oetry

Women Alone

Even those with mates alive stand alone.

Alone with books, with shopping, with children,

with memories.

They stand with eyes full of the past,

with thoughts weighing the future.

There is power there, even in those feeling frail

or powerless.

It is a power to stand apart, to be a

separate entity even in crowds.

To have eyes that draw in,

Auras that vibrate intensity.

Women alone -- sleeping.

Women alone -- thinking.

Women alone -- alone.

---- ©Angel, 1988

Frustration City just ahead.

Pay two bucks to get off,

a dime to ride forever.

Brick walls are to hit your head against.

The gravel there is to cut your feet.

You can rage against unfulfillment

but no energy comes from trying.

Smiling flowers will not greet your efforts.

You’ll only have more garbage to carry.

Turn on the light full in your sad face.

The emptiness there is overflowing.

Keep on giving elsewhere and everything at home dies.

Wanting too much turns to acid.

It eats away the enamel of good times.

Welcome to Frustration City--

Jobs for all who want to pay the price.

----© Angel, 1991

I say "good self" (patting myself on the back), then blush.

No question--you must use your broken diamond.

Stop and remember why we cry over change.

Ask for a thousand kisses.

© Angel, October 1999

© Angel, September 2000

Once when our blacktop city

was still a topsoil town

we carried to Formicopolis

a cantaloupe rind to share

and stooped to plop it down

in their populous Times Square

at the subway of the ants

and saw that hemisphere

blacken and rise and dance

with antmen out of hand

wild for their melon toddies

just like our world next year

no place to step or stand

except on bodies.

-----Virginia Hamilton Adair, Ants on the Melon

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This is my father.

See? He is young.

He looks like Errol Flynn.

He is wearing a hat that tips over one eye,

a suit that fits him good,

and baggy pants.

He is also wearing

those awful shoes,

the two-toned ones

my mother hates.

Here is my mother.

She is not crying.

She cannot look into the lens

because the sun is bright.

The woman,

the one my father knows,

is not here.

She does not come till later.

My mother will get very mad.

Her face will turn red and she will throw one shoe.

My father will say nothing.

After a while everyone will forget it.

Years and years will pass.

My mother will stop mentioning it.

This is me she is carrying.

I am a baby.

She does now know

I will turn out bad.

-----Sandra Cisneros, My Wicked Wicked Ways

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An anthology of Sacred Poetry

The Mind of Absolute Trust

The great way isn't difficult for those who are unattached to their preferences.

Let go of longing and aversion,and everything will be perfectly clear.

.....

Don't get entagled in the world; don't lose yourself in emptiness.

Be at peace in the oneness of things, and all errors will disappear by themselves.

.....

The more you think about these matters, the farther you are from the truth. Step aside from all thinking, and there is nowhere you can't go.

.....

Don't keep searching for truth; just let go of your opinions.

.....

The Mind of absolute trust is beyond all thought, all striving, is perfectly at peace,

for in it there is no yesterday, no today,

no tomorrow.

Seng-Ts'an, 7th century

 

 

Inside this clay jar there are meadows and groves and the One who made them.

Inside this jar there are seven oceans and innumerable stars, acid to test gold, and a patient appraiser of jewels.

Inside this jar the music of eternity, and a spring flows from the source of all waters.

Kabir says: Listen, friend! My beloved Master lives inside.

Kabir, 15th Century

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