Yoga teachers facilitate energetic experiences.

Adjustments: 4 steps:

1. find stability in self, connect and ground (sthiram)
2. know the goal of the asana, energy, alignment?
3. find locations for hands to create space (sukham)
4. know direction you’re going to go in

Asanas are shapes holding and containing energy.
Magic comes from undoing.

heart/throat/forehead
garden hose/energy flow

love is the truest health.

///the poet is the question///

extreme inheritance
in drugs songs beads and boys
i choose nothing-
this is not the 60s
i do not fetishize
though i relate
we are modern
we are preparing
for 2012
on the cusp of
ancestored brows
we soar cyber-streams
“friend” and “unfriend”
Gurus
listen
with unadorned ears
to the silence rushing
splashed with
audible visions

when i was on the bowery
i thought i was in the middle of it
when i was on the mission
i thought
i was in the middle of
it
Gurus on podcasts and in the middle of parks
on speeddial with a million numbers
accessible but
not really

with
tall, narrow anxieties
tear through new york each winter
ravenous shadows
leaning on each other

but our city was haunted by farm
fields of corn lit golden between chrysler and empire
seasons moving over
glowing spikes

these skyscrapers have roots
underground ways springing up
on bowery and 3rd
growing higher like vine
like the sun in summer.

it is summer.
we do not need your artificial boxes of light.

I have been standing all my life in the
direct path of a battery of signals
the most accurately transmitted most
untranslateable language in the universe
I am a galactic cloud so deep so invo
luted that a light wave could take 15
years to travel through me And has
taken I am an instrument in the shape
of a woman trying to translate pulsations
into images for the relief of the body
and the reconstruction of the mind.

Part One, Sonnet IV

You who let yourselves feel: enter the breathing
that is more than your own.
Let it brush your cheeks
as it divides and rejoins behind you.

Blessed ones, whole ones,
you where the heart begins:
You are the bow that shoots the arrows
and you are the target.

Fear not the pain. Let its weight fall back
into the earth;
for heavy are the mountains, heavy the seas.

The trees you planted in childhood have grown
too heavy. You cannot bring them along.
Give yourselves to the air, to what you cannot hold.

another great service provided by f*book….quote collections!

~~~

“All the soarings of my mind begin in my blood.”
Rainer Maria Rilke

“For one human being to love another; that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.”
Rainer Maria Rilke

“In a time of universal deceit – telling the truth is a revolutionary act.” George Orwel

“Well, to be honest, after years of smoking and drinking, you do sometimes look at yourself and think . . . You know, just sometimes, in between the first cigarette with coffee in the morning to that four hundredth glass of cornershop piss at 3 a.m., you do sometimes look at yourself and think . . . this is fantastic. I’m in heaven.”

Four Questions
-Lalla

Who is awake and
who asleep?

What is this lake that is
continuously oozing back into the earth?

What can a human being
offer to God?

What do we most deeply want?

The Answers:

The mind is what sleeps.
What recognizes itself as God
is awake.

This always-disappearing lake
is made of our appetites,
these movings-about,
this talking and listening.

The only offering you can make to God,
is your increasing awareness.

And the last desire is
to be God in human form.

——

(end of “Fission”:)

ever-tighter wrappings

of the layers of the real: what is, what also is, what might be that is, what could have been that is, what might have been that is, what I say that is, what the words say that is, what I say that is-
Don’t move don’t

wreck the shroud, don’t
move-

and uses both parts of the brain, apparently.

my body has a ghost
in it.
bumps and thumps at night
with it.
startles me with sights
in it.

Lovely,
i missed you when you were
gone
but myself,
more
that knew you and filled up my
attic and basements with our
beating hearts-

you were never really
real
Apparition,
but you were tangible
you were heat passing through
a cold room-

like my farm haunts the city
fields of corn between chrysler and empire
seasons passing over glowing spikes-

at night my body creeks
with your shadow
i keep waiting for you
to materialize
or move on-

i’m trying to get it

different

this time i and you and we

will be different

its starting

different

so should end

different

in that it won’t end at all-

mind,

i’ve mastered you or worn you out

mind

i’ve told you how it should happen

heart

you will listen to mind and all

will be different

what is this body that bubbles up

with fits of honesty

stands in doorways demanding to know

if it will be different

paces the floor into grooves

you are leaving already

it is not different-

sameness rocks me to sleep and

i want it to be

different

i do not understand so i write

holding words like a gun

in a dark night

kept in my bedside

drawer

same

is the deep pit i throw light in

we are the same

we are broken and looking for things

to be different

like a loaded gun

that doesn’t always need

shoot.