Thursday, September 6, 2012

Humongous Rhetorical Deluge


Bloc 11



Humongous Rhetorical Deluge
Breezy Ineloquent
Redolent of Schlock!

              The things that make life unbearable:
              No orange poppy seed scones @ Bloc 11 and
              settling for an Almond Croissant
              with my coffee -->
              too sweet!




John Bailes
Kotatsu Roko
Saturday, 1 September 2012
Bloc 11, Somerville

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

for the person of no rank


Zazen for Ordinary People:


  
The act of concentration by which every being gathers itself within itself
– our very being – stretches across an abyss fading into bottomlessness.

From somewhere deep beneath the ground of all being the Form of things - falling apart and scattering – floats up to the surface.

It matters not how gigantic the mountain, how robust the man, nor how sturdy the personality, the question of nothingness, our own, that of the entire world, this very universe, touches the essential quality of all things.

This nothingness is nothing more than a display of illusory appearance essential to all beings. When all beings return to nothing, we leave not a trace behind.

From ancient times people have spoken of the impermanence of things, the nothing that allows not a trace to be left behind lies at the base of all things from the very start.

This is the meaning of impermanence.

As my dear friend Norman Fischer has said, “Only Love.”

I hope to see you in this floating world.




Kotatsu Roko
Wednesday, 5 September 2012
Somerville


Each of us is the...


Primary Point


This is not a flying away.
This is a coming to be,
a bringing to one point
that which already is,
including flying away.

This is not flying away.
This is allowing to be
one point which is already
including flying away.






Kotatsu Roko
Wednesday, 5 September 2012
Somerville

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Along With the Arctic Ice, the Rich World's Smugness Will Melt


Prospero:
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
The Tempest Act 4, scene 1, 148–158

following  from George Monbiot's article, Along With the Arctic Ice, the Rich World's Smugness Will Melt  28 August 2012, UK Guardian

Sunday, August 26, 2012

You are Everything You Are Not


Upon Glimpsing John High’s Third Act


You are utterly beautiful.
The pain you are now feeling will never go away.
It will only increase in intensity.
The rivets of this life cannot tolerate
the nearness of the Milky Way;
space so dense, the black of black,
so bright, we return.






Kotatsu Roko
Sunday, 19 August 2012
Brooklyn






I open my head.
The Milky Way.
The turquoise river.
No return.






Kotatsu Roko
24 August 2012
Bloc 11
Somerville, MA

Days of Destruction, Days of Revolt...


I’m reading Chris Hedges’ and Joe Sacco’s new book, Days of Devastation, Days of Revolt, and I am engrossed. It is tremendously well done. It doesn’t tell me a thing I don’t know about the “sacrifice zone” and the strip mining of the American citizenry. It does tell it in a clear, concise, direct, human and compassionate way. It is moving to read and not overly emotional or polemic. I agree that the only response is revolt.

Here’s a piece from the book as Julian Martin, a seventy-four year old retired school teacher and son of a coal miner tells his story about his southern West Virginia homeland.

“…They were plenty smart. But the highly talented, creative people have been sucked out of the Appalachians.

“It’s a sacrifice zone,” he says:

It’s so the rest of the country can have electric toothbrushes and leave the lights on all night in parking lots for used cars and banks lit up all night long and shit like that. We have been a national sacrifice zone. Hell, that phrase was created thirty-five, forty years ago. Now it’s terminal. There’s no way to stop it. I haven’t had any hope for a long time. But the only reason I keep goin’ is, why the hell not? I’m goin’ die. Shit might as well hold my head up. I don’t want Bill Raney, the president of the [West Virginia] Coal Association, to be able to tell his lies without somebody saying, “Bill, shit, that’s not true.”

These corporations are goin’ to strip the whole country. If you face this reality you become a guerilla. You blow up the damn thing. I can’t go there, because they will put me in the penitentiary, and I don’t want to go there. I know they would catch me eventually.”  Hedges and Sacco, Days of Destruction, Days of Revolt, Nation Books