odd discoveries

 

 .

Martin Buber quotes an old Hasid master who said, "When you walk across the field with your mind pure and holy, then from all the stones, and all growing things, and all animals, the sparks of their souls come out and cling to you, and then they are purified and become a holy fire in you."

–Annie Dillard
Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

...

We leave traces of ourselves wherever we go, on whatever we touch.

One of the odd discoveries made by small boys is that when two pebbles are struck sharply against each other they emit, briefly, a curious smoky odor.

The phenomenon fades when the stones are immaculately cleaned, vanishes when they are heated to furnace temperature, and reappears when they are simply touched by the hand again, before being struck.


–Lewis Thomas
The Lives of a Cell

...

Go inside a stone

That would be my way.

Let somebody else become a dove

Or gnash with a tiger’s tooth.

I am happy to be a stone.

From the outside the stone is a riddle:

No one knows how to answer it.

Yet within, it must be cool and quiet

Even though a cow steps on it full weight,

Even though a child throws it in a river;

The stone sinks, slow, unperturbed

To the river bottom

Where the fishes come to knock on it

And listen.

I have seen sparks fly out

When two stones are rubbed,

So perhaps it is not dark inside after all;

Perhaps there is a moon shining

From somewhere, as though behind a hill—

Just enough light to make out

The strange writings, the star-charts

On the inner walls.

–Charles Simic
The Voice at 3 A.M.

  

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if we lose our way

. 
 

[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]

 

.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in 

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere 

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done 

by only me is your doing,my darling) 

                                                      i fear 

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want 

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) 

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant 

and whatever a sun will always sing is you 

here is the deepest secret nobody knows 

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud 

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows 

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) 

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart 

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

–E. E. Cummings
[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

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red thread

.

This must be well grasped: the world hangs on the thread of consciousness. No consciousness, no world.

–Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj

.

On foot
I had to walk through the solar system
before I found the first thread of my red dress.
Already, I sense myself.
Somewhere in space hangs my heart,
sparks fly from it, shaking the air, 
to other reckless hearts.

–Edith Södergran (1892-1923)
Stina Katchadourian translation

.
Paris by night, 
from the International Space Station
.

heat

.

Behind matter there is some kind of heat, around and behind things,

so that what we experience is not the turtle nor the night only,

not the rising whirlwind, not the certainty, 

nor the steady gaze.

–Robert Bly 

 .

invitation

.

Let us look for secret things

somewhere in the world

on the blue shores of silence.

...

I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

–Pablo Neruda

.
 

relish

.

Betrothed to Righteousness might be

An Ecstasy discreet

But Nature relishes the Pinks

Which she was taught to eat


–Emily Dickinson

.

lesson

.

Wait for her with an azure cup.
Wait for her in the evening at the spring, among perfumed roses.
Wait for her with the patience of a horse trained for mountains.
Wait for her with the distinctive aesthetic knowledge of a prince.
Wait for her with the seven pillows of cloud.
Wait for her with strands of womanly incense wafting.
Wait for her with the manly scent of sandalwood on horseback.
Wait for her and do not rush.

If she arrives late, wait for her.
If she arrives early, wait for her.

Do not frighten the birds in her braided hair.
Wait for her so that she may sit in a garden at the peak of its flowering.
Wait for her so that she may breathe this air so strange to her heart.
Wait for her to lift her garment from her leg cloud by cloud. 
And wait for her.

Take her to the balcony to watch the moon drowning in milk.
Wait for her and offer her water before wine.
Do not glance at the twin partridges sleeping on her chest.
Wait and gently touch her hand as she sets a cup on marble.
As if you are carrying the dew from her wait.
Speak to her as a flute would to a frightened violin string,
As if you knew what tomorrow would bring.

Wait, and polish the night for her ring by ring.

Wait for her until night speaks to you thus:

There is no one alive other than the two of you.

So take her gently to the death you so desire,

and wait.

–Mahmoud Darwish

Lesson From The Kamasutra
Translated by Carolyn Forché 

.

Existence leans its mouth toward me, because my love cares for it. –Meister Eckhart

.

To kiss a forehead is to erase worry.

I kiss your forehead.

To kiss the eyes is to lift sleeplessness.

I kiss your eyes.

To kiss the lips is to drink water.

I kiss your lips.

To kiss a forehead is to erase memory.

I kiss your forehead.

–Marina Tsvetaeva

.

your catfish friend

.

If I were to live my life
in catfish forms
in scaffolds of skin and whiskers
at the bottom of a pond 
 

and you were to come by 
one evening
when the moon was shining 
down into my dark home 

and stand there at the edge 
of my affection
and think, "It's beautiful 
here by this pond. I wish 
somebody loved me,"

I'd love you and be your catfish 
friend and drive such lonely 
thoughts from your mind 
and suddenly you would be
at peace,

and ask yourself, "I wonder 
if there are any catfish 
in this pond? It seems like 
a perfect place for them."

–Richard Brautigan

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air

.

Breathing, all creatures are 

Brighter than the brightest star 

You are by far 

You come right inside of me 
Close as you can be 

You kiss my blood 
And my blood kiss me.


–Mike Heron
(The Incredible String Band)

.

My wish is that you may be loved to the point of madness. —André Breton

.

Find that flame, that existence,
That wonderful woman
Who can burn beneath the water. 

No other kind of light
Will cook the food you
Need.


–Hafiz

.

being to timelessness as it's to time

 .

being to timelessness as it's to time,

love did no more begin than love will end;

where nothing is to breathe to stroll to swim

love is the air the ocean and the land

(do lovers suffer?all divinities

proudly descending put on deathful flesh:

are lovers glad?only their smallest joy's

a universe emerging from a wish)

love is the voice under all silences,

the hope which has no opposite in fear;

the strength so strong mere force is feebleness:

the truth more first than sun more last than star

-do lovers love?why then to heaven with hell.

Whatever sages say and fools,all's well


–E. E. Cummings

.

'Exotic' - timothy allen:

'A couple in the central highlands of Papua, New Guinea share an intimate moment during a courtship ritual. Runner up, National Geographic Best Travel Pictures of 2011

.

you are tired (I think)

.

You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.
Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)
You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.
But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.
Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.

–E. E. Cummings

.
ok
.

needful things

.

I want a trouble-maker for a lover;
blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of flame. 

Who quarrels with the sky and fights with fate. 

Who burns like fire on the rushing sea. 


–Rumi

...

I want a soul mate who can sit me down,
shut me up, tell me ten things I don’t already know, and make me laugh.

I don’t care what you look like, just turn me on.
And if you can do that, I will follow you on bloody stumps through the snow.
I will nibble your mukluks with my own teeth.

I will do your windows.
I will care about your feelings.
Just have something in there.


–Henry Rollins

.

love is not all

.

Love is not all: It is not meat nor drink

Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain,

Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink

and rise and sink and rise and sink again.

Love cannot fill the thickened lung with breath

Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;

Yet many a man is making friends with death

even as I speak, for lack of love alone.

It well may be that in a difficult hour,

pinned down by need and moaning for release

or nagged by want past resolutions power,

I might be driven to sell your love for peace,

Or trade the memory of this night for food.

It may well be. I do not think I would.


–Edna St. Vincent Millay

.

words for love

.

Sanskrit has ninety-six words for love; ancient Persian has eighty, Greek three, and English only one. This is indicative of the poverty of awareness or emphasis that we give to that tremendously important realm of feeling.

Eskimos have thirty words for snow, because it is a life-and death matter to them to have exact information about the element they live with so intimately.

If we had a vocabulary of thirty words for love … we would immediately be richer and more intelligent in this human element so close to our heart. 

An Eskimo probably would die of clumsiness if he had only one word for snow; we are close to dying of loneliness because we have only one word for love. 

Of all the Western languages, English may be the most lacking when it come to feeling. 


–Robert Johnson
The Fisher King and the Handless Maiden

.

love songs

.

We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright.

–Ernest Hemingway
A Moveable Feast


...

When you find a man

Who transforms

Every part of you
Into poetry,

Who makes each one of your hairs
Into a poem,

When you find a man,
Capable,
As I am
Of bathing and adorning you
With poetry,

I will beg you
To follow him without hesitation,

It is not important
That you belong to me or him

But that you belong to poetry.


–Nizar Qabbani
Bassam K. Frangieh and
Clementina R. Brown translation

.

(though love be a day

.

(though love be a day

and life be nothing,

it shall not stop kissing)

–E. E. Cummings

.

love is a verb

.

love never exists 

as a fact 

it is a verb 

and you can do 

all things 

with or without it 

it is nature 

in action 

being true 

to itself 

without even 

a thought


–Benjamin Dean

.

It is earnestness that is indispensable, the crucial factor.

Sadhana is only a vessel and it must be filled to the brim with earnestness, which is but love in action.

For nothing can be done without love.


–Nisargadatta Maharaj

.
Captain January, 1924
.