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Koan of Love's Cry
Last post 08-08-2006, 9:18 PM by girard77. 18 replies.
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08-05-2006, 1:30 PM |
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Justin
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Joined on 06-18-2006
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Tucson, Arizona
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Posts 75
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Points 1,275
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After the totality of this week's collective experience, and whatever that experience involved in the personal realm, for each one of you, I thought I would begin a new thread in which each participant could address "God" in 2nd person terms, here is my offering....
Koan of Love's Cry
I saw you in the Rain
I saw you in the Sun....
I saw you in the eye's of children
The stars and moon returned my glance....
And I was glad you acknowledged me
I met you in the embrace of those I loved....
I've seen you in the eye's of barflys and whores....
Those the world abhors are all your children
God damn You!!
You love this suffering slithering mass of humanity!
You always say "YES"....
And you give the "YES GIFT" to those who pass beyond themselves
Your such a trickster....
You lover of maya and illusion
But I can see you now!
Even in the eye's of the dying....
In the eye's of of worn-out suffering flesh you reside!
You shout daily in the streets....
But so few hear your voice
I know you speak to me....
For a lover's freedom, like a billion suns...
Melts and transforms my Heart
The consensus of fools is always unanimous....
Always/Already forgiven....
We shout "YES", back to your face!
To ALL....
Justin
The First And Foremost Wonder in This World Is the Thought, "I Am Different From God!" There Is No Greater Wonder Than This. Ramana Marharshi
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08-05-2006, 4:21 PM |
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08-05-2006, 5:10 PM |
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balder
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Joined on 06-18-2006
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SF Bay Area, CA
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Posts 249
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Points 5,270
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Thank you for the beautiful words, Justin.
Here is a poem I wrote when I was nineteen, addressed in the second person to God. I won first place with it in a national poetry contest.
Water Psalm
O, My Lord, You were there In the sterile room For the shouting blood and birth And my mother, a twisting Eve, tearing me Wild into the world spinning blood and brilliant lights, So white I could not see for days nor feel the holy hands unwind And cut me wet and naked from the love that lost me here.
And fished here from my sea bed good as dead, to the white room Harpooned on a shaft of air, I was hauled homeless through my houses Ninteteen years until I found, this morning in my death, My dry twig tongue unleaved these words, witness To sharp stars and long wind blowing Them brittle from my lips ~ To purple hands, Angels, You, Shining far Above the stars; And the pale pearl moon Sang me up the church and stairs To the womb warm water bright as stones And brilliant choir wild pounding notes and drowning Me unwound from wet-tongued words, unhinged, unhoused, and long breath whirled Down my lungs, O Lord, till the water closed around me and I woke.
~ Balder
May the boundless knowledge that time presents and space allows illuminate the native perspectives of your original face.
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08-06-2006, 1:08 AM |
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Justin
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Joined on 06-18-2006
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Tucson, Arizona
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Posts 75
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Points 1,275
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Beautiful and quite amazing Bruce! A sense of Whitman in it for me... Is the "tier effect" of the actual structure of the words themselves intentional?
Thank You,
Justin
The First And Foremost Wonder in This World Is the Thought, "I Am Different From God!" There Is No Greater Wonder Than This. Ramana Marharshi
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08-06-2006, 8:02 AM |
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08-06-2006, 8:24 AM |
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Helene
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Joined on 07-31-2006
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Posts 184
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Points 2,250
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O i hate cometiotion:( !
not to be outdone then, something i scribbled circa 98', which i wanted to call Ode To God initially...which was, in part 'Hildegard of Bingen' inspired.
~~ ~~Feather On The Breath Of God~~ ~~
Shall I praise your name in verse and rhyme?
Would it please you if I walked the paths of one who knew you well
on those distant shores of days gone by?
Is the radiant blue of Forget-me-not, Spring's testimony to you beauty?
Is the essence of your majesty captured in the splendor of a rainbow?
Can it be that, the ecstasy of your creation is in every heart beat,
every sunset, sunrise, thunderstorm, and each blade of grass? . . .
When the eyes of my eyes were opened I saw wonders that can't be spoken.
You took my hand when I least expected and blessed me with your Golden Presents.
Is this why in your heart I found mine
And in your face I see a treasure?
Do the tears of Joy as i contemplate you, pay tribute to your sweet embrace?
How can I proclaim this Glory when I'm just a feather on the breath of God!
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08-06-2006, 2:24 PM |
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girard77
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Joined on 08-01-2006
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Posts 45
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Points 690
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The Created
Not out of vanity alone does he expose us to the suns heat
Blistering and peeling like unripe fruit thrown in the furnace of the abyss
Everyday crying crying “my lord, my lord why hath thou forsaken me”
That is the mystery of mysteries
SOLVED
Lo and behold I see not the beloved of god, messiah son of Mary on the cross
Nay, behold, I see the son of man that is you and I, the fallen, the ellipse, the created
It was not the messiah, nor prophet or any other uncreated soul on any cross crying out for mercy, or in any cave running from pagans for dear life
“My servants the purified ones, thou hast no authority over”
It was the fallen man and woman; we are the LAMBS OF GOD
The Created
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08-06-2006, 3:14 PM |
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08-06-2006, 5:33 PM |
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girard77
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Joined on 08-01-2006
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Posts 45
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Points 690
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Balders poem and the Arabic word for god tilted 45 degrees
Thank you for the beautiful words, Justin.
Here is a poem I wrote when I was nineteen, addressed in the second person to God. I won first place with it in a national poetry contest.
Water Psalm
O, My Lord, You were there In the sterile room For the shouting blood and birth And my mother, a twisting Eve, tearing me Wild into the world spinning blood and brilliant lights, So white I could not see for days nor feel the holy hands unwind And cut me wet and naked from the love that lost me here.
And fished here from my sea bed good as dead, to the white room Harpooned on a shaft of air, I was hauled homeless through my houses Ninteteen years until I found, this morning in my death, My dry twig tongue unleaved these words, witness To sharp stars and long wind blowing Them brittle from my lips ~ To purple hands, Angels, You, Shining far Above the stars; And the pale pearl moon Sang me up the church and stairs To the womb warm water bright as stones And brilliant choir wild pounding notes and drowning Me unwound from wet-tongued words, unhinged, unhoused, and long breath whirled Down my lungs, O Lord, till the water closed around me and I woke.
~ Balder
May the boundless knowledge that time presents and space allows illuminate the native perspectives of your original face.
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08-06-2006, 5:35 PM |
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08-06-2006, 10:17 PM |
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timelody
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Joined on 06-17-2006
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Las Vegas, NV
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Posts 264
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Points 4,625
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Bruce, wow, I am very impressed with that poem! Holy poetry. I am assuming it was inspired by an experience?
What you see is what you get, What you get is what you see, Don't see it? Don't get it. Don't get it? Don't see it. What you see is what you get.
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08-06-2006, 11:38 PM |
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08-07-2006, 9:19 PM |
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balder
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Joined on 06-18-2006
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SF Bay Area, CA
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Posts 249
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Points 5,270
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Hi, Girard. I sent you a private message, to avoid cluttering Justin's thread with extraneous posts, but since you haven't seen it, I thought I'd post the message here anyway: If uploading the images is not working for you, try just right clicking on them and copying them and then pasting them in your post. That's how I did the "Allah" calligraphy above.
Justin, I'll probably come back here in a bit and replace this message with something more on topic, once it's served its purpose.
Best wishes,
Balder
May the boundless knowledge that time presents and space allows illuminate the native perspectives of your original face.
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