2 poems from A Stranger's Heart
A Stranger's Heart Nobody makes a mistake on purpose. Unless the purpose is to make it, And then it’s not a mistake at all But an experiment into what might Happen if we tried this or that So we might learn or feel something We didn’t know before we tried it. We’re all in the mistake-making business, And the risk to life and limb is what We’re willing to live to be ourselves, Like deciding to trust a stranger’s heart, Like reaching through the wrought iron To pet the Great Dane who lives loud Down the block and sometimes comes Over to me as I walk home from work Telling him he’s a good boy as I put My hand on this head risking nothing Like a mistake I’d ever regret making. Accommodations Permanence Did you know the word “normal” Comes from a carpenter’s square Which is an artificial depiction Of the imagined concept we use To apply a theory of angles upon Landscapes, materials, and people We want to own and command? So, when I get a series of emails About student accommodations, And a paper from a woman who Volunteers her ADHD as reason For her lousy object permanence And time management abilities, I think, this isn’t any “New Normal.” There’s nothing to square this with, Except the oldest curriculum we have— The ready heart and the open mind.
2 poems from Texas Observer
Parade When everyone has a rope To hold and balance our big Country high above our heads, We walk together like nothing is In our hands or above us at all. But if we have to march because There is no rope for us to hold (See it now starting to float away, Small in the sky) what do we take In our hands to bring it back down? Fever Where would you like to sit As you watch the world come to an end? You remember the fragrant infant halo Of your daughter’s hair and also how Helpless you felt at her fever and red Tears as you pressed the cool cloth to Her head and arms and phoned the doctor And waited on hold—your broken pleas. We have called our Earth our mother So long we’ve forgotten she’s our baby, too.
from Inside Higher Ed
Allegiance
When I start class with a period
Of sitting meditation and quiet,
I often ask my students to put
A hand over their hearts
So they can feel their chests
Rising and falling with breath,
Their bodies beginning to slow
So their minds know where to go.
And with eyes closed, I go back
To my 3rd grade classroom
With the other boys and girls,
All standing, hands on hearts,
Behind our teacher at her desk,
With liberty and justice for all,
Words we wear out like the knees
In our jeans, the tips of shoelaces,
Braids undone, chewing gum—
Our teacher, too, tattered a bit,
Class after class of us smart-alecks
And do-gooders and scaredy-cats,
Not so different from those here
Who sit with me and pledge
Allegiance to the hearts we got.
from Local Bird - Poems
Discussion
Today the books
On your shelves
Were having a talk
About why they were
Still lined up there
Gathering dust
No complaints at all
Just wondering when
You would return
To select one to pull
And slowly slide out
Smooth your palm over
Its shining cover
And release again
The pages pressed
Hard upon one another
Or if you would hand
It over to someone
You thought should
Meet the people
You met and became
After spreading wide
And hearing the binding
Creak a bit with joy
As you reached in
And lifted yourself out.
Companions
In the darkest night
When the students
Had reached the door
They said, Master,
Please have mercy
Upon us and tell us
Why we are unable
To find the way we seek.
And I said to them,
I am not your Master.
And the students
Looked downtrodden
Confused and some
Angry at the distance
And time they wasted
Coming to my door.
And I said to them
Listen very carefully
So that you can know
Tonight what I know.
The way is not long
To travel like stories
Tell us in the heavy
Books we’ve studied
Or difficult to climb
Like the hard journey
You’ve taken in coming
To my door in darkness.
I can see your desire
For suffering that will
Be rewarded with truth
But nothing is here
Except what you can
Witness for yourself.
Please do not risk
Your life any longer
Trying to find a path
Through misery
But turn to help your
Companions on the road
And see how short
The way has become.
from The Bluebonnet Sutras - Buddhist dialogues
Canoe Sutra
for Andrew Geyer
The Buddha told me that since I had
So many questions, it would be best
If I took a turn in the front of the canoe.
For a good part of our morning together,
The water was exceedingly calm and wide,
So I asked him how he lived on the other
Side of his enlightenment, wondering
What more there was to learn after
Attaining such exalted consciousness.
He said that our minds have a thirst
Larger than any river we paddle down,
“When Milton began to lose the light
And Beethoven saw silence coming from
The strings, they found a way to hear
Without hearing and to see without sight.”
Weeping Sutra
On the fifth day
Of the meditation retreat,
And only the second day
Of Vipassana training,
I found myself weeping
How much I missed my teachers.
“A thirst for learning
Brings tears of insight,”
The Buddha told me.
“Now think of those
Who never find these tears,
Who never benefit from
The loving-kindness of teachers,
Who never learn the path
Out of their suffering.
Let us weep for them together.
May they hear and find us.”
from Voices de la Luna
Yoga Teacher
Vrksasana says,
An open door
Stands on one leg.
Tadasana says,
The mirror doesn’t
See what it reflects.
Adho Mukha Shvanasana says,
I apologize to the sky
For putting my rear up there.
Balasana says,
I’ll save you a place tomorrow
Just like I did today.
from One Kind of Recording - Aphorisms
Love has
two oars:
forgiveness
and forgiveness.
Depth of thinking
means nothing
if the heart
gets drowned.
Today’s review
of yesterday
will be on
tomorrow’s test.
Democracy is
a fragile enemy
of wealth
and power.