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Awakening to simplicity

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The following poem was written in March '92, a year after Kundalini blew me

open and I was revising my understanding of spirituality:

 

HERE NOW

by El Collie

 

The ordinary things were never ordinary at all.

They were merely disguised,

dressed up like bums

and held up for us to ridicule

and ignore.

The ordinary things --

a sip of water, a beam of sunlight,

the brush of a hand, a laughing child --

were made into trivia while we were taught

to hate our lives.

The ordinary things were neglected, shunned, mocked

while we went searching madly for something that mattered.

The ordinary things were labeled obstacles

to be overcome

in our race to collect unspecified treasure

at the legendary rainbow's end.

The ordinary things --

a soft night's sleep,

a feather in the grass,

talking to each other --

were denounced as nothing special.

But the ordinary things were never ordinary at all.

We were mislead

as we blindly pushed aside everything holy

believing all the while

that we were making way for miracles.

 

.....................................

 

This second one may be a bit off topic (I'll leave it to Maureen to decide).

I awoke this morning at around 4:00 a.m. to a whole lot of shakin' and this

time it wasn't Kundalini/me. We had a 4.1 tremblor on the Hayward faultline.

So it seemed like a good time to post the following tribute I wrote in 1976 to

the San Andreas faultline. I know we have a few California members on the

list who may relate...

 

 

QUAKE WAIT

by El Collie

 

San Andreas!

I sing to you,

subterranean synapse,

eye of the orgasm,

guardian of all things unexpected.

 

Yes, you,

Andreas,

ponderous persuasion

like a turnstile over the trapdoor

to total satori.

 

I sing the ancient cobra,

echo of gnashing teeth, trembling whales,

volcanic heartbeat!

This is an ode to the patron

of divine concussion and sudden conclusion...

 

An uneasy world twists on the wrack

while you, somnambulant Andreas,

bide your royal time.

I sing to you,

still silent in your restless sleep,

your tense dreams wrapped in cobwebs.

 

San Andreas I sing

your precarious secret:

Oh, Andreas, yours is the power

to turn us all into children.

Andreas!

Ashes!

All fall down.

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>CKRESS

>

>The following poem was written in March '92, a year after Kundalini blew me

>open and I was revising my understanding of spirituality:

>

>HERE NOW

>by El Collie

>

 

Great poem El, loved it's simplistic truth. A very true statement indeed.

 

Flow

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