>
> I send this wave rippling
> across the sea to the hearts
> of the few who know,
>
And to the all who know
Beneath the crusts of the obscurations.

Love stretches forth to break
The crusts of the entire universe,

And release the wisdom-love-freedom
Who has slept.

Jim

Perhaps it means, no questions in emptiness brings one to attention, or
mindfulness, awareness.

Best to all,

Jeff

In a message dated 10/17/03 11:18:34 PM, marxred@... writes:

<< it may be an emoticon for "walking meditation"?
lol, dennis :O)

--- In Hollow_Reed@yahoogroups.com, "dick donnelly" <donneld@k...>
wrote:
> Pete
>
> I have to admit I'm lost.
>
> Dick
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "seesaw1us" <seesaw1us@y...>
> To: <Hollow_Reed@yahoogroups.com>
> Sent: Friday, October 17, 2003 10:23 PM
> Subject: [Hollow_Reed] (unknown)
>
>
> > 0?=!
> >
> > Pete >>

I'm guessing that it is a face - 0 = startled mouth, ?=nose, = is the eyes,
and ! is The Experience...

Jesa, new to the list and loving the poetry

At 06:17 AM 10/18/03 -0000, you wrote:
>it may be an emoticon for "walking meditation"?
>lol, dennis :O)
>> ----- Original Message -----
>> From: "seesaw1us" <seesaw1us@y...>
>>
>> > 0?=!
>> >
>> > Pete

Originally posted on
the natural enlightenment
group, and now about to
be posted on all 12 groups
that I a member of, and read
daily:

I've posted the steps in
the process leading to the
Mystic Heart Meditation
several times on the
discussion group site:

http://health.groups.yahoo.com/group/naturalenlightenment/

and on the Meditation
Society of America site,
and in the files section
at Guru Ratings. Searching
the archives and following
the upthread, you will find
them, or you can open the
files section and read the
EPIC file, which can also
be downloaded and printed.

The Mystic Heart Meditation
can lead the practitioner
to the opening of a "door"
into EPIC, and acronym for
an Experience of Pure
Intuitive Consciousness.

When we use our rational
process, linear thinking
and sense perception, we
are relying on what we
have come to know as our
ego, or individual identity,
"us" as a living, thinking
being. And, of course,
there's great value in
this wonderful ability
to thinking and respond
to our environment.

We know to get out of the
way, or not cross the
street, if a car is coming,
and we can judge whether
or not we can actually
jump all the way across
a big puddle (and we can
choose to jump smack dab
in the middle of the
puddle if we want).

When we think of the
word intuition, we can
think of those "hunches"
or premonitions that we
have all experienced, but
just as our ability to
think and reason goes
much deeper than simply
getting out of the way
of an oncoming car or
jumping over a puddle,
our intuition goes much
deeper.

We mix the two, but we
have come to identity
ourselves much more
convincingly with our
thinking..."I think,
therefore I am".

Stretching DesCartes'
philosophical gem a
bit further, we could
say, I think therefore
I am...a person existing
within a physical body.

With intuition, we might
say, "I intuit, therefore,
there might be more to
this whole existence thing
that my ability to think."

I have used the acronym
EPIC since 1975, immediately
following my temple experience
(which if you haven't read
on one of the hundreds of
messages I've posted, was
a "thunderbolt" of awakening
to what, for me, was a
new reality - enlightenment).

This Experience of Pure
Intuitive Consciousness is
the aim of the Mystic Heart
Meditation. As a way to
think of this EPIC, consider
the bicameral brain; one
side for thinking, and the
other side for intuition
(I know this is not physio-
logically precise, but
just use this as a model).

The thinking side, which
is primarily occupied with
our pretty constant inner
dialogue, can be compared
to an active "body of water",
a restless, often stormy,
sea. The intuitive side,
is a placid lake, peaceful,
still. Yet, in the depths
of the lake lies our inherent
wisdom, our "link" to our
very source, a natural
enlightenment, which once
plumped, releases us from
socialized fear and doubt
and returns us to a full
remembrance of our "true
home".

This EPIC is accompanied
by a joy and peace of mind
that startles and delights
our previous identity with
our thinking, analyzing,
compartmentalizing, labeling
mind. However, as we enter
the stillness of the Mystic
Heart Meditation, the ego
which we have identified
our very being begins to
freak out, fearing it very
"life". It's role has been
in great part to protect
and serve us. So, in its
policing role it does not
want us ventur.ing too
far out on this placid
lake, let alone allowing
us to dive to its depths.

Yet, for those who feel
drawn to do just that,
the journey will not be
denied. If you are on
such a journey, welcome
to the dark side of the
moon. But fear not, there's
a light switch, and many
here (on these various
discussion group) who have
found it, and flipped it.
They will point you
toward it. Just use
discretion, and listen
to your heart for a subtle,
assuring resonance before
accepting directions from
just anyone.

Always in Love,

Papajeff

it may be an emoticon for "walking meditation"?
lol, dennis :O)

--- In Hollow_Reed@yahoogroups.com, "dick donnelly" <donneld@k...>
wrote:
> Pete
>
> I have to admit I'm lost.
>
> Dick
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "seesaw1us" <seesaw1us@y...>
> To: <Hollow_Reed@yahoogroups.com>
> Sent: Friday, October 17, 2003 10:23 PM
> Subject: [Hollow_Reed] (unknown)
>
>
> > 0?=!
> >
> > Pete
> >
> >
> >
> > To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
> > Hollow_Reed-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com
> >
> >
> >
> > Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to
http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/
> >
> >
> >

Pete

I have to admit I'm lost.

Dick
----- Original Message -----
From: "seesaw1us" <seesaw1us@...>
To: <Hollow_Reed@yahoogroups.com>
Sent: Friday, October 17, 2003 10:23 PM
Subject: [Hollow_Reed] (unknown)


> 0?=!
>
> Pete
>
>
>
> To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
> Hollow_Reed-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com
>
>
>
> Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/
>
>
>

0?=!

Pete

Washing the dishes, 
Realizing Emptiness,
An ordinary afternoon.

Shakumasu

http://www.shakumasu.com/

Welcome Chaotic, and thank-you for the excellent contribution.

Best to you,

Jeff Brooks

In a message dated 10/17/03 11:38:17 AM, chaotic@... writes:

<< it is 3"01 am i arrive home and check my email briefly and am struck
by a poem by jeff,,,thank you,,,and an invitation to join this
group.......i gave up on poetry long ago...not as a form for language
in itself but as a means of communication, what i mean is who reads
poetry?, i consider myself a poet at heart but poetry is no longer my
medium; (except for us here now, in this nowhere space in nowhere
time, snippets in the continuum of our lives, like all the movies in
the world and all the possible movies were being played at once if you
had videotape to the moon and back 1600 times, the time it take to
give birth or die, refractions in your eye, moments that intercede on
  our existence and moments that forget, not sure where i am but it
doesn't mattr yet, so choose regret, visit supermarket stock fridge,
enter place of emplyment. complete task. leave....music, i believe is
a more efficient means of communication, language, blessed as we are
with this ultra-flexible postmodern world seducing tongue, is still a
barrier when you're in a crowded bar talking to a korean-japanese girl
with relatively good english who can see things in the depths of my
eyes, as can you, i love someone else, it could be you, and i know
that too, and i know that you are maybe spending too much time in
front of your computer, tommorrow go to the park with a book but only
watch the trees, how they bend in the breeze, how somehow that makes
you feel at ease, tunes from a hollow reed, a forest in a seed, is
what you are indeed. >>

Welcome Maxi, please maker yourself at home.

Jeff Brooks

In a message dated 10/17/03 4:24:31 PM, wisebuddhababe@... writes:

<< hi everyone,
my name is maxi (maxine)- jeff was so kind to post his poem in the
sutrasalon and the addy here to join.

thank you very much...
it is good to have a place to share the rhythm of the mind.
-maxi >>

Welcome Thomas.

Jeff Brooks

In a message dated 10/17/03 2:40:44 PM, tnordwest@... writes:

<< music is thebest communication. sometimes I wish we all would stop talking
and just play music instruments, and give love. - hmm, sounds like I'm a
neo-hippy, haha!

gassho,
thomas >>

it is clear
in the vision
i am sitting on top
legs around your waist
holding me up
i am kissing your open mouth
tasting your lips as the warm spit flows between us
taking the liquid energy and running it over my teeth
i wet my mouth with your love and begin
begin to chant
namumyohorengekyo
namumyohorengekyo
namumyohorengekyo
you are shy to chant with me as i am shy to chant
only in this position
i open my eyes
looking deep into yours
and you utter the words of cause and effect into the universe
singing to nature
and we are no longer in the flesh of our minds
but in our minds
centered and together
the climax is only the beginning
as the heat rises our breathing sets its pattern
and we are one
one with the universe
one with nature...

-maxi

hi everyone,
my name is maxi (maxine)- jeff was so kind to post his poem in the
sutrasalon and the addy here to join.

thank you very much...
it is good to have a place to share the rhythm of the mind.
-maxi

it is 3"01 am i arrive home and check my email briefly and am struck
by a poem by jeff,,,thank you,,,and an invitation to join this
group.......i gave up on poetry long ago...not as a form for language
in itself but as a means of communication, what i mean is who reads
poetry?, i consider myself a poet at heart but poetry is no longer my
medium; (except for us here now, in this nowhere space in nowhere
time, snippets in the continuum of our lives, like all the movies in
the world and all the possible movies were being played at once if you
had videotape to the moon and back 1600 times, the time it take to
give birth or die, refractions in your eye, moments that intercede on
our existence and moments that forget, not sure where i am but it
doesn't mattr yet, so choose regret, visit supermarket stock fridge,
enter place of emplyment. complete task. leave....music, i believe is
a more efficient means of communication, language, blessed as we are
with this ultra-flexible postmodern world seducing tongue, is still a
barrier when you're in a crowded bar talking to a korean-japanese girl
with relatively good english who can see things in the depths of my
eyes, as can you, i love someone else, it could be you, and i know
that too, and i know that you are maybe spending too much time in
front of your computer, tommorrow go to the park with a book but only
watch the trees, how they bend in the breeze, how somehow that makes
you feel at ease, tunes from a hollow reed, a forest in a seed, is
what you are indeed.






To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
Hollow_Reed-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com



Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to the Yahoo! Terms of Service.

O C E A N S   O F   W H A L E S


I don't want it to be perfect. A few things broken.
Withered leaves.
The high sky can be an uglier shade of blue. I might
       even grow fond of that.
I want children on the lawn laughing.
Their tears taken away in the buckets of a firemen's brigade.
Oceans filled by crying that never happened.
Leviathans feeding above coral beds.

I have so many questions. I don't want it to stop now.
I had no idea it would be so beautiful.
Thorns on the roses are beautiful.
Age spots on the old man's face.

Cheese melting on a hamburger while I was trying to be
       a vegetarian: Like a fitted yellow bedsheet landing
       gently on a grey mattress. The corners grabbing hold like
       claws of a cartoon canary.

Asleep not knowing I was asleep.
Awake not knowing I am awake.
Everything no less tragic than it is wonderful.
Painful yearning as poignant as a baby being born.

We live with Oceans of Whales.
I don't want to be pretend poetic.
How can I break through all of that to say
we stand here in the not-far-distant company of oceans.
Oceans in tumultuous activity.
Oceans churning with compassion.
Oceans infiltrated with generosity.
Lively with powerful fins flapping
The surf spray hitting the rocks
The plankton moving like a cumulous cloud
An eye, enormous as a basketball.
A body, extended into the darkness.

We are here and we are all of that.
The Seven Seas teeming with uncountable whales.

-- Tom Armstrong

Hearing the word: "walk"
My dukka dog squeaks and sneezes
anxious to sniff 10,000 things--.

it is 3"01 am i arrive home and check my email briefly and am struck
by a poem by jeff,,,thank you,,,and an invitation to join this
group.......i gave up on poetry long ago...not as a form for language
in itself but as a means of communication, what i mean is who reads
poetry?, i consider myself a poet at heart but poetry is no longer my
medium; (except for us here now, in this nowhere space in nowhere
time, snippets in the continuum of our lives, like all the movies in
the world and all the possible movies were being played at once if you
had videotape to the moon and back 1600 times, the time it take to
give birth or die, refractions in your eye, moments that intercede on
  our existence and moments that forget, not sure where i am but it
doesn't mattr yet, so choose regret, visit supermarket stock fridge,
enter place of emplyment. complete task. leave....music, i believe is
a more efficient means of communication, language, blessed as we are
with this ultra-flexible postmodern world seducing tongue, is still a
barrier when you're in a crowded bar talking to a korean-japanese girl
with relatively good english who can see things in the depths of my
eyes, as can you, i love someone else, it could be you, and i know
that too, and i know that you are maybe spending too much time in
front of your computer, tommorrow go to the park with a book but only
watch the trees, how they bend in the breeze, how somehow that makes
you feel at ease, tunes from a hollow reed, a forest in a seed, is
what you are indeed.

Silence

Words can't fly like this
Words grant scant relief
From gut-wrenchings
Words frame and box and shove
Screaming yesterday's torment
Pretending to know tomorrow's
No give me dead silence
Sensuous vision
Attune me with billowy blue's
Impregnating power
Teach me to swim wide-eyed
Into the viridescent
Until I disappear into
Sunsets and dreams
Let me abide in magenta robes
Bleeding sweating weeping
Until mystic labors once more
Give birth to unspeakable joy
Beyond thoughts and words
Leave me speechless
Leave me alone
I don't want your solace
I just want to paint
Paintings from the soul

From the book Sunrise At Two Lions
(Accompanying painting will be added
to files: Silence)

Papajeff

Human Intervention

Forests turned to paper
Tar oozes across the land
Ink spills down the page.

Hello Mazie, thank-you for your kind support and your excellent Haiku.
Welcome to the Hollow Reed.

Best regards,

Jeff Brooks, moderator

In a message dated 10/17/03 8:09:05 AM, sraddha54@... writes:

<< Dear Jeff,

This group's manifesto is after my own poetic heart! It ought to be
fun and delight just going funner and delighteder...teehee,

and hello Jill, mentoned in the post to Jeff.


split, this day at dawn,
now, here within hollow reeds -
melon red sky sings



Love,

Mazie >>

Dear Jeff,

This group's manifesto is after my own poetic heart! It ought to be
fun and delight just going funner and delighteder...teehee,

and hello Jill, mentoned in the post to Jeff.


split, this day at dawn,
now, here within hollow reeds -
melon red sky sings



Love,

Mazie

Thank-you for your kind support Jill, do feel free to post your poetry here
whenever you feel like it.  I'm glad you like the name.

Best to you,

Jeff

In a message dated 10/14/03 1:16:55 PM, ishaaj@... writes:

<< Hi,
I have joined...thank you.  This will be fun to watch it develop. I
love the name.
Jill >>

Hi,
I have joined...thank you.  This will be fun to watch it develop. I
love the name.
Jill

the Five Elements of Blossoming
for Kabir

"Love is the only
thing of value
in this world," says Kabir.

Dry July winds
blew across
dead cotton fields,

and I slept lonely nights,
frozen in a crystal
matrix of hard lines.

A vast emptiness
echoed inside, where
there was nothing,

not even crisp seeds
to grate against
a brittle skin.

At the end of my road
I slept on a ledge
above high tide,

beneath an ocean
of stars that reached
out and touched me.

They sang all night,
"love is the only
thing of value."

Monsoon rains fell diluting
the fire left in desert rocks
by the summer sun.

I sought peace and quiet
in the roar and whine
of the late-night city,

and found it, inside,
like melting snow.

A stream of glacial milk
glistened down the center
of the peaceful valley of my mind.

Light shines
from that deep blackness.

Like liquid obsidian
I have grown fluid
and glassy smooth.

I send this wave rippling
across the sea to the hearts
of the few who know,

love is the only
thing of value
in this world.

        -- Jeff Brooks --