Women's Poetry Group

notions in motion

2011-10-08T06:27:00.000-07:00

laying underneath
beckoning from above...

lying behind
becoming ahead...

darkness glowing
in a candle light

shadows sheltering
at highnoon

notions in motion
turning blues into songs*

* there is much turbulence in our world claiming lives, destroying environment,
in the midst of crises, Spring Revolutions around the globe, hold great promise...from these reflections, this poem.

2011-06-19T05:11:00.000-07:00

"false hope seeks refuge
in the land of nostalgia

true hope rises
from the land of the future.

one steps back
while the other moves forward',

said a voiceless whisper
riding on tear drops.

2011-04-19T08:46:00.000-07:00

Gift and giver grow,
in the heart, in the mind
from whose body
the spirit soar
there, where here and beyond
gift-giver-receiver
is One Marvel, Life

gratitude

2010-04-02T08:08:00.000-07:00

Bless the registers
Of unholy Trinity-
There is room for change

an asking

2010-04-02T07:33:00.000-07:00

attention, please stay
without you present, Life grows
unmindful of me.

timeliness...

2009-09-05T17:26:00.000-07:00

HIGH-NOON BRINGS A POINT
WHEN SHADOWS LIKE ILLUSIONS
DISAPPEAR FROM VIEW

vital need

2008-09-11T11:22:00.000-07:00

finding common grounds
in one planet so diverse
paves the way to Peace

Pilipino haiku verses

2008-08-17T09:35:00.000-07:00

with English translations

Sino ba ako?
isang bukang-liwayway-
hinga ng buhay.

Who really am I?
am dawn breaking thru the clouds-
am a breath of life

***

Ang bawat yugto
ng buhay kung tutuusin
ay may kabuluhan.

Come to think of it
every moment in one's life
is full of meaning.

***

budhing malinis
kaisipang payapa
ay gintong tunay

pulchritude within
and a mind that is peaceful
are golden treasures.

***

Dedicated to the World March for Peace and Nonviolence

2008-07-29T13:31:00.000-07:00

Blow chaste wind
clear away the dust and rubble
of apathy...

Pour tenderly sweet rain
moisten the parched lips
of humanity...

Shine bright light
dispel the dark shadows
of subjugation...

Let this newborn
Universal Human Nation
begin...

Its March for World Peace
and Nonviolence to reclaim
its birthright

of Equality, Diversity
and Dignity of
Being Human

A shorter than short story - Memory

2008-07-15T19:47:00.000-07:00

- Where did I go? What happened? - over and over these questions kept presenting themselves to my mind. My memory, my wonderful memory, couldn't give a satisfactory answer. On awakening, riding the bus, or in the midst of a conversation - what a disaster! - these questions would take me by surprise.
I tried to disregard them, to pay no attention when they insolently invaded my consciousness. All in vain. Instead, they insisted on presenting themselves with greater and greater intensity.

Evidently that wasn't the way to deal with it, so I decided to change tactics. I told myself – ok, I will observe these questions attentively, there's no question but that they need a response – but no matter how much attention I paid to them, I couldn't seem to clarify the situation. "Where did I go? Where was I?" The mystery continued.

I began to talk with other people about this matter that had been bugging me for quite some time. I had decided to explain to them in detail what was happening so that I could then ask their opinion, in hopes of finding the answer in their comments. But here another problem arose: no matter how I tried to explain in the best way possible, the conversation always ended like the Tower of Babel! There was no way I could make myself understood. So neither did this turn out to be the way to reveal what was hidden at who knows what depths in my mind.

A sort of growing anxiety began to intrude itself, trying to install itself in me. So that same day I relaxed. My expectations became milder, I stopped looking for results. When the questions would come up, I would reflect briefly on them and then "let them go," allowing them to take up residence in the place they seemed to have found for themselves. Time passed by as it habitually does.

How serene and silent my mind is in this precise instant, like the still waters of the China sea. Softly the voice comes to me that says "when you find the hidden city you must know the entrance, but you will know it at the moment your life is transformed…"* Now I am back again. Nothing seems to have changed.
An intense, warm light occupies my center; sacred fire that reaches my heart and expands, filling more and more space. I stay there with the certainty that I will continue to Wake Up. There are no questions, no answers, hardly any sensation.

A gentle joy overcomes me. I see differently. People and things have an unusual depth and brilliance. My attention flows, remaining present without effort. I am where I am.

May 28, 2008 – in the morning
(*) From Chapter XIV, The Guide to the Inner Road, The Inner Look, Silo, 1973

Regalos

2008-07-03T16:49:00.000-07:00

Los regalos que di
a mis hijos -
¡tesoros mágicos de mi día!
Sonrió cada niño
Y amablemente arrojó lejos de sí cada regalo.
Confundida suspiré
y pensé que era algo extraño.

Hasta que
resignada al acertijo,
limpiando un día la casa
miré en el corazón de sus corazones:
Lo que ellos había dejado de lado
era solo el envoltorio,
pero el Amor que había dentro
ellos lo habían salvado

Un cuento más que breve - Memoria

2008-07-02T17:23:00.000-07:00

- ¿A dónde fui? ¿Qué sucedió? -, de tanto en tanto me volvía a hacer estas preguntas. Mi memoria, mi maravillosa memoria, no lograba respondérmelas satisfactoriamente así es que al despertarme, cuando viajaba en autobús o en medio de una conversación – ¡qué lío! – me tomaban por asalto esas preguntas.

Traté de dejarlas de lado, de no prestarles atención cuando invadían insolentemente mi conciencia. Todo fue en vano. Es más, insistían con mayor intensidad en presentarse ante mí.

Evidentemente así no lograba aquietar mi mente. Decidí entonces cambiar de táctica. Me dije – bien, observaré atentamente a estas preguntas, no hay duda de que necesitan una respuesta –. Me predispuse a hacerlo del mejor modo posible, pero por más que las atendiera no lograba aclarar la situación. -¿A dónde fui? ¿Dónde estuve?, la incógnita continuaba.

¡Hum! Qué podría hacer – me preguntaba. Comencé entonces a conversar con otras personas sobre este asunto que me tenía a mal traer. Me había propuesto contarles en detalle lo ocurrido para luego pedirles su opinión con la esperanza de encontrar alguna respuesta en sus comentarios. No contaba yo con que esto resultaría muy dificultoso. Aquí apareció el siguiente problema: por más que intentara explicarles con la mayor claridad que me era posible, la conversación siempre terminaba al estilo Babel. ¡No había manera de hacerme entender! Así, sintiendo una cierta orfandad de amigos que pudieran comprenderme, como suele ocurrir a muchos adolescentes, tuve que abandonar este método.

Ya no sabía qué hacer para develar lo escondido vaya a saber en qué profundidad de mi mente.

Una suerte de ansiedad creciente empezaba a hacer su entrada tratando de instalarse en mí; llegando una noche a quitarme el sueño reparador. Era algo que presionaba empujándome casi hasta la desesperación. Entonces a la madrugada de ese mismo día me relajé, aflojé no solamente mis músculos; mis imágenes y mis expectativas se suavizaron, dejé de buscar los resultados. Cuando surgían las preguntas tan solo reflexionaba brevemente sobre ellas y luego las “soltaba” dejando que ellas solitas fueran a alojarse en el lugar que pareciera habían conseguido para sí. El tiempo fue transcurriendo como lo hace habitualmente

Qué serena y silenciosa está mi mente en este preciso instante, como las quietas y amables aguas del mar de la China. Ligeramente llega a mí la voz que dice “cuando en la gran cadena montañosa encuentres la ciudad escondida debes conocer la entrada pero esto lo sabrás en el momento en que tu vida sea transformada….. (*)

Nuevamente he regresado. Nada pareciera haber cambiado.

Una intensa y cálida luz ocupa el lugar central en mí; fuego sagrado que alcanza suavemente mi corazón y se expande ocupando cada vez más el espacio. Me quedo allí mientras tengo absoluta certeza de ir Despertando. No hay preguntas, no hay respuestas, apenas sensación. Una suave alegría me embarga. Veo diferente. Las personas y las cosas tienen una profundidad y brillo inusual. La atención fluye, permanece sin esfuerzo. Estoy en lo que estoy.

Mañana del 28 de mayo, 2008
(*) Del capítulo XIV, La Guía del Camino Interno del libro La Mirada Interna, Silo 1973

Eyes of the Soul

2008-07-02T17:11:00.001-07:00

Every time I look at you

with the eyes of the soul

your full being appears

before me

unique

infinitely multiplied

since the dawn of history

My heart is overcome

before the wonderful mystery of life

Human who walks this Earth

today at the threshold of turbulent times

place yourself facing tomorrow,

that more distant and luminous tomorrow,

to be able to softly soar

May I go with you?

I will offer my hand when you need it

with strength I will encourage your step if need be

When the parting comes, we will be there together

and always, always, I will try to look at you

with the eyes of the soul

That is how I would like to arrive at my Destiny

with my mission fulfilled

with my house in order

free and happy

Thinking of the human species, February 1, 2008

Gifts

2008-07-02T17:11:00.000-07:00

The gifts I gave
my children -
magic treasures of my day!
And each child smiled
and kindly threw each gift away.
While mystified,
I sighed
and thought it passing strange.

Until
resigned in puzzlement
and cleaning house one day
I looked into their heart of hearts:
It was the wrapping they had tossed aside
but the Love inside
they’d saved.

The cyclist

2008-06-21T11:57:00.000-07:00

Cycling
silently
behind
a silent
cyclist
I watch him
from behind:
silver helmet
neat
beige pants
pale green fluorescent
ankle straps
pale pinstriped shirt
blue and ballooning
softly
in the wind

slowly he cycles
old-man-like
patient
and in no hurry
but when I almost
catch him
as we reel
down a hill
I see
the shining thickness
of his pure black hair

And then
before I can
capture
his elegant eagle’s face
he turns
to vanish
down a quiet street
into the hidden treasure
of his life

Watching in stillness

2008-06-18T10:40:00.000-07:00

Brushing my teeth the other day
It occurred to me
That there is no need
For guilt.
That I can just watch myself
With curiosity
My impetuous anger
Erupting like clockwork
I can just stand by
And observe
As my feelings flounder by
Like garish floats
In the parade of my life
I can watch
In stillness
From the calm center
Of the storm

Passion

2008-06-15T16:59:00.000-07:00

Poem
Being near you ignites a fire with in me.
I search for an extinguisher to quench it
in fear that I will be consumed.
Yet, were I to pull you close, I would
answer my own distress call, and quiet
the flame myself.
With the sense of your full voluptuous
form held against me.
With the sensation of your lips that have
their own magnetic pull. Now pressed
against mine, I taste you with a curious
excitement, I'm enjoying your breath,
and my life is saved.
Now I nuzzle your neck playfully, and
breath deep as you giggle and sigh.
Desire is our plaything and we have not
yet left the elementary level.
Then the nuzzle becomes a nibble and the
nibble a bite...and we quickly scale
erotic heights and bury our faces in
sensuous lows.
We taste freely and I part your waters
with my tongue. The ebb and flow
pulls me in and my resistance is futile.
The heady aroma is a drowning for
my olfactory sense.
Aromatherapy is the excuse that I
use to plunge again and again.
My desire thickened, erects it's own
statue. You prepare to mount it
gently, like an escalator you drop,
only to make the ascent again for
one more trip.
While you look into my eyes
and flash your mischievous smile.
Your eyes suddenly roll upwards
and your face grows flush.
You squeeze them shut and dig your
nails into my chest.
Your pace quickens as if you were
late for work, I tell you to slow,
take your time, everything will be
okay.
As you come to the rest stop and
unload your baggage.
As we both watch, the station is
full and yet, activity is suspended.
This picture taken, a snap shot
for the ages, filed away in our
scrapbook...a page to which
we can return anytime our mind
request...Passion.

thinking about dying

2008-06-15T16:36:00.000-07:00

I’ve been thinking about dying
so content am i
doing the things of living
I want to go
shining and peaceful
like a bridge to that
shimmering other place

but now
a tiny pain intrudes
its niggling question:
How and when and where?
and I find myself fretting
down the dark road of pain
and despair

But i don't relish
going there
so i ask inside
where my guide
hides
Help! some comfort please!

And quieter than breath
less than a thought
the answer comes:
Death will come
when it comes
and it will be
what it will be…

and somehow
that is good enough
for me

Dream in a time of darkness

2008-06-15T16:23:00.001-07:00

I am in a great black supermarket, a supermarket city – it is night, and there are no lights. Everything is confusion around me – no one knows where anything is, and people can only find with difficulty the goods they are looking for…

But all around me I am surprised and touched to hear people singing – separate voices, men’s voices singing alone in the dark – songs of joy, like hymns …

As we leave, we turn back and see the city on a hill – and beside it two trees gleaming with lights are stand side by side under the luminous arc of the night sky…

We Have a Blog!

2008-06-15T15:29:00.000-07:00

It occurred to me this morning that the Women's Poetry Group could have a blog.

A place to share our writings, and also interchange - about whatever.

So here it is. Please use it to post your poetry and other writings, as well as your comments, ideas, proposals, news, etc.

I will start by posting a dream I had last night, and a couple of new poems...