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Posts Tagged ‘Sound’

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DHRUPAD 20 (this moment)

Look, look, look now, this this this moment
this this moment, how it is, how it is,
this this moment, how it is, how still
how fast, how still, how fast, how sweet
how fast, river river river singing fast
how this moment river singing fast, singing fast
and slow slow light filters down filters leaf down
green down wavering waving wavering
leaf green filter down and dreaming
and dreaming dreaming mind watching nothing
in nothing in nothing in particular look look
this moment nothing in particular still and sweet
fast and how sweet how still how sweet
swinging cloud river silence wind river
silence green river, silence sky river,
silence shadow river, silence sweet sweet
how this is this is look dreaming mind
river silence how fast this moment
how still this fast particular moment
shattered split open open silent open
cool open eye open surprised by nothing
by nothing but itself carving time
and itself look look how it is
how it is how it is.

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SINTERED VOICES (DARK MATTER SPEAKS)

the river cracked open
becomes starry space

So many words it is a wonder that some peel through the razor noise intact
Not feathered limping, severed spluttering, gasping airless, a stupid music.

the void between emotions:
a valley wind that rolls stones

The howl continuous so familiar, the driver of conscientious actions.
Our names rumbling in the caverns of our ever drunken blood.

if the river runs silent
is it no longer a river?

Fearing silence most of all, we dress daily in chatter
Asking only that our dreams too have electric constancy.

listen, you mute guardians:
i will sing all your names

Oh, Enkidu, striding across tidy fields of tamed constraint
I shall kill you, too, though I love you more than life itself.

there are footprints on the moon
the dust of other lives, sighing

Taliesin, Taliesin, you burst from your womb-bag
Loud and shimmering. If you were not so beautiful
It would have been your tomb.

the silent centre of this land,
where is the end of all things

If you were not such a tricky lad
You would still be sitting next to inpenetrable darkness.

when there is knowledge
you shall be struck dumb

Yet here still you caper in circles around the utter void
Flapping your tongue and pulling faces.

all words, the debris
of other’s errors

all the masters have left us
as if they never were

fading petals pressed
between stained pages

an unexpected lightness
of forgetting why and how

this river, more song and sense
than a thousand nations

this tree, most eloquent
in its most eloquent, swaying silences

raven prophecy
whirlwind visions
the cataracts of unstitched minds
save us from all reasonable madness

we are adrift
on seas of fire,
and hungry,
so hungry, now.

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SONG OF THE LORRIES

Through an open window
The song of the lorries
Pushing up the hill,
Their rumbling voices
And whistling lungs.

When they have passed-
The chant of the thrush,
Praising the god of sunlight
And feathers.

And this sky,
The colour of bluebells.

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THE SENDING AWAY OF NEGATIVE ENERGIES

One, two, three.
The thrush in the ash:
Vast mantra of space,
His bell voice and dorje bill.

Phurba crow
Struts alert amongst the dreaming sheep.
He stabs the ground
With a pure vision.

Silence as the clouds build to rain.
Taiko in the hills.
Lorry dungchens drone
On the valley road.

My ears are pierced with golden words.
Golden dust is in my eyes.
Golden smoke arises from horizon altar.
The Will of Heaven, unfathomable
As ever.

Some say there are stories to tell,
Some say stories to disprove.
In every hedge a blackbird rattles alarm,
Though there is nothing to fear.

Who has the shell as blue as sky?
The robin, I think.
Its white eternal arc
Is the world turned inside out.
Lying unnoticed, fallen from the chapel hawthorn.
A ruse to escape death.

Like shinto priests
The magpies strut with care the chapel roof.
They enunciate name and place
And the desires of each supplicant.
Hop and bow, hop and bow,
And call aloud to the spirits
Who will listen.

Whilst the domed mountain
Rests in Wang-Wei
And Wang-Wei rests in the mountain.
The ghosts of words stretched thin,
Their lips unsure whether to cry or smile,
But that is the nature of prayer and praise.
The whines of the psalmist irritating the gods
To distraction.

Give a little thought to the little things,
The wriggling life stepped upon unseen.
The unconcerned hosts, the vast inconsequential
Upon whom you rest.
The threads wear thin,
The seed unhurried.

A syllable breath forms
In the river’s mouth.
Never quite uttered.
Never quite understood.

We have not enough silence,
Not enough pause to continue here long.
From the dimpled, starry horizons
The Protectors gather.
What shall they deem worthy,
And what destroyed?
It is not a trick question.
But there is no answer.

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An attempt at translation from English into Welsh using iTranslate. Some words were altered to find correlates – it didn’t like ‘held’, ‘unbelonged’, ‘lorn’, ‘furled’. I would welcome any comments from Welsh speakers- apart from a few words that I recognise, I do not know how well the software has worked, but would be interested in finding out how close or far from the mark it is!

Sleepless, I must wait
Tight-wrapped,
Held white and unresolved,
Dissolving,
An unbelonged thing.

Di-gwsg,
rhaid i mi aros
Dynn-lapio,
Cipio gwyn a heb eu datrys,
Diddymu,
A beth nad ydynt yn perthyn.

Wait, and I shall meet you
Down by the bridge, by the ford.
Where the river always murmurs sense.
In twilight, in evening,
Furled suspended time,
Honeysuckle warm
And the whisper of moths.

Arhoswch, a byddaf yn cwrdd â chi
i lawr ger y bont, gan y rhyd.
Lle mae’r afon bob amser yn si synnwyr,
Yn cyfnos, yn y nos.
Amser plygu atal dros dro,
Gwyddfid cynnes
A sibrwd o wyfynod.

But lorn I am
On this longest shore.
White, cold white, the horizon.
The far breakers’ withdrawn roar
Leaving naked the still, black rocks,
A salt taste of wheeling gulls.
A spun void.

Ond gwan wyf
Ar y lan hiraf.
Gwyn, gwyn oer yw’r gorwel.
Rhuo Mae’r torwyr bell ‘tynnu’n ôl
Gadael noeth y dal, creigiau du,
Blas halen o gwylanod gwthio.
Mae gwagle nyddu.

—-

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SERMON

From his pulpit
On the top-most branch
The wood pigeon’s
Sonorous sermon
Drones, resounding,
Slow around.

Beneath him,
Hidden in back-pew bush
Disrespectful sparrows,
In their Sunday best browns and bibs,
Chatter and play,
Impious, but loved,
Regardless
Of the Most High.

LIGHT

An instant before birdsong.
Time returns with increments of colour.
Light is all there is:
Light frozen, light expanding.
We orbit meaning, voiceless
In wonder,
Witnesses to glory.

—-

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HAIKU : ALAP AND JOR ALAP

Raag Bhairavi
Alap of blackbirds
Rain cooling breeze.

Liquid air
Alap of blackbirds
Wind tampura.

Cloud blooms blackbird’s song
New green sways dances
Welcome rains welcome breezes
Mind tongue tastes cool day
Touch settled on clear moments.

(Classical Indian music is arranged in developmental sections. First, is a slow alap where the notes of the scale (raga, raag) are explored in relation to the pakad or thematic melody of the piece. Next comes a jor alap, which is slightly more structured with a rhythmic percussive accompaniment on the chikari strings ( akin to strumming on the guitar combined with a lead melody picked out).
Raag Bhairavi is one of my favorites. I believe it is a morning raag, but has a rather haunting and melancholy pakad with a lovely descent of notes.)

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