breakfast conversation

 God is

What is

Coming to be

Emerging. And

Beyonding. Evolving

And transcending

What is now and

Has been, as it is

Becoming 

What it

Is

To be 

Not 

Yet

Here

if belief it is then practice it is

 In hospital she

said “God” — walking side by side

Hallways home, meeting

One another as man sits 

in wheelchair fitting puzzle

equinox

 Comes autumn cool air

Goes summer after midnight

Turning earth — (mere) words

we are given to this

Before poetry there was the gaze. We watched. We listened. 

When we uttered a sound we wanted to be heard, or else we kept silent. We uttered sounds and words so as to convey a part of our understanding into communication that connected intent and meaning from one to another within the context of our nearness and the desire to be-with or think-with another.

The deepening and conveyance of understanding, the exploration and articulation of thinking/feeling, is the origin and continuation of philosophy and poetry.

Before philosophy, there was poetry. Not all poetry is philosophical, of course. But philosophical ideas often appear in poetry. To find a philosophical statement in a poem, or in any kind of narrative literary art, one may need to sort through the deliciously murky waters of metaphor and emotive expression. And it isn’t likely that one will find arguments, counterarguments, and analysis of concepts, as one could expect in a normal philosophical text. Nonetheless, you do often find strongly-expressed propositions, and those propositions can prompt philosophical thinking and discussion. It is probably in poetry that people first expressed their philosophical thoughts in words, and shared them with others.

Excerpt from: "The Earth, The Gods and The Soul - A History of Pagan Philosophy: From the Iron Age to the 21st Century" by Brendan Myers. Scribd.

We are makers. And we want what we make to have use and be useful. Prior to this usefulness, first and foremost, is the urgency to be that inspires us to become what we are coming to be, to make something of nothing, to put together what longs for a manifestation of itself.

Poetry, a term derived from the Greek word poiesis, "making"), also called verse,^{[note 1]} is a form of literature that uses aesthetic and often rhythmic^[1][2][3]qualities of language − such as phonaesthetics, sound symbolism, and metre − to evoke meanings in addition to, or in place of, a prosaic ostensible meaning. A poem is a literary composition, written by a poet, using this principle.  Wikipedia

 We put together. We compose. We present before ourselves and to others what has arisen or emerged from awareness of place or person or event so as to realize what is there and what is coming to be.

composition (n.)

late 14c., composicioun, "action of combining," also "manner in which a thing is composed," from Old French composicion (13c., Modern French composition) "composition, make-up, literary work, agreement, settlement," and directly from Latin compositionem (nominative compositio) "a putting together, connecting, arranging," noun of action from past participle stem of componere "to put together, to collect a whole from several parts," from com "with, together" (see com-) + ponere "to place" (past participle positus; see position (n.)). 

 https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=componere

Both philosophy and poetry are invited by, and invite us to be, anthropos. 

άνθρωπος • (ánthropos) m (plural άνθρωποι) Greek

1. a human; person; the species man; (in the plural) people                
2.  cf.  https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/ἄνθρωπος#Ancient_Greek

The prospect of becoming human, of being human, is the sound of our coming to word through silence in the presence of this moving manifest cosmos and, of course, one another.

We are given to this.

Ours is to:

Blend and comprehend  

what scattered  

aches for wholeness

one with no title, no shape, as if they knew

                    (after Wallace Stevens)

 a zen hermit -- where, 

who -- don't ask -- the temptation

to say something -- don't   

do you believe in magic

 watching House debate

and voting for a budget

I did not see much

don't look for justice, speak it

The question is: Where is the law of God?

So many inquiries. Up there? Beyond the beyond? In written precepts and scriptures? In the will and direction of elders, ministers, clergy, rabbis, imams, ordained anybodies?

So many places to look. 

Introitus

Os justi meditбbitur sapiéntiam,

    The mouth of the just one will express wisdom,

et lingua ejus loquétur judнcium:

    and his tongue will speak judgment.

lex Dei ejus in corde ipsíus.

    The law of his God is in his heart.

Noli aemulбri in malignántibus:

    Do not choose to imitate the malicious;

neque zeláveris faciéntes iniquitátem.

    neither should you envy those who work iniquity.

Os justi meditábitur sapiéntiam,

    The mouth of the just one will express wisdom,

et lingua ejus loquétur judícium:

    and his tongue will speak judgment [i.e. justice]:

lex Dei ejus in corde ipsíus.

    The law of his God is in his heart. 

(Feast of Matthew)

In his heart. In her heart. In their hearts.

In your heart.

In my heart.

Begin looking there. 

hospice watch for grand trees

 old large trees, neighbor

takes them down -- weary, limb broke

all their years, merci  

when still, everything is itself

Cape Breton rower

wind vane yellow green back on

spindle after storm 

at rest this September morn-

ing one day left in summer

more than meets the eye

Finish building bridge

over brook by pet graveyard

Dry paws up mountain

Of course my life is failure

Galaxies hang over yard

judiciary committee circling three rings

 lawmakers on right

side of tent -- conceptual

clown show makeup -- they

do not care about the law

just blah blah blah -- send money

the brazen subterfuge and dactylic spondee of her sounding mask

                     (A no-ode for T.L.)

A friend says she’s not writing poems these days. I do not believe her. Look what she says:

I’m not

Writing poems

These days

Clearly a poem. She indicates that she is not. Existentia in absentia (existence in absence).

Then she gives a clue to what is happening — the writing poems, (or the writing of poems?), is done by “these days” (that stealth cadre of culprits).

Here’s what I think. She is masquerading as “these days” — having shunted off her moral coil of pretending to be she-who-is-not-writing-poetry — and taken up the amoral disguise of indecipherable everydayness, minute upon minute, lunch too close to breakfast, afternoon nap longing with sultry abandon for five more luxuriant minutes — dust mop across hard surfaces, wet sponge on elevated counters — she disappears into “these days” like a ravished tea bag at end of hot dunking and languorous dip at bottom of spent desire.

She is not writing poems. That task is taken up by “these days” — a clever pseudonym nom-de-plume as ever conceived and birthed into the cloaked ambiance of artificial in-tell-I-gents as any woman might demure while standing flicking hand-fan in midst of gentlemen callers in hot southern parlor.

I rest my case.

She is outwitting us.

She knows what she is, doing.

same as it ever was

 Letting the days go

(bye) September twirls sweetly 

toward the tenth month

First fuel delivery

six bells into the morning

just trying to stay upright

 Ginger ale, Ruffles

Pure nectar and caviar — 

After tiring work

hanc igitur

 We ask you … to show

us how to take away our

incomprehension —

We beseech you, whoever

you are, to teach holding-with

small but significant way

It's not the same.

Nor is it different. 

Do you think anyone is ever going to grant

that a person who is altering is the same person

as he was before the altering began?

 

 —Plato,

Theaetetus  

 

Altering, "change or cause to change in character or composition, typically in a comparatively small but significant way." (from Oxford Languages)

The person is new.

Born, as it were, in new dimensional pass-through.

Alter.

Altar.

Upon which, what is is made, or recognized as, holy.

if you see love say it

 stay with what you know

don't reach too far out about

learn to say nothing

when you have nothing to say --

I love you -- say it

the graveyard political religion is buried

 it seems odd a man

could be so vile and cruel

yet nobody cares

revering him a savior

and giving him their money

can’t trust that day

 Let’s say hello to

Monday, my day, brave foray

Into always new

On deck circle weekdays wait

To see what leads off 

in so doing, looking itself is primary

 I look after me.

You look after you.

We are looking after one another.

So we are friends, and our happiness depends on each other.

According to that teaching I have to take care of myself, and you

take care of yourself. That way we help each other. And that is

the most correct perception. If I only say, "Don't do this, you have

to do that," and I don't take care of myself, I can do many wrong

things, and that does not help. I have to take care of myself,

knowing that I am responsible for your happiness, and if you do

the same, everything will be all right. This is the Buddha's teach-

ing about perception, based on the principle of dependent co-

arising. Buddhism is easy to learn!   (--p.43, Being Peace, by Thich Nhat Hanh)

I look before me.

You look before you.

We are looking before one another. 

expressing one's preference

 she just might be right

asking why say God when it's

likely love or energy

driving train of existence

she prefers experience