pawn in spring wind peach blossoms become begin to fall apart doubts do not grow branches and leaves
so me handle somebody
there's an old palm
it's sort of like that in read it cause i don't write very much anymore
sir like summer he has
but i figured out on the time came
angels do you know about angels gabriel you know about the angel gabriel angel arcane earthworm to deliver really more than anything explanations which could never be comprehended about birth and death and the business of saviors and the endless difficulty of human conduit for this divine
odds are it was not a look of relations she returned and understandably so not an easy burden ever to carry the life of god inside you in fact carrying already when he flew down with these words already carrying and not understanding and estela listening intently to
a these explanations and instructions prepare yourself to change the actual diapers and god
the but then to the one does it ever been otherwise still never otherwise and still not understanding so that at some point in spite of angelic words and ears air must have lifted out of the room completely and conveyance bent not to words or explanations but
you breathless intention of unspeakable patience listening intently she hears just carry no understanding just kerry kerry and then after whatever period of necessary and who could really say how long for divine gas station after having carried
not as other but as your own life your own own body conveyed just the time itself will teach the necessary dropping off and not a volition but of the two intersecting a bodies divine and human that own body itself will emerge trust
death when it feels like death no understanding and still let it go in this case let it go into this humblest of circumstances straw and dirt and witnessed only by the patient dopey but all through the all knowing eyes of cows and other stable dwelling creatures abiding creatures
who know better then to mourn a moment of creation know better than to afflict life where time a helpful way to enter if your savior into the eyes of cows and then in this as all as as into the all cases life spreads itself out but in this case being not so iphone
acted with time spread itself out wide and long and two centuries and centuries time enough for all sorts of stories and explanations to grow up around it but in the end for all of that nothing more than dope dopey stable dwelling creatures could discern that all that was born and all that grew was just a human intent on
love intend on love and so what but for centuries were crying miraculous miraculous even cows know better do not afflict where time or cause or purpose or that words patiently witness the normal playing out of conception because all there ever is is intent on the
have when has it ever been otherwise so now this angel remember this angel the one who carries the words of god the very words reasons the beginning are designed not to understand he's still around he still endowed with immersion to explain and in spite of all of it still he's prepared to try we could ask him
you know we could he would come if we ask and if we waited patiently waited until the air leaves the room completely devoid completely of conveyance something else floods and still and silent prepared in the pivotal patients of divine intervention and divine consumption
all of it full on and it's most human of forms no words and no understanding the only thing he ever thought to a whisper just carry just carry than let it go

comfortable span
i think i might refer it

so since sarah broke the ice i brought one of my own i don't tend to like to read palms i'm trying to learn how but i really like to hear them and to write them
so am i wrote this one of my birthday about my birthday last year where i turned twenty one i talked to her

dark garden blurred lines of existence mangles and softens blackness melts into me feeds on my color i uncurl my fingers that clung to your roots i let my body drop empty and
to the stars of orion's belt tears grown from my eyes unable to close again hand sink into earth drink and cold damp suffering until i am body darkness open clear failing
numbness burned away by a piercing beam of joy
this is flying crying in the garden is flying

he just go through airport security the real problem
learn is a few
the lines from a much longer poem
why the american pablo neruda
walt whitman

suzlon
i think i could turn and live with animals they are so placid and self contained i stand and look at them long and long they do not sweat and whine about their condition me they do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins
they do not make me sick discussing their duty to god
not one is dissatisfied not one his demented with the mimi of owning things
not one meals to another nor to his kind that live thousands of years ago

not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth

personal this son whose book guy leaves the grass it got some notoriety people i mean
the lady in the blue dress gave it to the guy from arkansas yes this one won't not this
perfect
preparation
pre-orders alerted worse
and
yeah

like
somebody else parts can go here brenda the to heard
it's time over the hers

guess not
site right
i liked it even more because i found it in an american daily newspaper and i was really impressed that you have poems they can enter daily newspaper and
it goes
the little child goes forth every day and the first thing it sees it becomes
walt whitman
what's the great gate and yeah
here

by at derek walcott
love after love
the time will come when with elation you will greet yourself arriving at your own door in your own mirror and each will smile at the others welcome and say sit here eight
you will love again the stranger who was yourself give wine give bread give back your heart to itself to the stranger who has loved you all your life whom you ignored for another who knows you by heart take down the love letters from the bookshelf the photographs
it's the desperate notes peel your own image from the mirror sit feast on your life

the military snowden bomb
i'm going to read t shirt went extinct the first one of a visitor blah blah blah blah blah blah
a virgin a virgin forest is ancient many breasted stable at climax
the
this one is
tech we will

no matter who never mind as the title the father is the void
the wife waves the child is matter matter mix it with his mother and their child is life a daughter the daughter is the great mother who with their father brother matter as her lover gives birth to the mind
now
the
the
okay so i don't have the for my head in mind but there's no problem when mary oliver is available so this is titled gratitude and i never saw it before
paging through
yeah i looked at about six a woman i like this one really a lot while still listening to all the poems being relatives
there was a challenge this is saving me from reciting by memory
i was walking the field in the fatness of spring the field was flooded with water water stained black black from the tissues of leaves oak mostly but also beach also blueberry bay
then the big hawk rose in her eyes i could see how thoroughly she hated me and there was her nest like a round raft with three white eggs in it just above the black water
she floats away climbs the invisible air on her masculine wings then glides back agitated responsible climbs again angry does not look at me
halfway to my knees in the blackwater i look up i cannot stop looking up how much time has passed i can hardly see her now swinging in that blue blaze there are days when i rise from my desk deaths or light
there are days when the field water and the slender grasses and the wild hogs have at all over the rest of us whether or not they may clear sense ride the beautiful long spine of grammar whether or not they rhyme

although
so keeping with the theme of food
i was gonna read a poem from this recipe book
i think it's quite good
is about an onion and it goes who knows what thus comes
picking up an onion what is held in hand how many dusty miles and blazing asphalt truck stops hidden in darkness flocked in steel how many cups of coffee and tired i'd waitresses greeted the driver how many minutes of country music and rambling
my thoughts helped onion here
how many days at home in ground intimately connected imbedded nestled unseen wrapped in absorption knowing just what to do with earth and water sun and wind to make them onion
that everything thus comes at once as onion what treasure is this dug up who knows what hand holds
and then
hence i think i ran away the then and then i have a little ballad that i wrote about me
the and it goes it goes like this
when the rains and in the covers mode i will shave my winter coat and scatter the hairs in the pacific winds bound for another slope if the sun sets in the sand spins i've always up one finger tip my hat and raise my crack to the oneness and song anything
and of duties should cry that's mine not yours and come at me with a knife then i will bow been my head and offer up my life for you see my friends there is no greater death and to live the life of another so i ask you today whose life do you live yours or others
as about me
if it

ah i the i had brought a poem that everything past week but this other guy but i thought maybe i just read when i wrote the that's gonna
we're gonna do it earlier and it will go it
oh yeah
it's like a band-aid men's not going to be slain
a you okay in the key lime mornings and freckled days all the intricate rented world can cause medical promise within the interval called confession a private glory not coterminous with private imploding surrender like the grace of cheating know and
never believe in insight only an endlessly outset we are unrolling widely and during each other like supermarket cards and parking lots fully portable and solid because it is raining and the post symbolic world and i feel that the changed the feeling to let this warm world through pioneer pie in the advertisement wound of an unmedicated night and outside the sliding glass
store like and used beginnings a confession grafted with the illusion patients like it's all right for someone not always so but you are right about the stars each one a setting sun and don't people were out from the insides and in this heartbreaking into roll the questions of growing old are still young but i felt like a turtle tangled up in a dry cleaning said
back towards the days beyond this one which are still perfect and life as essentially one long search for an ashtray and the you besides the unspeakable continents do you pride yourself on being played do you pass away and the magnetic for with knowing that the meaning of the world as outside the world oh california from being shamelessly a
destination within a destination within a destination and she said think of me as a place and if love exist in i know it must it doesn't a dark green and feathery three quarter time because the topography of graffiti and the punk rock aesthetic of bamboo and forever must be delayed because time will break the world
and no i don't think a broken window is symbolic and there's symbolic in is broken english symbolic means broken which i think inserted does so collapse collapse into everything would change to be inevitable even as it's being killed off forever

quarter of
you must get up now and go
yes i just do it
the

his poems called miles that's the name of my brother
what if i never called my brother's stupid when i was five and he was three because you didn't know the name of a bumble bee and hit him on the forehead with my palm stupid and almost knocked him over what if i hadn't have done that when his brain was motions still forming
what is the world seem to him more real and not a fierce and confrontation than he had to hide from how's that five year old me i love my brother and i have a debt so big that are the i don't even know where to begin

well this is the beginning of the traditional
poetry now
yeah i'm getting too
a lot of energy to regenerate with with caitriona as that fourth among ourselves and
we can only benefit from that we need to consult the stay behind the
as the you know says with placed back together
so thank you very much
happy poetics the ones next week next week as it was a reader own boss oh
i have a sack here was all
the have all your poems that you've given me if somebody the palms that you gave me you want to used for next week and want them back
a poor mouse
it

i took the liberty of copying some of those and britain alone
it may be putting them
look at some time that will put in the library
but
don't want them back i like
well i'll leave even here right now
didn't make any sense that they make go true
no during the predator he never been there are these hello i don't want to them
oh we have to oslo may all be doing juno tonight
lake and nine o'clock so you see her in other
please the bow and that he bought choir exposure to pass up