Anne poem : the emptiness project #12

Anne Frank

“How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.” Anne Frank

Anne

The warm ovens that say crematoria
are someone you once loved–
in the lines, in the worn-out ovens

The concrete floor of the room
becomes you, a mirror
staring back at the memory
of windows and dead leaves

Falling outside your window
are dead leaves, so many colors
and you once knew all of them

Before the time of your time,
which is to say: your time.

(“The Holocaust was the World War II genocide of the European Jews. Between 1941 and 1945, across German-occupied Europe, Nazi Germany and its collaborators systematically murdered some six million Jews, around two-thirds of Europe’s Jewish population.” Wikipedia) 

AWOL poem : the emptiness project # 11

Lidice massacre memorial

“What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or in the holy name of liberty or democracy?”― Mahatma Gandhi

AWOL

Afterwards, you weren’t home
The war was over
We stood on your front porch
Knocking

The windows
were broken
and in my heart
a small boy
broke all the windows
but you didn’t care

It was only
the start
of somebody’s
picnic

We waited for an hour
Then we turned around
& started killing

On the hill
On the hill

On the beautiful hill

We ran
and when somebody said
“I love you”
we all of us
laughed
like hyenas
& started killing

Laughing
like hyenas.

“The Lidice massacre was the complete destruction of the village of Lidice in June, 1942 on orders from Adolf Hitler and Reichsführer-SS Heinrich Himmler.” Wikipedia

Photo: Ashley Pomeroy, Sculpture by Marie Uchytilova

Awake & Sing

Picasso- The Tragedy

“The only crime equaling inhumanity is the crime of indifference, silence, and forgetting.” James Orbinski

Minamata

In a tiny room,
in the Hiroshima dance hall,
an old man
sings Kaddish

A universal dream machine
tells you not to go home:
There are too many scars
on her body

The number you have forgotten
is inside your black book

Holes in the sky
The brown earth
Digging a hole in the sky
Welts on your skin

My hands are burning
as I dip them
into the river of you

Take my hand,
little one
Bathe in the river

Are you digging?
We are digging a hole
for our god you
We lay the bodies there
one at a time

We had a memory
You were there
You held my hand
I carried you to the river

The smell of you
on my body

Please help me to understand
I have come from a far place
My eyes are cold
There are lesions on my body

There are lesions on your body

You are being forgiven
for being far away

I sing you in the river

(“Minamata, Japan is known worldwide due to Minamata disease, a neurological disorder caused by mercury poisoning. The disease was discovered in 1956. A local chemical plant was blamed for causing the disease by emitting untreated wastewater to the Minamata Bay.” — Wikipedia)

Empty the Mind, Fill the Belly

 

  • It always starts with inhibiting conceptualization (arising thoughts) in order to experience the underlying, previously unconscious sensations generating those thoughts
  • It’s as if the thoughts are the symptoms (discharge mechanisms) of the unconscious sensations, as if the sensations want to be expressed
  • The thoughts are attempts by the sensations to reach consciousness
  • To expand the parameters of experience
  • Until there is no separation between thoughts & sensations
  • We’ll call this “insight”: in which thoughts are woven through sensations & sensations are woven through thoughts
  • We’ll call this “the birth of the self”
  • We’ll call this “liberation from self-estrangement”
  • We’ll call this “unarmored aliveness”
  • And the price of admission is consciously experienced primal suffering
  • Because the sensations are unconscious for a reason
  • They originally caused pain
  • So the price of admission is opening to the pain
  • That’s the crucifixion
  • That’s the path
  • That’s the yoga of the self process
  • And it always starts with inhibiting arising thoughts
  • And experiencing the underlying sensations
  • Empty the mind, fill the belly

    Picasso: The Old Guitarist

Visiting Day

PicassoChild

Child with a Dove

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When  we walk inside the broken place
Your hair, your eyes, the broken way you smile

The broken door that hurt your hand
Your fingers broken, one memory at a time

When we walk inside the broken place
A ghost of skin and broken strands of hair

Your mouth a broken O
Your dreams bereft of skin

We call your name
It echoes

Our mouth forms O
Our mouth says U

Your hair, your eyes, the broken way you smile
All come into view

Labor Pains

“Mama take this badge off of me
I can’t use it anymore
It’s getting dark, too dark for me to see
I feel like I’m knockin’ on heaven’s door…”

Bob Dylan

Kali Birth

Meditation Koan

The emergent self
releases the sacrum-sphincter,
releases the heart-mouth,
releases the eyes,
empties the mind of I-thoughts,
experiences sounds,
tolerates the arising
of the original infant self’s
unbearable sensations
released into consciousness
as identity becomes unnecessary
at which point the Self
is born


Butoh heart

A broken heart is an awakened heart.”

Emptiness 101

EmptinessWoods

  • “reality” = emptiness (experience stripped of language, conceptualization, ideation, identity)
  • living from, writing from, acting from, “reality” = using language-as-“music” (sound) after unarmored experience (sensation)
  • emptiness = language stripped of dissociation
  • emptiness = experience stripped of preconceptions (dissociation)
  • if dissociation (flight from reality) is “built” from originally (infant) unbearable sensation (“pain”, “suffering”), emptiness (reality) is “built” from consciously experienced (integrated) original (infant) “pain,” “suffering” “impermanence” “terror of annihilation”
  • emptiness is the absence of dissociation
  • emptiness is language stripped of dissociative metaphor
  • emptiness is the language of the original (infant) experiencing self after having undergone neurological & psychological maturation (that is, having developed the capacity to experience all sensation without the need for dissociation as defense against the terror of annihilation)
  • emptiness replaces dissociation with impermanence (formlessness)
  • in which the ground of being prior to form is impermanence
  • in which impermanence is the death of the self-as-identity
  • and the birth of the Self-as-emptiness
  • emptiness reveals the Self (unarmored consciousness, awareness) to its dissociative configuration, identity

Knowledge

SufiMystic

Reality

In love, nothing exists between heart and heart.
Speech is born out of longing,
True description from the real taste.
The one who tastes, knows;
the one who explains, lies.
How can you describe the true form of Something
In whose presence you are blotted out?
And in whose being you still exist?
And who lives as a sign for your journey?

Rabia Al Basri


SunMyth

Reality

In the Self, nothing exists between heart & heart

Language is born out of unbearable suffering,

True description from the real taste of suffering.

The one who integrates pre-language suffering, knows;

The one who dissociates, lies.

How can you describe the true experience of Something

In whose presence identity is blotted out?

And in whose being the Self arises?

And who lives as a sign that the Self is born?

–RM

—————————————————————————–

Becoming

“…truth is a pathless land…”
Jiddu Krishnamurti

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

A Philosophy of Becoming: Part 1

Fragments of early childhood memory
continuously emerge as sensations
and attempt an integration

If we open to the “chaos”
of these emergent sensations
we can integrate them
and shed our identity

Our identity is the armor
that developed in early childhood
to ward off intolerable sensations

Identity protected us
from the overwhelming, unbearable chaos,
the fractures and torments
of painful childhood sensations

In order to give birth to ourselves,
in order to integrate at the level of Self,
we must directly experience and “hold”
the chaos, fractures and torments
of childhood sensations
without dissociation and without repression,
that is, with consciousness

Consciousness is not I
Consciousness does not identify with itself
as a thing called I

Consciousness is a process,
the direct unarmored experience of sensation
without the blinders of identity

Consciousness is a hologram
continuously changing shape
like water or sound

Consciousness seems to exist as an entity
yet is constantly in motion,
in change, in process

Consciousness is always in a state of Becoming

Consciousness has as its intention
the direct, unarmored experience
of the world

When our consciousness begins
to directly experience
unarmored childhood sensation
we no longer have a need
for identity, for “I”

When consciousness experiences childhood sensation
without armor, without identity,
the original sensations of childhood
that were too painful, too overwhelming,
can now be integrated

Tolerating the discomfort
of the original childhood sensations
as they arise each day
leads to the expansion of consciousness,
eliminates the need for identity,
and initiates the birth process
of the Self

In The Beginning Was The Word

“War can kill victims but it cannot kill memory of survivors.”
Hak Kim: “Alive”

Guernica Child
The worms of death
pickled with incongruous silence
founded a nation of drones
dropping their bombs
in the middle of cities

The children who sing
with the language of concrete
bodies draped across enemies

Withered stalks of skin
adhere to lost continents,
limbs cry out for lonely trains
on platforms
where we used to live
singing love songs
of inscrutable hindsight

The sound of grandma
in her 1 bedroom apartment
on Kossuth Avenue,
three windows looking down
on pavements of children
limping across apocalyptic memory

A hospital memory before time,
its thumping heart sounds,
its broken windows,
its eyes of dogs shining
with incandescent radiation

An extremity of thought
along a hallway corridor
in a hospital wing
with glazed windows
filtering the late morning light
as it yellows across the plastic floor

Prior to the loss of time,
prior to the frozen-faced
armor that cloaks memory,
prior to sensation as hopeless rage

Beneath a frozen shell called “armor”
devising its own inhibitions,
dictating strategies for evading reality,
is the birth