Gaia Community: siafu 's Blog

of merit

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 07:16:04 GMT

~*~

with lightness of heart

oh morning present,

I prepare to sit and

give thanks..

merging steadily and surely

within the healing glow

of divine providence..

I bow joyfully, raising open palms aloft

in honour of the restorative elixir of merit

that has afforded me

a wondrous remission

from this noxious dis-ease..

with faith do I remain

opened of heart and mind

to the peace and serenity within,

breathing in the sweet heavenly

nectar of restitution..

~*~

Tags:

ode to Patience

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 08:24:32 GMT

she is our greatest friend, truest ally

yet, oft times she eludes us...

she is mysterious - can be fickle;

her presence is always welcome,

as many times, her absence causes

untold hardship and grief..

she is serene, wise

and always shows us the optimum way

of handling any circumstance..

she teaches us that life's vicissitudes

are best handled with respect and dignity,

she is never hurried, never quick

to rush to judgement...

friend to all sages, saints and less skilled mortals:

lethal foe to cousins pride, arrogance

and immaturity,

I yearn her constant light and guide,

turn to her when bereft, walled in

or lost for direction.

she never disappoints and readily

shares her wisdom to all who call upon her nurture..

she is a real partner to all souls,

a constant living authority,

fear not to call upon her at any time

any place, for she will never forsake you,

waiting quietly in the wings,

guaranteed to bring you

peace, joy and succour..

she thrives and blossoms,

especially within a still and reflective moment

and always gives generously of her time

to those with humble mien

and open heart..

with grateful bows to

our ubiquitous, quietly magnificent

and inimitable helper,

dear Patience.

Tags:

de blooze

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 19:03:39 GMT

~ * ~

frettin', slidin', screamin', crying,

achin', bakin' - moo-zik making..

liein', sighing, singin', flying,

kickin', purring, prayin', dieing,

soawl food - settin' the mood

I lurve the bloos...

~ * ~
*

Tags:

reed allowed!

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 22:06:41 GMT

~ * ~

fluffy, airy puffs of moisture,

tingling - trickle down

from vaporized ether..

dance of fruition,

the breath of knowing -

a grasp of the unfeigned,

a gasp of the surreal..

fragmentary forgetfulness,

our earth turns:

some universal smiling,

an unknowing wink..

all is well,

embraceable you,

embraceable us..

it had to be: thus.

(abundant affirmation:

spin a thought

for your dissolution...)

a grasp of the authentic,

a gasp of the surreal..

all is well,

embraceable you,

embraceable us..

it will be thus.

~ * ~

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dicing with anguish

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 08:22:54 GMT

having emerged

virtually intact

from a battle

with ‘the darkness..',

herewith

relating self-assuredly,

journeys to nether regions:

to find oneself

lost, disoriented,

without the least energy,

moral and physical fibre depleted and spent...

a hard place, gentle reader,

one which affords

a glimpse of living torment..

with essence shredded,

mind and spirit shattered,

time stands still - and punishes..

each breath betokens

such gargantuan effort,

each thought

frozen and paralysing..

each gesture monumental anguish:

a Nubian tunnel, eclipsing reason,

espousing ragged self-pity,

rage, despair, oh.. and anger,

yes, anger.

behold!

as circumstance would have it,

blessed relief finally manifests..

faith and determination, snail-like,

inscrutable, return to enrich and nourish,

pouring loving oil over troubled spirit..

gradually, imperceptibly

the love that is the essence and glory

of living and breathing

asserts its ranking authority..

fellow travellers

able to make their presence

and vibrancy felt once again..

thank the Lord for the wisdom and joy

of regeneration and the bounty, inevitability

and glory of refreshment and grace!

‘upon a withered bough

a flower blossoms.'

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life at ‘Unsettled Inn'

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 12:46:26 GMT

being ‘without' the place

one ‘wishes' to be ‘in...'

assembled just perceptibly

off vision and thought's

periphery - squatting,

like invading army

sit desire, greed,

impatience and ‘need..'

ahh - this is indeed

the crux of the matter..

can we, in our fateful hour

vanquish little self?

always a part of our unfinished universe,

the need to feel ‘complete'

never able to accept

just THIS..

discomfort, lacking essential satisfaction:

therein lies the ‘rub',

continuously to return to this fearful reality

and face and conquer, with openness

of heart, is my daily

destiny and struggle..

faith, not blind but oft unseeing, becomes

the warp and woof

of my persistent courage..

with bows

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sitting amidst a peerless dawn

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 07:06:01 GMT

sitting amidst a peerless dawn,

opening to the myriad perceptions..

acknowledging the pain and discomfort.,

engaging with every shade and nuance,

the gentle light of daybreak

penetrates...

patiently absorbing the truth of the moment

stillness beckons,

self-absorption dissipates,

the truth of emptiness

prevails..

joy eternal and a pacific smile

engender peace of mind and body:

it simply does not matter

anymore...

I give obeisance with boundless gratitude,

and rise to face the day,

emboldened by the process

of faith,

and knowledge that the instant

is but passing..

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in praise of a true bodhisattva

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 08:04:54 GMT

how I truly love this

Holy person..

one who brought humanity

back to mankind with sensitivity, intelligence

and humility..

regardless of the pressures of reported history

one way or t'other,

it is impossible for a reasoned thinker

not to be awed by this Man's impeccability

and integrity..

I refuse to be swayed, by virtue of my received birth - Semitic,

nor by impassioned advocates of doctrine who would

endeavour to force me into an

either/or stance that would led me only into

fear of adopting a untenable position that

casts me into the fires of hell...

I know only that He led an entirely blameless existence;

no stain of evil crossed his actions - ever,

despite immense and sustained provocation...

what an example for us all!

His life was, is and will always be a joy to behold..

He has brought me immense faith

in the finest, absolute potential of human enterprise...

as only a handful of people

in humanity's shared, short history

I respect him inordinately,

and am immeasurably grateful to know his works

and wondrous explanations,

thoughts, perspectives and championing

of the underprivileged...

if only we could, as a complete and seamless world,

accept his teachings without division and judgment,

would we find commensurate peace, joy

and fulfillment in our lives.

with bows

Tags:

An out-fashioned hippie encounters the US of A, fall of 1980.

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 17:48:29 GMT

This memoir I am certain is factually and chronologically correct - I remember landing at Kennedy Airport, NYC in November 1980 on my first (of two) transatlantic forays to date - it was November 4 - the day the American public voted in Ronald Reagan as their new leader but, curiously, coming as it did shortly before the murder of John Lennon in New York City - my recollection is of having been in London when I heard that dreadful news - one of those puzzling inconsistencies with which I cannot square up. I am sure I spent six weeks in the States, which would have had me still Stateside at that momentous time - memory is fickle...

Preamble:

This journey I undertook was memorable in many ways - for the variety, scope, synchronicity, sheer intensity and diverse experiences I encountered along the way. It came at a time of deep unrest and confusion in my life; many years before I truly found my way. 1980 ushered in a new decade - the 70's for me had started with such promise: new uni.. student in 1970, (Philosophy & Sociology - Exeter), aspirations of rock stardom (I cut a rock album in Hamburg, W Germany, 1972, produced by Uwe Nettelbeck, manager of legendary ‘krautrock' band ‘Faust'.. this creative enterprise was cut short and finally aborted following on from the gunning down of Israelis at the Munich Olympic Games.)

For me, the 1970's were dogged by inordinately severe back luck and timing (the above is but one example of many), excruciating personal underachievement and momentously bad life-choices... so, by the advent of 1980, I was due enrichment and a turning of the tables - the 80's however, were (personally) but a marginal improvement on the previous decade, still dogged by bad luck, lacks of sound judgement and failures on my part.

I therefore arrived in New York that fateful November, kind of ‘on the run' from a desperately deteriorating, precarious, and nefarious family situation - emotionally scarred/numbed and deeply enmeshed in the prevailing drug culture of that time..

Itinerary:

NYC - Philadelphia - Washington DC - Richmond, Virginia - Jacksonville, Florida - Miami - Tampa, Florida - Tallahassee - Mobile, Alabama - Biloxi, Mississippi - New Orleans - Montgomery, Alabama - Atlanta, Georgia

November 4/1980 - Kennedy Airport NYC

Flying across a deep blue, placid and endless Atlantic ocean, we first encountered Newfoundland, then hit the Eastern seaboard of the US on a beautiful fall afternoon - the excitement was fuelled by the anticipation of meeting long-lost old friends and also savouring the sites and sounds of history and legend - the USA!! On arrival, my first encounter was with a ‘Moonie', intent on recruiting this englisher to his cause - portentous beginnings..

Now, I defy anyone not to have been thrilled and have marvelled at their first encounter with the New York (Manhattan) skyline - arriving by yellow cab in the early evening, the sheer enormity of electric brilliance, overdrive and architecture was mind blowing:

I made my way up to Greenwich Village, to the studio apartment of an old uni.. friend, Peter Blegvad, a musician, artist and illustrator (‘Leviathan' - the Independent), who was later to claim fame on the avant garde music scene with SlappHappy and Henry Cow. We immediately got down to playing our geetars and smoked and drank the night away with abandon, in his huge loft apartment.. the next few days passed in a flurry of musical and social experiences that typified interactions of the time. (mad mad mad...)

I, however, was anxious to get travelling and found a novel way of so doing. I discovered via the voluminous New York Times: ‘Auto Driveaway': this was a great and novel way of travelling across the States: rich people who wanted to winter vacation in sunnier climes (e.g. Florida), also wanted their car with them, but could not be assed to drive them all that way - this is where I came in - hired drivers to take their vehicles across the continent for their use on vacation; for the price of the gasoline, I was to drive this brand-new Oldsmobile all the way down the eastern seaboard: New York to Fort Lauderdale in Southern Florida:

NYC - Richmond, Virginia

I was on my way! Armed with a huge bag of weed, a brand new Oldsmobile the size of a small European state, I snaked my way out of New York City, through the desperately poor neighbourhood of New Jersey (the unspoken of, unannounced underbelly of the US - I was shocked and appalled at the depth of poverty and squalor I encountered, adjacent as it was to the affluence of nearby NYC - dirt-littered, rubbled streets, kids running about virtually shoeless/homeless, truly a third-world scenario. This was a side of US life I was to encounter at regular intervals on my travels, especially south of the Mason-Dixon line).

So! This is it - the grand adventure begins - the wide, wide, velveteen open road (‘black top'), more country music radio stations per square mile than you could shake a stick at, gasoline cheaper than water (it needed to be with a gas guzzling V8)... Driving through Philadelphia, another amazing mass of urban madness, on into Maryland, an outstanding riot of New England colours of fall - greens, purples, reds; especially yellows and browns of every nuance and shade, stunningly fecund and beautiful; scudding clouds, azure blue autumnal skies, a veritable paradise, light years away from drab London UK..

Next stop, Washington DC - in true maddeningly (in retrospect) carefree hippie style, drove right up to the White House lawn, sat there in my travelling mansion, rebelliously, lit up a spliff and smoked a tribute to the newly elected president of the USA (naïve and innocent times). That night I drove on to Richmond, Virginia - I arrived there early evening and surprised my young, recently-relocated Mancunian brother-in-law (not strictly true - was not legally wed to his sister) - the reception was less than rapturous and after supper in a local diner, I ended up sleeping in the car, as he did not think his gran'mamma would be happy to see a long-haired white boy (dis-)grace her porch. The house was a ramshackle old wooden affair in a black neighbourhood and full of fascination and history to me...

Richmond, Virginia - Fort Lauderdale, Florida

Next day, I continued my journey south; I journeyed through some wonderfully American sounding towns, also revealing a rich indigenous and European heritage: Emporia, Rocky Mount, Fayetteville, Elloree, Charleston, Savannah; towards dusk, I finally passed into Florida, through Jacksonville and ended up in pitch darkness, meandering off of the main road and sleeping in the car. I awoke early next morning - in a veritable swamp! Evidence of tropical jungle, alligators and all manner of strange animals spurred me on my way...

I stopped at the aptly named Great Cove Springs for my first ever Macdonald's breakfast - this was a true innovation back in 1980 and where I encountered for the first time that weird and wonderful American invention: sausage (flat, circular) and ‘hash browns' for a mere 50 cents, including eggs ‘easy over' and as much coffee as I could swallow in one session...

I continued driving down the east coast of Florida throughout the day, past what was then Cape Canaveral, a forest of huge structures pointing towards the stars, until I reached my initial destination: Fort Lauderdale, just North of Miami. I dropped off the auto, in good repair, to its owners, who were renting this vast bungalow-type detached property somewhere in suburbia - all I remember is, that on entering the front door, a vast swimming pool about 25 metres in length stretching out to eternity:

I was just told, deadpan: "you can get a bus into Fort Lauderdale from across the way" and left to get on with it - uncharacteristic lack of hospitality, I felt.

I bussed it into town and was once again awestruck by the opulence and extravagance I encountered in town. The pavements were as wide as London streets in their entirety and some buildings even had deep pile red carpets outside! It was extremely hot trawling through the wide arcades. I remember an inner canal, which ran parallel to the coastal beach and was filled to the rafters with expensive and huge motor cruisers, yachts and schooners of all descriptions:

I kow-towed it to the beach and was bowled over by the beauty, temperate nature and depth of colour of the Atlantic coast this far south. I spent the night stretched out on the sand dunes and beheld a truly memorable sunrise early next morning - whew!

However - Florida was surely ‘not my scene' and I decided to take a chance and head for New Orleans, Louisiana, a fair few hundred miles North and West from there. This was to prove a move of great significance for me and in narrating the story you will see provenance and synchronicity of the highest order in the subsequent unfolding of events.

Fort Lauderdale, Florida - New Orleans, Louisiana

Car hire being the ubiquitous and cheapest form of transport in those days, I hired me a bright red, shiny Chevrolet Cougar sports car for the trip to New Orleans, for next to nothing:

Needless to say, I was tickled pink to be in charge of such a piece of extravagance for my trip across Florida, (those days, easily pleased) - little did I know what was in store for me that evening...

On route from Miami toward the West coast up along the Mexican Gulf, I picked up a hitch-hiker - we drove across some esoteric indigenous American Indian reservations and swamps that day, with correspondingly exotic names: Lake Okeechobee, alongside the Caloosahatchee river, through Myakka River State Park..

It turns out that my ‘companion' that day, being some sort of ‘ latter-day Christian evangelist', was staying at a centre, to which he invited me to spend the night. Little did I know what I had let myself in for. We pulled off the road, just south of Tampa and entered this ‘nether world' the like of which I had never imagined possible and to which I subsequently vowed never, ever to return as long as I had breath in my body. Consisting mainly of mobile homes, I was ushered into these folks' home and then subjected to a form of right-wing racist propaganda that had me quaking in my boots. Why I just did not turn tail immediately and head outta there I do not know (too scared, I think.)

Anyway, it turns out that these folks were convinced that Satan had arrived in the USA as a black lesbian and all black folk the reason for all that ailed the ‘glorious Amurican Reepublic'. What would they do to me if they knew I was shacked up with an African American and father to two mixed race kids? Needless to say, I kept real quiet about that...

Later that evening I was subjected to a gathering of similar-minded maniacs in a huge purpose built dome and had to endure a couple of hours of mindless proselytising by some jerk preacher, his adoring congregation jumping up in unison every two minutes shrieking: "HALLELIUH, PRAISE THE LORD!!"

I spent what was probably the most uncomfortable night of my life in these folks' home and could not wait to escape the next morning - whew!

Driving northwest up the gulf with a huge sense of relief and feeling of having escaped death by insanity, I eventually cut out of Florida and passed through Mobile Alabama, a temperate wasteland and shortly into the exotically named, Biloxi, Mississippi.. Toward evening, I prepared to enter New Orleans with great expectation. The arrival was truly awe inspiring:

To reach New Orleans from the east by road, you have to cross Lake Pontchartrain via a 5 or 10 - mile long bridge that hugs the water all the way across:

The view of the city of New Orleans at sunset, approaching it from the lake, was simply stunning and remains eternally etched upon my memory..

New Orleans & Richard Thomson Porter:

Now, I can reveal one of the most synchronous and strange happenstances that I encountered in my whole life; to rewind an instant: way back in 1967, when I was a 15-year-old public-school boy whose horizons were entirely filled with girls and blues music, both in the hearing, listening and playing, I met a young guy from the Lake District in Northern England who was to have a profound effect on my life.

The circumstances were somewhat convoluted. One of my best friends at school, John Barber, (with whom I played in a Blues Band - Tearman's Blues Band), having already left school that year, being some two academic years ahead of me (God how we envied him!) had travelled ‘up North' and was living in a border town called Carlisle, on the Scottish frontier - this barren and windswept town was a full day's hike from London. Come the winter holiday, I lost no time in hitching a ride up there to see him..

There they were, the two of them, living an adult life - earning real good money, working on the newly built M6 motorway, playing music at every spare moment, romancing girls and enjoying life to the fullest. Richard cut a dashing figure in those days, young, raven-haired, great looking, a connoisseur at chatting up and bedding all the local young women and with an irrepressible humor and an indefatigable energy for all the good things in life. At 18, he had all the charisma of eternal youth and a bravado and zest that seemed truly monumental.. A hero, a role model to a young impressionable school kid like me!

Over the next few years our friendship grew; later, he disappeared to the States when I was just setting up shop in London, trying to get a foothold in the music business. He came back, in a whirlwind as usual, recently married to a beautiful young American-Armenian lass, Linda Serabian, whom he had met whilst becoming a New Orleans street musician. His adopted family had afforded them a six-month European honeymoon. Boy, had he landed on his feet there! The girl came from a wealthy family and later was to set him up with a famous and culturally historic recording studio in Bristol City, Tennessee.

We spent the summer months playing and tripping out every weekend in his little North London pied-a-terre at the base of Alexandra Palace - it was dreamy and fun. He then left to return stateside and I was not to see him again until my descent into New Orleans, some 8 years later. Now, I had completely fallen out of touch with him - all I knew was that, 8 years previously, he had returned to New Orleans with his new bride - I had heard nada - nothing during that time.

So, I was taking a huge gamble, a long-shot, if ever there was one, in expecting to find him so many years later in a big city.

Cutting back to the trip - just crossed Lake Pontchartrain on that glorious autumnal evening - I headed into town - where to start looking? I made for the French quarter, which is where all the music happens and seemed like the obvious first port of call:

I parked up, and headed into a bar - the first one that came to hand. There was a band playing on stage - this crazed, hunched-back one-legged singer was belting out a Jackson Brown number - I did a round turn, staggered and almost lost it - it was him!! Richard, my old buddy, up there as usual, wildly entertaining the crowd...

But how he had changed - I scarcely recognized him; gaunt, wasting away, minus one leg, he was but the vaguest shadow of his former self. Wow, when the number finished and I ran up to the stage, it was if time stood still - that reunion remains one of the most potent and emotional moments of my life. Of course, I had to join the band up there that night and we played a rip-roaring set that had the punters on their feet.

However, once the joy and excitement had worn away, I realize that my buddy was really in a desperate and hellish situation - things had gone extremely awry for him in the intervening years - he had lost his right leg below the knee in a motorbike accident, had ended up in the infamous House of the Rising Sun' - a Louisianan penitentiary and now was a virtually starving and impecunious street musician, living solely on his wits - separated from his lovely wife at the time and living in some rat-infested garret in the poorest part of town. I did what I could for him, but selfishly, had plans to visit another buddy who was up in Atlanta, Georgia - I hung around with Rich for a few days, but left him, to drive the few hundred miles upstate to Atlanta - I gave him as much money as I could spare and vowed to revisit him at a later date - the parting was fraught, he begged me not to leave and I did so with a bad taste in my mouth.

Atlanta, Georgia - Julian (& Joanna)

At last; arriving in beautiful, sun filled, leafy suburban Atlanta was a wonderful moment - not least as it betokened a joyful and warm reunion with two of my greatest buddies form Exeter uni. days: - Julian Brogi and Joanna Gibson, a wonderful couple of erudite and beautiful souls from Ealing in West London; our friendship had been, instant, deep and spontaneous from the very first meeting - kindred spirits in the world of literature, art and music, this bonded couple (the ‘perfect couple' if there ever was such a thing,) both heralded from immigrant families, as do I - Julian, half English, half-Italian, Joanna, half - French, half English. We spent two glorious years as friends, going everywhere together, doing everything together - like a close knit family of compadres. They had acquired the archetypal VW camper van, so ubiquitous of the sixties and seventies, with a miniscule engine with a top speed way in excess of 20 miles per hour!

Alas, even their impeccable togetherness had been eroded by their move over to Georgia - they were, much to my amazement, no longer a couple when I arrived, but still good friends and colleagues - how times change the unchangeable! There I was, happily ensconced in suburban leafy, Atlanta.

Julian, (Ju), was part of an up and coming rock outfit that was beginning to establish a name for itself state wide. At uni, and thereafter in London, we had played frequently in bands together - Ju was an amazing drummer and, I, as guitarist without compare (in Notting Hill Gate, at least,) our playing had a spark and intensity of great proportion and depth - imagine if you will, a youthful John McLaughlin and Billy Cobham, such was the nature of our interactive musical expression...

So, I passed several glorious and fun-filled weeks in Atlanta - venturing downtown, to historic sites as Martin Luther King Boulevard and catching the latest wow movie in town - the Elephant Man, with John Hurt. I became Ju's chauffeur whilst in town, driving around in his beat up 1950's V6 monster:

I befriended a young lady, Terri, who was an Americana collector and we spent several weekends checking out Americana fairs in and around Atlanta - we had a ball and later I persuaded her to drive down with me, back to New Orleans to check up on Richard - this was an unmitigated disaster, as upon arrival, I was piggy-in-the-middle between a needy old friend and an even needier new girlfriend.

Not being able to satisfy either of their needs to their satisfaction, I was forced to retreat back to Atlanta, as Terri needed to get back to work. On the way back, we stopped off at a motel in Montgomery, Alabama - site of not too distant race riots - a vey heavy and foreboding place indeed. As luck would have it, Terri's auto engine blew up 50 miles outside of Atlanta and we had to bus it back - an inauspicious end to a fatefully flawed voyage.

I had by now run out of funds and in typically American eighties style I stumbled on a couple of way-off-the-peg employment opportunities:

1. Extra in Canadian movie: ‘Hard Feelings' - this was an anti - war movie about a young Canadian draft dodger - whilst on the run in Atlanta, I was hired to play the part of, of all things an American G.I.!! Kitted out in full, authentic G.I. uniform, including dog tag, I strode around Atlanta like a true American Boy. On meeting me, the director, hearing my English accent, commented: "Whatever you do, do not open your goddarn mouth!" I spent 3 days filming/sitting on an unmoving greyhound bus - payment $100 a day, plus all I could eat - nice work if you can get it!

2. Shelf builder for a shoe designer in a shopping mall: This lasted just a few hours - payment: $50 + several snorts of cocaine; this was the one and only time I tried the stuff, which is just as well, as it was a fantastic buzz!! I remember just feeling...GOOD, and confident as hell, without a care in the world (for a very brief time..)

3. Marijuana harvester: This was possibly the scariest week of my life. Having agreed to venture out onto a remote Georgian farm, way out in the countryside near to Macon, Georgia, a farm close to the aptly named ‘Indian Grave Mountain' (height 585 metres,) I spent a week cleaning the most potent grass you could possibly imagine. Basically, the trick was to separate the flower (‘head') from the dross - the rest of the plant. It was only the flower that had real value. Upon arrival, I was given the bed nearest the door - we sneaked in like thieves in the night - I commented something on the lines of: "I hope the cops don't find us, they'll lock us up and throw away the key." I will never forget the amusement that caused my fellow harvesters: "Cops! It is the farmers in the next valley who you want to watch out for - if they discover what is going on here, they'll blow us all away in an instant!" Remember, I'd been given the bed nearest the door - that cheered me up no end... Anyway, I spent the next five or so days in a complete stoned haze, cleaning this stuff - payment - $500 and as much of the weed I could carry..

Thus ended my truly memorable transatlantic jaunt - a couple of days later I took off from Atlanta airport on a Delta Airlines flight to Heathrow, with about 2 lbs of prime Georgian weed stuffed down my pants (what a reckless fool I was in those days). Watch out for next visit in 1999 - cutting CDs and laying old ghosts to rest...

@l - 10/04/09

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no gain

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 12:57:02 GMT

on waking early this morning,

a new day brings with it

fresh winds and a natural spontaneity..

I bask in the melodrama

of autumnal beginnings..

I relish the ability to

face Life with grace and hope..

I breathe deeply of the novelty

within this unforeseen existence..

the not-knowing,

open to all possibility..

casting aside erudition and expectation,

cutting asunder cynicism and pre-emption..

where does this wind begin?

how beautiful the swaying of the trees,

losing so gracefully their summer's foliage..

I rise, to face a new day with no imagination,

relying solely on presence of Mind...

with bows of joy..

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purgatory

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 06:55:38 GMT

striving to meet the moment,

every aspect of physical existence

is torment..

reaching out to engage with the

pain that racks my body,

stinging fingers and toes,

rapid heartbeat - aching joints,

monstrous migraine - fevered thoughts

vile taste permeates inner core..

night time falls -

the darkness - each night lasts a lifetime:

tossing and turning,

striving to open to the message,

what is this?

day comes - light assumes

temporary relief..

I stride out through plaited countryside,

attempting to break through the barriers

of bodily incarceration..

I glean some measure of hope from

verdant foliage and glistening sunshine,

altho' still distant, in truth,

from touching what is real out there..

I reach vainly for that refuge of hope

within the outer limits of my patience

and understanding..

I pray that this episode will come

to a fortuitous close -

I regret my selfish indulgence,

yet strive relentlessly

to accept my bitter reality..

I vow to trust in the faith

that assures me redemption is at hand

yet struggle with this,

verily, struggle with this truth..

with bows

Tags:

joyous reprise

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Sun, 27 Sep 2009 07:20:30 GMT

to come back to the joy,

serenity and peace of regular

twice - prandial sitting

is indeed a blessing of

magnificent proportion!

once more, to open,

freely, wordlessly, mindfully..

once more to surrender small mind,

to absorb the universal principle:

emptiness of thought;

to merge into the vastness

of dissolution from perspective

and viewpoint..

I thank Life for granting me

this wondrous reprise,

and especially all you loving Sanga,

who, through your compassion and love

afforded me enormous courage and self belief..

I vow to live in harmony with each unfolding

moment in the loving light and bliss of

truth and wisdom,

knowing as I so do now

that this gift of consciousness

is but ephemeral and fleeting..

with bows to you all -

and boundless gratitude

for your warmth

and living beauty..

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freehold

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 19:41:55 GMT

ahh capricious providence..

what rhyme and intention therein?

so suddenly as dread malignancy appeared

within my startled and undefended frame,

hath it beat an hasty retreat..

a future - hitherto darkened,

the door closed, a bleak

unfathomable void filled my days..

within a heartbeat has Life been restored unto me -

wonder of wonders!

a prospect of uncharted potential

has seemingly been afforded me;

another chance to live,

to grow, to learn,

to love..

blessed relief indeed to be granted

absolution from an ignominious

parting of the ways!

some where within the pain and fear of the last

few months, is a grand lesson of stature,

enabling me to reflect and

extend on what may so easily have been..

another chance to dive deeply

into each precious moment

and give copious thanks for this

incredible reprieve...

with bows,

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so becoming

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 17:17:34 GMT

becoming whole,
becoming real,
becoming being..

being whole,
being real,
being IS becoming...

constructing..

piercing the shell of abstraction,
defying rationality,
opening to light, shade and darkness -
a revolving door of emotion.

transcending feeling,
burying the hatchet of circumstantial terror,
accepting pain, delight and incomprehension
in equal measure..
.

a human becoming,
a human, being..

Tags:

so being

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 17:54:21 GMT

amongst the gentlest of movements

I await the heralding of a new epoch..

an age free of pain,

apprehension and foreboding..

still - quiet as a church mouse,

I gather all into me,

I open - open to all that there is

at this very moment..

so being, truth ne'er as frightening

as anticipation, I wander freely

amidst the forest of my corporal internment..

agog at imaginings, prey to strange dreams

the trees themselves whisper hauntingly:

"take it as it is, brother, for there

is nothing other than this.."

gradually, imperceptibly

I grow like a cankered root into

full, untrammelled acceptance..

I know there is no thing to fear

‘cept the mind's transference:

little mind falling prey to nuance

and desperation..

and so - thus, I stumble on,

good days, bad days,

long days, longer days..

enmeshed all in wondrous ache

to be released- free from the

illusion of statements that hold no sway

in the eternal view of things,

with bows

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quiescence

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Tue, 01 Sep 2009 18:35:02 GMT

commanded by circumstance

to eke out a fallow period

for time being...

so contrary to my ineffable spirit,

this ‘invalid trek' through each day...

however, we can find solace in the mundane,

there is indeed glory in peaceful abiding,

the path of quiescence fulfils a part of us

that struggles not with ambition,

progress or movement,

save to tap into the gentle unfolding

of the hours passing, one into another,

no great fanfare, no surprises...

yet within the moment of no thing much,

lies a tangible sense of belonging,

a vulnerability of the human spirit,

quiet longing for peace of body and mind

that hugs and envelopes each waking moment

like a blanket of overriding comfort...

I cannot express too strongly the love

and yearning that emanates

from this encounter with mortality,

the care and hope arising from the mouths,

pens and softly fashioned scripts

of fellow beings who respond to others'

darker plights with sensitivity, dignity

and compassion...

with bows

Tags:

pareing down

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 14:27:27 GMT

stumbling out of a sea of pain,
my cankered eyes - wide brimmed
with hellish moisture,
project an eternal history
as a cast of chalken debris susurrates
‘cross my febrile brow..

pushed, tarrying with clenched fist,
to the very edge of reason and oftwhile
seemingly beyond..

this call to arms
has within its very essence
all that is most understood and feared
within its bounds
a world most real, new and
dread full..

ne’er felt with such intensity,
ne’er known the like of which betokens
such utter despair and puzzlement..

and yet -
the moment is but a circumstance..
cloven limbs succumb to softer pastures:
bounteous peace,
release coming in waves of ecstasy..

the truth – all moments cease, weave in
and out, endlessly..

holding steadfast, now not even ‘reason’ thereto,
and yet, letting go of pain and fright,
one grows..

one grows and adopts the scope of the
encumbered traveller for whom
no rest is there,
no peace travails,
hoping gainst hope that the final act
will be most merciful and succour
to the unending movement that is fleet...

with bows,

Tags:

facing up

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 08:21:35 GMT

there… it’s out..
an unassailable reality;
serious malady
threatens the core
of my existence…

foreign bodies
inhabiting my inner frame
eking out a conqueror’s path,
vying for supremacy.

bring it on, says I
bring it on!

for these circumstances
are never accidental
more method in Life’s vicissitudes
than meet the eye..

I know, deep within my very core
that this is yet one more fresh challenge to
prove my faith in Life’s bounty..

I rise above the fear
of annihilation, pain, dissolution
and sit, content,
yeh, gladly within the mire of bedevilment,
with strong heart and good thoughts,
secure in the belief that the strength
of awareness and love conquers all…

thou mayest have my body, dull parasites,
but ne’er my soul, spirit and joy..

with bows,

Tags:

provenance

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 09:39:57 GMT

oh sapphire winds of provence!

jettisoned from dust strewn metropolis

into the azure pastiche of a mediterranean ether..

gladly do I lay my beleaguered frame

and tremulous mind

under the soporific glaze

of a southern sun..

leaving behind, albeit temporarily,

cares, concerns and ephemeral fears,

and enter into the spirit

of eternal repose under

a timeless sky

embracing beauty,

harmony and happiness

in equal measure..

I give silent thanks to

fate's messengers

for affording me this

gorgeous respite

from an inevitable foray into

the realities of a decaying

body that beckons

towards an uncharted abyss,

with bows.

Tags:

consecration

http://ntonilipski.gaia.com — Sat, 25 Jul 2009 16:21:53 GMT

buoyant in light,

inhaling heavenly ether,

basking in a resplendent radiance

that is the received love of fellow voyagers...

dispersal of self

into every nook and cranny,

every corner, crevice, hidden place

that could possibly be conceived...

Oh mysterious and tantalising Existence!

I never know what You are going to do next...

many faces, reflecting all that we hold

in our mind's eye, awe, fear

trepidation, thrall...

a serpentine alleyway

of unending expression and emotion...

yet within the heart of such commotion,

intangible, impeccable stillness

above - and beyond,

utterly transcendent...

I bow to you all who manifest

the love that feeds and completes,

nourishes and sustains,

I return a thousand fold your

blessings and hold you

close to my wearied bones...

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