October 2011
The Poetry Issue
This Month's Contents: The Last Unraveling by Deborah Westmoreland | The Scent of Longing by Ben Rainey | Video: Whoever You Are, Holding Me Now in Hand by Walt Whitman | The Bellows by Art Ticknor | Pulse by Lauren Hirsh | The First Sun by Rabindranath Tagore | Humor | Reader Replies | Question of the Month
Editor's Note
by Shawn Nevins
When night's late hour unrolls upon my plans
I want to call, on occasion, and ask, "God, what is this place?"
Where Angels dress as demons
And dance between
Love and obsession,
Compassion and ambition,
Lies and intuition.
Instead of harps, they play with pens as if possessed,
Scrawling again and again
Words they cannot live.
Give us one line that echoes
Across the empty space.
Not for me, or you, or us,
This truth:
Plunging your mind into the moment
It's silence all the way down.
The Last Unraveling
by Deborah Westmoreland
|
It's as if Dredging the half-dead putrid thing Yanked out then It's getting down to it, |
The Scent of Longing
by Ben Rainey
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Walt Whitman Poem - "Whoever You Are, Holding Me Now in Hand"
read by Eric Vincent
If you don't see a video clip above, go directly to youtube.com
The Bellows
by Art Ticknor
|
Lying in bed, Luxuriating in a few minutes between waking and arising, I listen to the sound of my breathing… Where will I be when the bellows are silent? What will I be? After years of searching within, I discovered the answer – I recognized what I am that subtends the waking, dreaming, and dreamless sleep states, that remains unchanging with the passing of nights and days, of seasons, of years, of life. Life and death I now see in perspective… And see that they don't affect me. |
Pulse
by Lauren Hirsh
A certainty fused with an uncertainty yields strange, e l a s t i c results.
Confusion in essence, a pulsing brevity
Seeking within a story without, throughout.
I tell thee to rid thyself of fame and torture.
Mixing paint and blood, a pulsating brush reveals a portrait.
Now undisguised, it swims on the canvas with lucid knowing
Breathing in the day...today.
And tomorrow's uncertainty is seen with the clarity of a sea monster
Gliding through the dark, sending shadows to the surface.
Frequently I wait in hiding, hide in waiting, always churning, not yet flowing.
Yet the scripture flows through me, giving strength to my limbs,
Weight to my dreams, air to my musty, heavy heart.
It pumps into my tumultuous river wine and whispers
Of now, and here, and then, and how, and sometimes where
Yet never why.
Why is written elsewhere.
It is the river itself.
The river pulsating with the brevity of an infinitesimal moment in time.
Eternity has its own pulse
And it resonates within me.
I hear your heart beating, the rhythm of one.
There is only One, and yet in so many places, so many faces
Coming together, pushing apart, like rubber souls
Bouncing into, off of one another recklessly, with so much longing.
Where is that fusion? I don't know.
Oh, there it is...
I think.
No, I know
... ... ...
It's this
|
The First Sun
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Humor....
"Detected"
In Congress once great Mowther shone,
Debating weighty matters;
Now into an asylum thrown,
He vacuously chatters.
If in that legislative hall
His wisdom still he'd vented,
It never had been known at all
That Mowther was demented.
~ Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914)
Question of the Month replies
Q: What do you know for sure?
A: There is no security in life. But my mind demand security all the time -this I know for sure
Q: What do you want to know for sure?
A: Nothing
~ T. T.
What I know for sure is that being is. Everything else is up for grabs.
I feel I want to add something. I've come to really enjoy deep ignorance. I do remote healing and, lately, I find myself often starting a session by going into a state of deep ignorance. I just let go of everything I think is the way it is. I just let myself wallow in not knowing what to do, or whether I even know what to do anyway, or not knowing what could be wrong with this person with whom I am engaging, or whether any of this could even work, or whether any of this matters, or what I am or am not, or whether or not there is an I for whom anything matters, etc. Then I slowly come to and make it all up as I go. That's how I do remote healing these days.
~ I. B.
What do you know for sure?
Nothing for sure, except "Knowing-Being Itself" for sure!
What is known or unknown is perceptual and conceptual, and hence I cannot say I know for sure!
What we claim to know for sure is empirical and pragmatism!
What do you want to know for sure?
Stay with Knowing-Being as I know for sure!
In other words, let Life live itself as it would!
~ P. B.
What do I know for sure? I know for sure that I know absolutely nothing! Even "I Am" I don't get. I, really, truly, truly know nothing for sure!!!
What do I want to know for sure? This question is as easy to answer as the first. There is nothing left I want to know for sure. Nothing. I'm good.
~ S. R.
And...
this month's Question:
May I make a suggestion for a question that should bring forth much insight into the power that music has in our lives. We were talking recently about the lighthearted music that makes us glad and forget our trivial troubles but we have enjoyed spiritual type, uplifting music too, that tries to remind us of some mighty truths. There are so many beloved songs that we have been blessed with that I don't know how I could narrow it down to two. But off the top of the heart, at this moment, I pick Nature Boy and Imagine. I'll bet your audience would really enjoy that spiritual, musical, exercise. I sure would like to read what others have to say about the subject.
The question could be along these lines:
Name two special songs that you have loved for many years.
Why do you think these songs have had such a long time influence in your life? [Bonus points if you can provide a YouTube link to the music video]
Thanks for the monthly newsletter and best regards,
~ N. H.
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