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Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Beijing 1990: Difference Between A Stem And Thorn

Games of the dead.
The festival of the dead
seems special this spring in Beijing.

On the streets I see and hear
people wailing broken grief.

Men weeping 
so drunk full of memories
of friends and family 
whose lives ceased to exist.

Leaves freeze 
dried from winter
blow in the streets -
and tears fall,
until those who were once full,
empty -
until their memories cease,
to exist.

We are all now one, 
mixed with shadow -
people and memories 
the same.

As existences 
we roam the streets 
day and night,
in search of touch 
and a cradle to sleep.

We roam seeking caretakers 
who care not 
who they take in 
to care for.

We seek those who care 
for all equally 
knowing we are all equal 
in death, life and beyond.

I know we strive 
for equality in life -
some seek to recreate while living.

I know equality exists in death, 
yet sometimes eludes us in life.

I know equality exists 
as a pre-death humour -
laughing and choking equally hard.

The wind blows
and I see the stardust twinkle, 
to remind me of life.
We are electrical shadows 
of light's eternity.
I see the falling stars fall 
to remind me of living life.

We are life.
We are dust 
dust which each day 
passes into the night.
We are dust in the night 
that must not 
absentmindedly 
be brushed off 
our faces.

To preserve my sanity,
I eat cured fruit 
and preserved vegetables.
I hydrate using heated water,
hot beyond the human body temperature.

In my pocket I carry 
a small packet of hot pepper -
to spice life with sentience,
to preserve the beauty of humanity, 
and ensure that life can be shaken alive.

I know human beings 
desire to be remembered,
make a mark, be remarkable.

I know human beings desire 
to leave a trace of their existence.

I know it is not the hands of humans 
that write our archives.
Our existence scribes its own journey - 
destiny's path is carved by our deeds.

Actions and words speak loud as intentions -
impressions considered as accomplishments, 
memories remembered, 
by bodies larger in scope 
than one moment's breath.

Our human substance travels Space -
recording, memorizing, sensing ...
that life is an eternity -
larger than our egos 
can imagine post-birth, pre-death 
plus everything in between and beyond -
beyond our imagination.

Silently I spin 
in the thresholds 
of mental image pictures,
and beyond. 
I am, encased within,
an immense multiversal heart.

A seed blows by in perfect time.
The root of all existence,
the root and heart of all growth,
lies simply in the intelligence 
within a single seed.
The seed, a rose petal’s difference 
between a stem and a thorn.

~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~

During the Zhou Dynasty, Laozi (Li Er 李耳)wrote,
"Do the difficult things while they are easy
and do the great things while they are small.
A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step."

Sometime after 1838, Henry Brooks Adams wrote;
“Chaos often breeds life, when order breeds habit.”




1st International Kite Festival,  Beijing China 1990