Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Buffalo Tears

within a pastel dream
are three lanterns lit
each one for a moment

lapsing into a fog
the glow no longer
as sharp as before

each eye searches
somewhat mystified
by reality succumbing

to the vile interpretations
of earth science and
one thousand mouths cry
for love they never had

please release the demon
that hinges on your wings
flapping mercilessly
upon ideas of freedom
while baby at night sleeps
thru the song of carousels :

eight stiff horses marching
the same path without end
as life lessens its truth
and uncertainty melts into
troughs made from bamboo

distorting the meaning
glowing in wanderlust
before some wicked trio
bathed in nothing but
chinese silk teddies dyed
a pure new moon black

the mind shafts
grow longer in
a desperate search
for necessity
feeding upon the
gallons of destiny
spilled in miro-esque
phantasmagorical wonder
alighting imagination
into vapors of surreal

mayhem pursuing delicacy
traipsing deserted alleys
without endings
........i stall
at the corner of
pause & cottonmouth
asking if more wine
is easily available
for my parched dream
imploding on itself

(buffalo tears fill the vacancy) I wrote this on 2.22.02. I don't know why on that particular day this particular poem came flowing outta me like warm breath on a frigid day. Maybe February 22nd was an extremely cold day but the content..? Quien sabe? Who knows.

Things happen beyond our control that catches us off guard. Haiti is an excellent example of that. An earthquake of epic proportions that defy any explanation other than nature had to do what nature had to do. It was time for that particular area to quake.

Many ask their God why He brought this on to these poor, suffering people who are descendants of slaves. These people who paid for the freedom until 1947 when France called their debt finished. These poor people who never triumphed over their plight which was only compounded by not one, but four hurricanes in 2008. And now this devastation on a scale that dwarfs our ability to react in the manner we all would like so hard to do.

Surrounded be the rubble of fallen buildings that once housed families and businesses, schools and services for the people, now completely and utterly destroyed. Destroyed beyond even the capability of today's war machines... the power of Nature once again shows us whose the Boss... the ultimate say-so that reacts to it's own necessity, people and all life be damned when Nature does what Nature must do. All the pleadings and prayers to the Divine, the Absolute that dwells within each of us, Nature responds to what Nature must do.

This certainly does not lessen our hu'man compassion to come the aid of the suffering, especially when our hu'manity is dealt such a severe blow that shakes us up inside, emotionally, as much as this earthquake has shaken up Haiti and all that live on that island.

To witness so many countries sending help , sending aid, sending doctors and nurses, sending search teams to help rescue those buried under tons of rubble, to the countries that have people of great compassion to stop what they're schooled and trained to do in their own countries to rush to the aid of fellow hu'mans in dire need of any assistance at all, is a heartwarming scene carved out of the decimation of a country that has lived in dire need and desperation far longer than anyone deserves. This I say as a fellow hu'man who has no answer to such natural catastrophes.

But I can say the earthquake is a natural phenomenon that has occurred far longer than hu'manity has walked this earth. The real devastation from earthquakes and any other natural 'disaster' comes from our own shelters, our own edifices which are not able to withstand the forces of nature. Buildings collapsing are the number one cause of hu'man suffering at times such as these... structures built without concern that there will be times when nature will have no choice but to flex it's power be it in the form of earthquakes, hurricanes, tsunamis, volcanoes, tornadoes, flooding of the rivers and fires from lightning strikes. These forces of nature are not unique, never-before-seen events that stagger the imagination. No! What staggers our imagination is seeing how fragile our shelters and other man-made creations which we rely upon in our civilization to maintain a level of civility which we have built, maintained and improved upon for as long as we have had the ability to improve our lives. When we see an earthquake decimate a country and reduce buildings like they were made of sticks and straw should make us cognizant of the fact that what we thought of as strong and mighty structures against more commonly experienced weather occurrences, are nothing against powerful earthquakes and other powerful forces of nature. To those forces we are powerless. What man has created becomes trash scattered over acres and acres of land that once gave life to hu'mans. It is the scattered rubble that staggers us as strongly as the scattered bodies decaying under the hot sun. What to do, what to do? The clean-up efforts and the rebuilding will be monumental and will take the will and effort along with the financial needs of the global society to make a worthwhile dent in this latest of natural happenings that we hu'mans will always have to live with and share together as we have done throughout our time... each enormous, catastrophic event altering our vision, shifting our perceptions for perhaps a more decent and equitable future for all of us and, most importantly, our children's children.

There will be many 'buffalo tears' shed on the long and sometimes dangerous path that lies before us. That journey is but a continuing journey that is called 'Life.' Live it and live it to the best of our potential, for that potential defines us. Ultimately, it is who we are.

cecil
1.17.10

I hardly watched any of the footage. Sadness. Suffering. Avoiding that.

Much to do. Much to rebuild. Much to build better. I never know what to say at such times.
Just sad.

A good poem. A good title. Buffalo tears. Yes.

And our lives go on. One almost feels guilty able to go on with their day to day.

Counting my blessings.

que sera sera...
Yes - what will be will be....and it is up to us as a world community to share in the suffering and lend a hand...

Thx for stopping in, mousey-one. It is difficult to watch too much of the coverage, I agree. I can only take small doses even though to see people helping people does reinforce people are good and many are damned good.

Take care, my friend, and will patiently await your next visit.

Howdy. Kurt, and I agree with your sentiment. As our world gets smaller it's more important to be cognizant of others sufferings and try to do something about it if we can.

The show must go on.
Six miles deep

Thanks for that poem Cecil. It is one for the book. If you ever decided to write another one.

Saludos?
no idea what that means
don't like a Sunday till I see her here.

You're welcome, JT... but I'm not sure which book I wrote before the next one. I have an early copy of my poems which I put together on, what was at the time a much-in-demand Mac 512. That was before the internet and PC's were used for word processing and paint programs, lots of business oriented programs, things and stuff like that.

I wrote it up on that 512 and had a party doin' it... lots of fun for me. I took the pages and had them copied at Kinkos (before FedEx) and the bound them up for me... 10 copies I think. I called the book: "Altitude Descending"... I sold some copies and gave most away. Years later while on Litkicks I found out those types of homemade books were called 'chapbooks.' I wonder if that chapbook was one of the very early ones..?

I have a nice little collection of chapbooks done by several writers who posted on Litkicks. Remember 'Jota'... his original handle was 'Jota da Vida', if I recall. He was writing a book, even posted some chapters on a blog he had up... on rare occasions I see his poems on Litkicks.

Should I thank you for this recall? Odd I'd remember those things today. All inspired by your reply. TYVM.

I hope Veronica aka Arcadia is alright. It's been quite awhile since she's dropped in S8. It is summer in Rosario which means she could well be on a nice vacation, away from the computer and enjoying the weather, which is 91 degrees F as I write this. Good day for a vacation and a cold beer, IYAM.

Morning Cecil,
I liked ‘Buffalo Tears’ very much! Not your usual poem tone. Yes, definitely coming from another muse of a whole different color… trippin psychedelic colors, I’d say.

Re Haiti:
I’ve a couple quotes to offer our shaken and stirred Haitian cousins from the Jesuit priest/psychotherapist/Mystic, Anthony deMello:

”Every time you cling to something to stop your self from falling, understand that it is falling too.”

“Realize that when everything is lost you have only lost a toy.”

“What?!” some hearing this might exclaim, “’A toy,’ these are human LIVES, not mere ‘toys’ that were lost.” Please forgive this former mortician’s apparent callousness, but I don’t take lives as anything more than quickly passing clouds…constantly shifting shape and promptly dissolving into the nothingness they always, in truth, were. Without the earthquake, given a few more moments in time, every single Haitian would have been dead anyway.

Is it the numbers that impress you, hundreds of thousands of Haitian dead and injured? Compare that to: 13 to 18 million people die each year by starvation alone, as did 35,615 starve to death (a painful way to go) on September 11, 2001. Hundreds of millions die annually; they always do. A greater tragedy would be if they didn’t die, and the births still kept on coming. It’s sheer silliness to cheer humanity’s birthing, and morn humanity’s dying. It’s nothing more than the inhalation and exhalation of a natural species.

”In reality, there is no killing and no dying. The real does not die, the unreal never lived.” (Nisargadatta)

How do, N(early) S(ilent) ? I was getting a bit concerned by that silence of yours...

Indeed, life is only for the living. Death is but a transitional step beyond this world and into the next... a continuing journey that quite possibly is as eternal as Pure Consciousness.

However, that being said (and presumably agreed upon), allow me to comment on :

"It’s sheer silliness to cheer humanity’s birthing, and morn humanity’s dying. It’s nothing more than the inhalation and exhalation of a natural species."

It certainly could be seen as 'silliness' especially if either occasion (birth/death), was not one's personal experience. But the fact is people, and that does include the vast majority, honor birth and honor death in many ways, tears and sorrow being one of the most powerful. It is an expression of loss one (person, family, friends or even nation) goes thru to pay a level of homage to the one who has passed. I believe that is primarily the reason burial of the dead is and has been such an ingrained ceremony for mankind. Returning the dead,i.e. the corpse to where it began should not be viewed as a silly ceremony without any justification, but rather an expression of our hu'manity that makes us what we are, which includes emotional beings due to our biology. It is this respect for our very hu'man-ness that I speak of the pain and sorrow of those who lived thru the Haitian earthquake.

”In reality, there is no killing and no dying. The real does not die, the unreal never lived.” (Nisargadatta)

Indeed, Mr Spock. Allow no emotion to enter into that which may reveal in any way our very hu'man nature. To do otherwise may crack the truth which surpasses the reality of Life's suffering.

___


Nice seeing you are alive and doing what you do, my friend. Thank you for your reply, as usual.

The making sense of it is what kills me.
Preachers like Pat Robertson who have look for reasons.
Who to blame for an "act of god"

JT: "Who to blame for an "act of god"

More like an "act of nature"... blame won't go far in blaming nature.

I said an "act of god" I am sure an insurance agent would know what I meant.

Reminds me of something you said about aging is easy but making sense of it is hard.

Poor old Pat, so old and yet still making too much sense.

JT: "Who to blame for an "act of god"

NS: Pat also called it an "act of god," only he took it a step further in an effort to describe his god's motivation behind that act (i.e. revenge). I give Pat 3 points for humor, and 2 more points for investigative initiative. Most believers won't get near Her possible motives, lest they give offense.

Hi, MT (Motivational Theologian) extraordinary,
MT: I was getting a bit concerned by that silence of yours.

NS: When I've nothing to say, I step right up and say it.

MT: It certainly could be seen as 'silliness' especially if either occasion (birth/death), was not one's personal experience.

NS: I've yet to see anyone morn their own personal death experience. They've all become too wise for such mortal foolery. As regards the deaths of those close to them, anyone near our age has surely experienced plenty of those. The lesson one learns (given the capacity) is how wastefully silly grieving is. I bet you've already told those near and dear to you to quickly move on, and spend as little time dwelling on your own passing as is possible, no? Just as you've generously released others from debts of grieving, why not release yourself as well?

"The master came because it was his natural time; he went because it
was his natural course. Those who abide by their time and follow
their natural course cannot be affected by sorrow or joy. They
were considered by the ancients as men released by the Lord from
bondage." (Ch'in-shih)

Yes, I just took it upon myself to chg 'god' to 'nature'. I trust you're okay with that..?

Pat Robertson will be 80 in March of this year. Not bad for the body to age that well, but I'm not so sure his mind has aged as well. He sounds like a man stuck in someone else's words.

Yes, I just took it upon myself to chg 'god' to 'nature'. I trust you're okay with that..?

My insurance agent is a Jesuit. I will have to check and see if he minds.

"shirt sleeve language"