Dharma Bear
I.
Forgive forgive, it was not me but the gun
--arises in the body
and from life, space; and in space, senses to catch air and light; and
from food, works and days
when their form disappears when word disappears
sang a hunter's song,
broken brown bear pulled up to the porch freeing
spirits from fishes, all fall into ice holes where everyone knows
everyone's business
I am behind your form
and the original fire
sallies all will unable to absorb it soundless
II.
In a warm train she notified a dharma bear, harm licked the wound.
Nomadic hearers. No ordinary
family dances into a seventh
heaven. Soul awes its pasture.
Pieces placed under windows of young girls' dreams
Observed stars moonpie on blueberry maple faithful
vagabond mind,
but offers oneself to phenomena,
prayer,
distance
one-eyed guide
how her nerves and muscles resist her own poison. is not
known.
woods will wait
in place of her
sleep
furry
Ameliorate truth insolvent,
or undulations to empty answers and periodic
energies. She hates exceptions,
how secret they make us leaking
our inner-ships. That was guilt which could
not heal like chaos if there were no earth
but afloat. Her sisterbear in mine. hours
uprooting hurricanes, vanes, time-telling
and moods are oftener now
III.
to its breath. It became
Texts and. in the perception of it.
Temples fell.
Dissolved
their center effecting physiological colors
--vast spaces, seas, microbes.
A reverted eye floods notion with time.
seers
objects of sense
fooled into going
outdoors
Pure
supreme
All-day tests sent in oblique shapes, messenger decoys with
quivers. Take the way from me, computing orbit by our acts,
consciousness of a bear or involuntary lure
Mind in the heart
lunar shoe
Water enters water empties
coal
equates
there is nothing but is related to us.
IV.
Her wrists brown and tender eider
when nothing is to be.
The former running from the latter
while the latter runs upward; rage and heat passing through
its hairs, its eyes, pissed
She said, ``Impulsions: air at the point of exile,
but so withdrawn--where now can it travel?''
A bee-line out the heart. in error there is freedom. Decay
emits a smell of it always streaming away.
Her tongue rises in the center
The dharma's back curls
Only for today the collection of problems follows
a flautist emanations
Line up
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Poetry from Web Del Sol