Monthly Archives: December 2001

CHARTRES CATHEDRAL MAY 9, 2001

CHARTRES CATHEDRAL MAY 9, 2001

Standing at last
in medieval thought made visible
one hundred and seventy three of the most
beautiful stained glass windows in the world
ten thousand figures in glass and stone

Feeling the light and form form feelings

Dorsey and I drift apart
pulled for a moment by different magnets

I look up I have no words
I beckon her over she crosses the rough stone

I kiss her gently hold her a moment and
point to the small center window
high in the west side of the south wing

Where light breaking through cloud
throws fractured beams
through centuried dust
in an exact way and at an exact angle
that it has never slanted before
and will never slant again

We wander in awe
together and apart
light candles, marvel at the art

Famous labyrinth where penitents
crawled three football fields on their knees
Without knowing it had once been there
I miss the Minotaur in the middle

As evening falls I sit on a stone step
by the central altar
watching
for a long time the sun as it sinks
rising in the West Rose Window

From the center
each ring moving outward
moves towards me in explosion 3D

Again I have no words

The words are

From the unquestionable hand
of the undeniable God
a universe flung forth
in crystal cacophony
and order

THE BELLS OF LE CROTOY

THE BELLS OF LE CROTOY

In the little village by the Baie
bells still wake you every day

And since not all the churches agree
we wait while each has its pretty say
then snuggle back for a little nap
because a bell is just a bell
and we’re on holiday

If we had really listened
we might have have heard them say

We are the bells Jeanne d’Arc heard
breaking over walls of prison stone
the morning of her walk to Rouen
and then never heard again

We are the bells Jules Verne heard
rattling rough shuttered windows
get up lazy writer and grasp that pen
you have leagues to write ‘fore you rest again

We are the bells that the fishermen heard
on the mornings behind their names
on the monument to men lost at sea
heard last before going to sea

GREECE 2001

GREECE 2001

We take the boat back to Athens
cold and windy and a little rough

Dorsey lies down on the way

If she is Helen returned
she might again cause the launching
of a thousand ships
but she would not sail on one

I have an ouzo and man the bow
swells rising through my feet
feeling the eternity of the sea

When the islands are out of site
I still feel and could steer
by the shape of the winds

9-11 Dreams

In the dream
I look up from my desk
into the smile on the madman’s face
in that long eternal moment
before he wrecks the plane

In the dream
I am old and frail on a mis stepped step and
I am the young and strong who catch my eye
as pushed and pushing they pass me by
and will live with it till they wake or die

In the dream
I am the man in uniform
climbing endless stairs against a human sea
only to find them endlessly
folding in on me

In the dream
I am the woman in the chair
that two men carried down the stair
gripping the wheels as I hear them say
the lady is still standing in the bay

ELBOW ROOM RAP

ELBOW ROOM RAP

Poems know where they come from

My poems grew up in the wide open spaces
soft rolling hills and prairie lakes

You can lay a word down here in places
that no one would step on in ten years

My poems mostly come on gentle
and soft and safe like that

But
when my poems
come to the big cities
and the buildings start leanin in on them
(and now fallin in)
and the air gets thick with cars and people
my poems, I say my poems, start to panic

They start to talk
in short / hard / words
they flail around in all directions
they want to be rap poems
they want to be jackhammers
they want to be machine guns
they want to be big horns

They want to aim their decibels
at all those Jericho walls
and they want them down
they want them down
right now

THEY SAY
Gimme some space
get outta my face

THEY SAY
gimme some space
get outta my face

THEY SAY
I need my place
gotta have someplace
I need my space
gotta have some space

THEY SAY
You can’t see me
gotta turn it up

THEY SAY
you can’t hear me
gotta turn it up

MY POEMS SAY

HELP!

THOUGHTS TO PONDER

THOUGHTS TO PONDER – a story from the internet

An old Native American grandfather was talking to his grandson about how he felt about the tragedy (9-11) and what should be done.

He said “I have two wolves fighting in my heart. One wolf is the vengeful, angry, violent one. The other wolf is the loving compassionate one.”

“So,” asked the grandson, “which wolf will win the fight in your heart?”

“The one that I feed,” answered the grandfather

PROLOGUE TO 2001 GOD BLESS THE WORLD

PROLOGUE

November 22, 2001
U.S. Thanksgiving – Houston, Texas

Having decided to fast instead of gorge, and looking back in gratitude and awe at the last year, I have decided to prepare for you a small meal of impressions

Dorsey, ever a source of inspiration and joy, is tapping out changes to a new manual in the next room. Feel good to know that her gifts are for others as well as myself.

Probably go to Galveston Beach tomorrow, where she walked on September tenth.
Profoundly, and as it turns out, prophetically touched by a feeling of the end of summer and an end of innocence

I was in Canada at the time and remained T.V. free; A week helping my brother re-floor his cabin at Candle Lake in Saskatchewan, and then joining some wonderful old friends and new for Canadian Thanksgiving at an Alberta Rocky Mountain retreat.

Can’t help but think that we are indeed in ‘speed up’ and on the teetering edge of something profound here. I still remember a Tibetan, Rimpoche, at Esalen teaching us about having compassion for all beings in the universe. The problem, he said, was that we had no idea how to do that, or where to start. He suggested that we should sit in silence and think of one person whose pain would be as our own. A child, parent, lover, or whoever. To really feel that pain, and to then add people one at a time as long as we could maintain that feeling. When we were unable to do this we should stop, and try again later. We have up to now been unable to get our heads and hearts around the thousands of deaths from war and natural disasters around the world. September the 11th cracked that open to a point where 6,000 people got into our hearts at one time. There is evidence that this is spreading to our concern for the citizens of Afghanistan and other parts of the world. I pray that it is true.

Part of the ‘speed up’ is in the learning curve. In the last year we have been in five Canadian Provinces, and sixteen U.S. States (seven of them new to me), as well as Holland, Greece and France. Learning lots, and passing some of it along at workshops and readings.

Want to express deep gratitude to two of our principal teachers, Drs. Hal and Sidra Stone, originators of the Psychology of the Selves , or Voice Dialogue work. The timeliness of their vision of how each of us as persons, as well as all nations contain a multitude of selves, covering the whole spectrum from saint to terrorist; some owned, and some disowned, and how different our choices and actions can be when we embrace all of them, hold the tension of the opposites and act from a place of awareness.

On the following page is a story off of the internet that I would like to share

Would also like to say that I remain excited and hopeful that maybe the world is indeed unfolding as it should, and that in any case I do not really have enough information to be a pessimist.

Love and happy thanksgiving to all,

Neil