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| 27 May 2009 01:52:52 am |
 The Casting Net |
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The Casting Net
I cannot see that the fish
Returned to my casting net..
Came to my casting Call..
When again, I cast my dark net
A weave of doubt...of pain..of loss
Of Blame...
And I wonder...why..came these fish
Calling to my table?
The Mind, a shadow empire
dry, parched..full of fear..
Waiting for the Light
That by my Child's Faith..
Remembered..
Who could know..
That by my Child's LIght..
I could live the world..
I dreamed of...
Who could tell us..
But our willful Self..
It's bitter fruit..
Reaped by bitter seeds..
Cast into the Minutes..
Of our Days...our Nights.
Then, now..Child within..
Teach me...reveal to me..
Wonder and Kindness Plenty
To My Starving Heart..
Let, then, my Tears heal my Lessons.
Pray, let blame rest awhile..
In the House that Grace..
Has filled with Forgiveness...
I know, at Last..I cannot forgive..
I don't know how...
Show me Lord..
Please..show me..
For I am tired...
And twisted by Knowing..
By Defending...In this house
I built of Will..of Fault..of Blame..
I have shut friends out..
With my Righteous...I am Right...
Everyone I banished...some part of me..
Lost...Lost...For with them..
My faith...my Trushing
Child's Heart..
I, too ...banished..
Till, Rememberance
Brought Me Home...
Water, Then my Remaining Days..
A new garden..with my plentiful tears
Never shed...for thee..and me...
For thee...and Me...
By its bounty...I shall eat..and sup
And share my Cup with Thee..
For none other..can enter..
Without..the Other..
Let, then me burn with New Lights..
Show me the way..Remembering Knows..
And I forgot...
I shall Sing..everywhere..
While..yet I can..
And, when I do not..
Pray for me...and Thee
That my Child's Faith.
Returns...and Soon...
And, Soon....
S. Alari
April 3, 2002 |
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Category : The joke of control
| By : Stanley |  Comments [139] |  Trackbacks [0] |
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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
| By : Stanley | Comments [166] | Trackbacks [0] |
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| 27 May 2009 01:32:16 am |
| To My Valentine, Franchesca |
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To My Valentine, Franchesca
I am Newton..
An apple has fallen
On My Head..
And, Love Has Come,
Like Gravity..
Only Now...
Do I Have
A Heart..
You Are..
The Apple..
And I,
Have Discovered
I have a Heart..
Constant as Gravity..
For Now
When The Apple Falls..
It Breaks
This Heart..
I Never Knew
I Had..
Until YOU...
Fell
For Me...
Your Giancarlo..Forever..
S. alari
September 1991 |
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Category : Love
| By : Stanley | Comments [174] | Trackbacks [0] |
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| 27 May 2009 01:27:21 am |
| Whence Cometh Joy? |
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Whence Cometh Joy?
Whence cometh joy?
I asked my Mind..
The answer came silently..
Whispering Softly..
Why, Stanley..you ask secrets
To reveal it's river and it's place..
Oh, No, Dear Stanley
It's not for you to know..
Simply drink it's nectar
When it'sflowers do appear..
And open..for you
To sip a cup..
This truth..it's mystery..
I do not know..
And no longer seek seek its source
(with forgetfullness now and then)
This is plenty..and more...
Than I could wish for!...
S. Alari |
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Category : On the promise of life
| By : Stanley | Comments [155] | Trackbacks [0] |
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| 27 May 2009 01:21:18 am |
| Lost In The Dream |
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Lost In The Dream
We are watching, if we are awake
That little wood chip of our wakefullness,
May, when awake, notice the flow of the tide
Of this, our experience..
Or, whatever this is...
There is an inner sea, so strong a tide..
There is no notion of resistance, or awareness, or choice..
Thanks is a jest, however, we can, at times,
Observe this Devine Human Tide and ourselves,
Being carried along...
It's about having little oars
To steer some of the course of the dialogue,
The living, emotioined script,
That ever flows through us..
The Devine Comedy, indeed!
The Will (the capitalized form is evidence
Of "Our" naming It..."I".)
That the Will is nothing but an occassional
Fragment of consciousness,
In the Sea of daily events..
If we experience ourselves as marooned,
As castaways, in this "Whatever It is",
We are mistaken.
We Are That..
Wow..Funny..Tragic...
Never ending events...till it It Is..
Projected...through...Us...
S.Alari
November 2000 |
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Category : Existence
| By : Stanley | Comments [142] | Trackbacks [0] |
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