My father is “having fun” cleaning the floor he uses the plugged in sink as a bucket wears rags on his feet and shimmies to a cleaning beat he asks me to read the label on the bottle for him he wants our floor to shine and laughs when (surprise) it does this is how I will remember him moonwalking across our kitchen floor rags under his feet “that’s how my mother taught me” he says “but I never take any note it takes me forty years to do what she say”
We present this work in honor of the Buddha’s birthday.
Yeshe Tsogyel Chinese c. 757 – 817
Listen, faithful Tibetans! I am merging with the fundamental, the ground of all that is— physical pain and suffering are disappearing…
The son, the inner elements of my body, is reuniting with the mother, the outer elements. Her physical remains will disappear into earth and stone.
The compassion of the Guru has never left me; his manifestations fill all the world and call out to welcome me.
This wild lady has done everything; Many times have I come and gone, but now, no longer. I am a Tibetan wife sent back to her family. I shall now appear as the Queen, the All-good, the Dharmakaya.
This self-sufficient black lady has shaken things up far and wide; now the shaking will carry me away into the southwest.
I have finished with intrigues, with the fervent cascades of schemes and deceptions; I am winding my way into the expanse of the Dharma.
I have mourned many men of Tibet who have left me behind— but now I am the one who will go to the land of the Buddhas.
Green water, do not boast of your rapid flow from the blue mountains. It is hard to return when you’ve reached the blue sea. A full moon graces these peaceful hills: Won’t you rest a while?
We present this work in honor of the poet’s 100th birthday.
Dorothy Hewett Australian 1923 – 2002
Here they come the clever ladies in their detachable Peter Pan collars their fringes their sober mein hiding such anger such subtle vices dizzying torments how do they manage to keep it intact that demeanour? Is it something they’ve learned? Not from George rough-hewn or Emily choking her mastiff down on the moors. No it’s Jane with her simpering smile her malice her maidenly virtues rustling through the 20th Century seminars sitting on platforms discussing manner and style how to instruct & parry impertinent questions.
When first leaves fall on Lake Dongting, I long for you, thousands of miles away. In heavy dew my scented quilt feels cold, At moonset, brocade screen deserted. I would play a Southland melody And crave to seal a letter to Jibei. The letter has no other message but This misery in living long apart.
When I am very earnestly digging I lift my head sometimes, and look at the mountains, And muse upon them, muscles relaxing.
I think how freely the wild grasses flower there, How grandly the storm-shaped trees are massed in their gorges, And the rain-worn rocks strewn in magnificent heaps.
Pioneer plants on those uplands find their own footing, No vigorous growth, there, is an evil weed; All weathers are salutary.
It is only a little while since this hillside Lay untrammelled likewise, Unceasingly swept by transmarine winds.
In a very little while, it may be, When our impulsive limbs and our superior skulls Have to the soil restored several ounces of fertiliser,
The Mother of all will take charge again, And soon wipe away with her elements Our small fond human enclosures.
We present this work in honor of the poet’s 135th birthday.
Berthe Bénichou-Aboulker Algerian 1888 – 1942
Everything grows intensely in your soil, Algeria! Trees, flowers, and golden wheat, protected by Ceres, Juicy fruits, carnal fruits: Fatma, Rachel, Inès, Zohra the mulatto or the white Marie.
Why don’t I have, like a cantor, a flowery tongue Aloe to celebrate the olive grove Where sometimes the shadow of Cervantes prowls Pirate’s prisoner in ancient Barbary.
Exhaling scents of mint and henna, Cities of fiery growth and unbridled luxury: Algiers, Oran, Cirta, overflowing with sap
Open their white or golden arms like a fan To receive the day. In iridescent prisms The rocks or the beach are transformed.