(Page 66 of
295, or .22)
(Page 26 of 295, or .09)
|
perfectly indifferent, perfectly working together in discord for a Good beyond good, for a Being more timeless in transience, more eternal in its dwindling than God there in heaven. |
(Page 66 of
295, or .22)
|
As it has members. Chemically impure Are all 'my' beings. There's no single cure For what can never have a single cause. |
(Page 85 of
295, or .29)
|
Thirteen hundred thousand sermons; Somewhere between Calvin on Christ (God help us!) and the lizards; Somewhere between our soiled and greasy currency of words And the first star, the great moths fluttering About the ghosts of flowers, Lies the clear place where I, no longer I, Nevertheless remember Love's nightlong wisdom of the other shore; And, listening to the wind, remember too That other night, that first of widowhood, Sleepless, with death beside me in the dark. Mine, mine, all mine, mine inescapably! But I, no longer I, In this clear place between my thought and silence See all I had and lost, anguish and joys, Glowing like gentians in the Alpine grass, Blue, unpossessed and open. |
(Page 132 of
295, or .45)
|
Offer the unplucked flower, the frog's soliloquy Among the lotus leaves, the milk-smeared mouth At my full breast and love and, like the cloudless Sky that makes possible mountain and setting moon, This emptiness that is the womb of love This poetry of silence. |
(Page 165 of
295, or .56)
|
Up here aloft where Shiva Dances above the world, What the devil do you think I'm doing? No answer, friend---except
How far, you
say, from the hot plains,
|
(Page 167 of
295, or .57)
|
Who in sunlight dance among the birds and the children at their play, Who at midnight dance among corpses in the burning grounds, You Shiva, you dark and terrible Bhairava, You Suchness and Illusion, the Void and All Things, You are the lord of life, and therefore I have brought you flowers; You are the lord of death, and therefore I have brought you my heart--- This heart that is now your burning ground. Ignorance there and self shall be consumed by with fire. That you may dance, Bhairava, among the ashes. That you may dance, Lord Shiva, in a a place of flowers, And I dance with you. |
(Page 234 of
295, or .79)
|
The gods wiggle-waggle but the sky stands still. |
(Page 246 of
295, or .83, poem by Catullus (Catullus 5))
|
nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux, nox est perpetua una dormienda. Da mi basia mille. |
|
when once our short light hides, there is one perpetual night. Give me a thousand kisses ... |
