A-i-t-S 3A : Cold Turkey Zazen

The 3rd in a series venturing beyond the veil of the obvious. Read this for more orientation info about the series. I almost feel a need to apologize since the length of this piece is over 5000 words, but only almost. Within this entire series (A-i-t-s) I try consciously to build as vivid a context as possible, according to my memory, within which the events in question unfurl. If I lose some people enroute, that is something I can live with. It is important to me to treat these things comprehensively and lovingly.

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone – we find it with another.” – Thomas Merton

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Recalling a Mentor

I think on biographies often of late. Not that I read them much, just occasionally. I’m more attracted to imagining the life maps of people I’ve crossed paths with, sometimes in major encounters but just as likely in subtle, ephemeral ways, like when a billiard ball kisses another in passing on a pool table. As experience grows, so does the depth of meaning one becomes able to infer from these encounters. It was such an imagination which caused to me look up an old high school teacher not long ago…

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C.V.

when i was little, even tiny
then my loving was my looking
and when i knew something new
that was something like love too

but with time I saw that “I” saw
that I was he who sees his seeing
so now my love’s become hard work
that I am grateful for its being

_______RS

[ Image : I somehow have misplaced which corner of the web where I located this wonderful watercolor… if you recognize it, please help me with it’s attribution, and I’ll ‘like’ you in perpetuity. ] 

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Lady From Elsewhen

an illicit kiss in jersey fucking city
sent his gyroscope akimbo one night
and she knows something which you cannot
if you believe it merely a trifle

inflection points in biography maps
scurry into dark recess under scrutiny
like shy but menacing cold-eyed eels
biding moments to deliver destiny’s sting

yoni not unlike the tongues of cows
insisting, not inviting, clutching raw, velcro
leaves an imprint beyond all wishing’s pull:
seed revealed once these bodies decompose

_______RS

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Good Nun, Bad Nun

Icker’s youthful reportage on how the convent dwellers of his 6th-grade schoolyear approached a certain disciplinary incident in the classroom. (A previous adventure from Icker’s formative years can be found here).

A changing of the guard took place over the summer between 5th and 6th grades: the two chief mover-and-shaker nuns at St. Aloysius had been replaced.
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