Is Noone hear?

Make ur-self @ home

U Beter Run II

My friend was irritated
that I didn't provide
a context for yesterday's
picturepoem.
(I've since altered the image a little and added a little of the context. Below is a further explanation, written in a moment of weakness.)

Flipping through channels
yesterday, a woman blurted
out "you better run."

I was struck with the
multitude of meanings,
from "I have a gun
on you and if you don't move
I'll shoot" to a "note
of encouragement"
to a couch potato.

Suppose, on the other hand,
that she was talking to
her clock, ready to toss
it in the trash.

Or maybe her statement
connected
to a feeling I have of needing
to explore a new world.

Then there are a variety
of possible readings
to my alterego's
response, "go where?"
I'm not sure that one place
is different than another.
If two places are ever changing
the "same" isn't possible, but
I'm not sure "different" is
possible either. Both places
are not only part of the same thing
(i.e. life) but are in the same
quandary of impermanence.

By the time I moved 3 or 4 times
I realized that most
places emulate one another,
and what I experience is because
of me, not the place. So "go
where?" really is saying,
"is it possible to go anywhere
but where you are?"

You asked . . .

U Beter Run

I heard "You better run" as I was flipping through channels. A number of different readings came to mind.

Snow

Two days ago,
ten inches of snow,
then my neighbor
cranked up his snowblower
and polished his driveway, clean.

I made a couple of snow shovel
widthed paths on the hill,
my drive being much longer
than his.

Yesterday the sun shined brightly,
reducing the snow to slush,
and giving us both a little
lesson on patience.

Large Party

I was in a room decorating
cakes with a pallet knife.
The cakes were more the
size of cup cakes.
The smallest piece was
just a fragment that had broken off
from a larger cup cake.
I knew that I had to decorate
all the pieces.

Then the dream switched
to my high school
where they had just installed
some elevators by the stairs.
I believe I dreamt about
those stairs before.
The doors to the two elevators
(one for up and one for down?)
would freely open but sometimes
there would be no cars
and one could drop to oblivion
if they stepped forward.
I was worried and thought
I ought to tell someone.
But it was as if they weren't
broken and no one was concerned.

Next I was at the rehearsal
for some large party.
They wanted to see
if they had enough seats
so they had everyone come to sit down.
There were mostly round tables,
then a table for two
that one person sat at,
and then a table for one where I sat.

We then had interviews and
I started to talk with someone.
Perhaps he was a Buddhist.
Before I was through talking to him,
he invited in the person
who sat at the table for two,
then talked briefly to the two
of us before telling me
that I had to leave.

Text in Squares

I was in school,
but there wasn't an actual time
for the class I was taking.
I had one of my daughter's teachers
and we were supposed to do
something with a page of text.

She didn't want us to use computer type,
but rather she wanted us to hand write it.

I said that I had a type face
that looked like hand writing.
I think I was lying but knew that I
could probably find such a type.
She said that would be fine.

Later I decided to hand write the text,
then scan it into my computer.
My colleague, who is a lithographer,
had written it in pencil and transfered
the pencil to a stone
(not easy to do).
He was very smug
about how good it looked.
I looked forward toward writing
the text into squares,
one letter to each square
like I used to write numbers
in the third grade where
I tried to see how far I could count.

The teacher was disappointed
that I had a class at 1 pm,
and that I had to leave.
There was another part of the dream
about food and a lunchroom
without any windows.

(Lord Jesi
Forgive
my si
ns please

Acme
Swtshrt)

Helping a Friend Take his Life Dream

How wonderful to wake
from a nightmare
to find that
what was so fearful
was only an illusion.

In my dream
I made up a story to hide
how we had helped a friend
take his own life.
I wished, afterward,
that I had not been involved
in the episode.

I came to realize
that making up a story
is much more difficult
than telling the truth.
And then I started becoming
fuzzy about what was my role
in this escapade.

The individual who was
ultimately responsible for
the matter was not
punished.

Still, upon waking,
I was relieved
that it just a dream.

Two Faces

Returning from Nirvana

It was a long ride from
peace & quiet. It was bumper
to bumper going the other
direction.

Three Monkeys

Saved from Dukkha*

There will be
silence while
you wait.
Thanks for
your
patience.
(L.L. Bean)

*Dukkha

Being a Mother

Being a mother
means eating
cold food.

Cuddling

They cuddled close to each other
after being separated for just a
few hours.

Is Buddhism Lots of Work?

He asked
if Buddhism
was lots
of work.

Much less
than suffering
was the
answer.

Tired=Tried

She closed
her eyes
because she
was tired* &
tried* to go to
sleep.

(second arm fell off)

*tired=tried

Two Chairs, Part II

The old chairs waited
two days by the curb
for a new home.
Either the garbage men
took them for reincarnation
or someone recognized
their plight & gave them
a new home.

See: http://mrkimmosleywrite.blogspot.com/2008/02/attachment.html
for part one.

Buddha Mirror

I worked hard
all day to find
the buddha* in
everyone. Then
I glanced in the
mirror and saw
myself.

*buddha=awakened one or enlightened one

Shifting Stuff

As I sort
& shift thru
my stuff,
life passes
me by.

Cleaning House

He looked at
all that he
had brought
home and
wondered if he
could find
peace in it
all.

Cut off the flow of time

He wondered when it would
happen
then a moose appeared on
the road & he
forgot the past
and the future &
the road was all moose.
It
was
the
time that
was stuck
by the moose
in the pipe. He gripped
the faucet & turned it
hard, squeezing another
drop of time from the pipe.

The Sound of Silence

Done at the Mid-America Buddhist Association during a meditation retreat.

To Comprehend a Nectar

This is based on a poem by Emily Dickinson.
Understanding is sometimes what we do instead of becoming intimate.

Kim

Disattachment

I had two chairs for
many years. They could
no longer be part
of our lives. I took
them 2 3 thrift stores.
They would not take them
so I put them out in the
street hoping someone
would pick them up.

This was
the only chair
that I could use
to make art.

Reinforcement

P.S. One of the
chairs was put out
for the garbage truck
in 1969. I rescued it
and gave it a good life.
I don't
remember about chair
number two...except
I believe I took
it apart and painted
it because it was rusted.

The White Bread Kid

Mary had it all.

She was a white bread
kid with not a worry
until her stomach started
to get big when she was 12.

William Blake described such events in his inspirational illustrations and poems in the Songs of Innocence.

The Non-Compassionate Man

This piece is dedicated to Kon Ichikawa,
who died yesterday at 92.
He did a wonderful film in 1956
called The Burmese Harp.

Instead of staying around 2
bury the dead, he went home
to his wife and son.

P.S. The film presents an
ethical challenge to the
adage, "love afar is spite
at home."

Sad Bread

I made the bread very sad when
I picked just one piece to draw.
I assured the other pieces that
I could have selected
them just as well,
But my words were in vein (sic).

Bread and Butter

They asked me if I wanted
some bread. I said no but
they brought it anyway and
I said thank you. I thought
about eating it, but decided
to draw it instead.

No News is Good News

When they are off and away,
we pray for good news,
but more than that,
we pray for no news,
knowing when silence prevails,
they are all right.

The phone rings and we jump,
relieved that it is not bad news,
but rather relieved to hear someone
who doesn't want to sell anything,
who just wants to do a survey.

We want to be there,
at their beck and call
but know deep in our hearts
that they need to explore another world
now that they have conquered ours.

Who said that life was easy,
devoid of anticipation and suffering?
Who said that life was permanent,
and that all would play out
according to Hoyle?

Not me, said the frog.

Yesterday and Today's Art

I did this on Saturday night but it is today's art because I only have one art in me each day.

This is today's art. It is ok that I do this today because who I was going to be yesterday is not who I became today.