Friday, May 22, 2015
|Gerry Butler as "Gerard Butler," the man who never was.|
|Gerry Butler as "Gerard Butler," the man he was and still is somewhere in there.|
|Gerry as Gerry wondering, "Why are they so jealous of my charisma, why?"|
|Gerard Butler in his natural habitat.|
|Gerard Butler wondering, "Which is which and who is who?"|
|Gerry saying, "Try whistling this."|
Whatever comes, comes from a need,
a sore distress, a hurting want.
Mary's pain made the baby Jesus.
Her womb opened its lips
and spoke the Word.
Every part of you has a secret language.
Your hands and your feet say what you have done.
Every need brings in what's needed.
Pain bears its cure like a child.
Having nothing produces provisions.
Ask a difficult question,
and the marvelous answer appears.
Build a ship, and there will be water
to float it. The tender-throated infant cries,
and milk drips from the mother's breast.
Be thirsty for the ultimate water.
Then be ready for what will come
pouring from the spring.
Thursday, May 21, 2015
complaining, Why is it
you never criticise the nightingale?
Because my way, the nightingale explains
for Solomon, is different.
Mid-March to mid-June I sing.
The other nine months,
while you continue chirping,
I am silent.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Monday, May 18, 2015
This is a rented house.
You do not own the deed.
You have a lease, and you have set up
a little shop where you barely make a living
sewing patches on torn clothing.
Yet only a few feet underneath
are two veins, pure red and bright gold carnelian.
Quick. Take the pickaxe and pry the foundation.
You have got to quit this seamstress work.
What does the patch-sewing mean, you ask.
Eating and drinking. The heavy cloak
of the body is always getting torn.
You patch it with food
and other restless ego-satisfactions.
Rip up one board from the floor
and look into the basement.
You may see two glints in the dirt.
Posted by Kathy at 5:00 AM
Sunday, May 17, 2015
Some commentary on I was a hidden treasure,
and I desired to be known.
Tear down this house.
A hundred thousand new houses can be built
from the transparent yellow carnelian
buried beneath it, and the only way to get to that
is to do the work of demolition,
and then the digging beneath the foundation.
With that value in hand all the new construction
will be done without effort. And anyway, sooner or later,
the house will fall on its own.
The jewel treasure will be uncovered,
but it will not be yours then.
The buried wealth is your pay
for doing the demolition,
the pick and shovel work.
If you wait and just let it happen,
you will bite your hand and say,
I did not do as I knew I should have.
Posted by Kathy at 6:20 AM
Saturday, May 16, 2015
Gerard Butler, proud Scotsman, proud man, proud son.
And one of the best days of my life.
|Butler, Gibson, Vromen on power walk.|
|Gerard Butler, showing us the tenderness, love-filled pride of his soul.|
|Gerard Butler, before...|
|Gerard Butler attends Haiti Relief Meeting, before...|
|Gerard Butler, window-seated yet looks at paparazzi with hostility and contempt?|
|Gerard Butler, sober, clean, and happy to be alive shouting, "I love Captain Crunch!"|
|Gerard Butler, cool, calm and collected back when his priorities had priorities.|
Posted by Kathy at 7:18 AM
The lord of beauty enters the soul
as a man walks into an orchard in spring.
Come into me that way again.
Like a fresh idea in an artist's mind,
you fashion things before they come into being.
You sweep the floor like the man
who keeps the doorway.
When you brush a form clean,
it becomes what it truly is.
You guard your silence perfectly
like a water bag that does not leak.
You live where Shams lives,
because your heart-donkey
was strong enough to take you there.
Posted by Kathy at 7:17 AM
Friday, May 15, 2015
A donkey turning a millstone is not trying
to press oil from sesame seed. He is fleeing the blow
that was just struck and hoping to avoid the next.
For the same reason, the ox takes a load
of baggage wherever you want him to.
Shopkeepers work for themselves,
not for the flow of communal exchange.
We look to ease our pain, and this keeps civilization
moving along. Fear is the architect here.
Fear keeps us working near the ark.
Some human beings are safe havens.
Be companions with them. Others may seem to be friends,
but they are really consuming your essence
like donkeys lapping sherbet. Detach from them,
and feel your flexibility returning.
The inner moisture that lets you bend
into a basket handle is a quickening inside
that no one is ever afraid of.
Sometimes though, it is fear, a contracting,
that brings you into the presence.
Posted by Kathy at 1:46 PM
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Posted by Kathy at 6:39 AM
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Moses ran after the shepherd.
He followed the bewildered footprints,
in one place moving straight like a castle
across a chessboard.
Then sideways, like a bishop.
Now surging, like a wave cresting.
Now sliding down
like a fish, with always his feet
symbols in the sand,
recording his wandering state.
Moses finally caught up with him.
I was wrong. God has revealed to me
that there are no rules for worship.
Say whatever and however your loving tells you to.
Your sweet blasphemy is the truest devotion.
Through you a whole world is freed.
Loosen your tongue
and don't worry what comes out.
It is all the light of the spirit.
Posted by Kathy at 6:29 AM