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| 27 May 2009 01:34:43 am |
 All I Ever Quested |
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All I Ever Quested
All I ever Quested..
I Always Knew..
Hidden In The Silence
Always Waiting..
With A Cup
Of Tea...
For me....
S. Alari |
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Category : The mystery of being
| Posted By : Stanley |  Comments[164] |  Trackbacks [0] |
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| 27 May 2009 12:59:31 am |
| Sitting In A Bowl Of Silence |
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I Sit In A Bowl Of Silence
I sit in my bowl of silence
The silence ...is full..
Words that want..
Rest
The fullness..that is
Before knowledge
Now..Open..Drinking
In the silence
The fish...sees..
The Sea..
And..
Is..The Sea...
Questions..bring
The folly of answers
Now..is everything..
That tomorrow
Yearns for..
When words come
I forget..
I am the knowing
That comes
Before words...Yearned...
I...am...before..
Remembering.
S. Alari |
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Category : The mystery of being
| Posted By : Stanley | Comments[136] | Trackbacks [0] |
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| 13 May 2009 03:09:56 pm |
| Black I Be |
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BLACK NIGHT
STAR BRIGHT
WHICH AM I
TO BE TONIGHT?
WOULD I WISH,
WOULD I MIGHT
BE THAT BLACK
I SEE TONIGHT
THEN I WOULD SHINE
THIS NIGHT!
BUT, I WOULD SHINE
BY WILL THIS NIGHT
AND NEVER SHINE
THIS NIGHT!
BLACK NIGHT
STAR BRIGHT
WHICH AM I
TO BE TONIGHT?
THEN I DO WISH
AND I DO MIGHT
BE THAT BLACK
I SEE TONIGHT!
NOW, DO I SHINE
THIS NIGHT!
SO WHAT YOU WILL
YOU BE TONIGHT
NAY SHALL IT COME
TO PASS TONIGHT!
THEN FALL YOU FOOL
INTO THY BLACK
THEN SHALL
THY LIGHT
BID THEE BRIGHT!
Stanley Alari
1990 |
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Category : The mystery of being
| Posted By : Stanley | Comments[123] | Trackbacks [0] |
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| 24 Feb 2007 01:22:09 pm |
| Its Passing |
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Its all just passing
From the moment I got here
Its been passing
How can I really focus
on its passing?
How can I really get it
as its passing?
I'm so busy
so interrupted
I miss it as its passing
Here I'm 73 now
and its still passing
I'm still not getting it
very much
as its passing
But there are moments
When I get it as its passing
And my breath draws deep
as I'm part of its passing
I know every day
every moment
its passing
Help me get it
as its passing
Allow me to be awake
more, as its passing
so I can be..the passing
Otherwise I will
have nothing but my experience
but dead in the end
not able to remember
my experiences..
But as I'm in the passing
that is mine now
all those breaths I drew
all that wonder in my bones
all that sweet living in the passing
As I was in the passing.
I would spend my legacy here
now with moments of passing
when my spending was my passing
Death no door to moments of passing
Nothing to regret
Nothing to forget
Nothing to remember
But my living in the passing
As I was the passing as it was passing. |
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Category : The mystery of being
| Posted By : Stanley | Comments[388] | Trackbacks [0] |
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| 18 Sep 2006 05:57:42 am |
| More Mystery |
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The shifting face of the ocean of being
inside us..
It shifts and changes all day long
every day of our lives
At night the ocean dreams
and in the morning
lets us forget the night shift
we wake and have forgot
the ocean of being
as it lived as we slept..
Sometimes we are aware of the fullness
of something..some fullness inside..
Sometimes we know it as a fullness of joy.
at our child..at our mother..
Full up of some richness...we call love
Sometimes we are full of a sense of rage
a powerful storm of darkness smashing everything
inside and outside of us..its huge..Awesome..dangerous
We break what we love, what we liked,
and what we found joy in..
In the moments before..
The sudden darkening of our world
and some outrage without a bare name.
no name, but breaking every name..
lashing out in in wild swings of worrds..of belts..of
swinging fists of words.
Alligator man biting everything..
And then, we see the carnage wrought
the tears and fears we left
in the rage of it..
And on their faces perplexities and horror
at the darkness seen on our face just
moments before..on our grotesque face..our face.
The face of the ocean of being inside us
it talks...its ever changing
creations kalidiascope...thats what we are
if you want to know..
thats what we are..
A funnel through which creation
takes its shapes and rips its tides
rattling our cages...trembling us with
love, hate, wonder, wanting, dreaming, worrying, full of doing,
being, that is doing...and changing our faces as it
changes everything,
confusing us, maddening us, wondering us, blinding us
and binding us to its seasons...mortals, fools, toy things
to smash and be smashed, to kiss and be kissed, to be, in a word
Created! Destroyed! and so very, very alive!!
Who am I...the I is creation itself calling out "I am!"
Some given name..what a beautiful stunnning dream that I am
the name I..
Just as well call that breath of wind you see...I!
Feel it on your face..call it I as well
for that is what we are..
a breath moving and calling what it does living..thinking, feeling!
Its but a breath of it...a breath of the ocean of being....a wave..
a wavelet...a bubble of it as it sweeps back into the sea of itself...
we are all at and in the sea of it.
calling our little part of it a separate name..
the home of the ocean of being
always home in it...of it.
The great soul of it...In silence I am the sould of it
Full then...no words...full..it is beyond good and bad,
the names we call out and use when
we are asleep in the world of words and wants and fears
When the ocean of soul..the ocean of being is forgotten
as we are being tossed about in it..
Where am I....what is this...who are you...
what is that...drunken in language....asleep..
oh loss of soul oh loss of stillness in the ocean of being.
loss of wakefullness of the ocean of being..my home. |
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Category : The mystery of being
| Posted By : Stanley | Comments[357] | Trackbacks [0] |
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