Saintliness and Sin

   

Saintliness and Sin

 

Is it possible, within the city's

Bustle, to be quiet—

To walk or sit in peace amidst

The clamor of the riot?

 

I had often tried to do this, tried to

Slow from moving fast—

To pause and breathe and gather in—

Although this didn’t last.

 

And though one thing or other

Would come and prick my bubble,

If I’d ever stalled within this,

I could be in bigger trouble.

 

To disengage from madnesses

Of fear or scorn or rage

Invites, alas, no kindnesses

From those who still engage. 

  

Within a mass hysteria,

As in a mad stampede,

Whoever tries to slow or stop

Is trampled well indeed!

  

******

 

There’s the yin within the yang and there's

The yang within the yin.

So day and night can alternate

And saintliness and sin.

 

And so I laugh when fit to cry

And weep as I am smiling.

I venture out in stormy rain

And run in when it’s shining.

 

I listen to our “enemies”,

I question all our wars

And hum my verse to Venus when

The others sing to Mars.

 

I see the sides to everything

As often as I can.

I see the Muslim in the Jew,

The woman in the man.

 

But still I cannot slow enough,

Within the rush we’re in,

To be at peace as wars abound—

Be clear amidst the sin.

 

2025 Nov. 13, Thu.

(4th, 5th, & last 2 quatrains, Nov. 19)

Berkeley, California

 

Dukkher Bhar-দুঃখের ভার-The Weight of Woe-2024-08-17+24

 
দুঃখের ভার 

 
খাবারের মধ্যে কত রকম স্বাদ! 
তেতোটাও খেতে হয়, কিছু পরিমাণে—
বেশিতে বিষ, কমে স্বাস্থ্যকর।
বাকি স্বাদের খাদ্যের ক্ষেত্রেও তাই।

 
জীবনের নিমন্ত্রণে, কত কিছু পাতে পড়ে!
সুখ চেখে, দুঃখ গিলতে হয়। 
এতেও সুষমতা চাই, তবে কারোর
ক্লেশের ভারে পেয়ালা ভেঙ্গে যায়।

  
শনিবার, ১৭ আগস্ট, ২০২৪ খ্রিস্টাব্দ
বার্ক্লি, কালিফোর্নিয়া

------------------------------------------------------------

The Weight of Woe

 

Within the foods we eat, how many tastes!

The bitters must be taken too, in turns--

Excesses poison, traces good for health.

The same is true for foods of other tastes.

 

How many fares can fall upon our plates!

We taste our bits of pleasure, swallow pains.

A balance would be good. For some, alas--

The weight of woe can break and shatter plates.

 

Sat, 17th August, 2024

(translated Sat, 24th Aug)

Berkeley, California

Balance

.
Balance
.
In everything we do, there is a need
For balance. Each of us is graced by this:
A sense, in part innate, of balance points
And also of our distances from these.
Our acts and lives are guided by this sense.
.
And surely much depends on circumstance,
And varies with the person and the clan,
But when we move away from balance, then
We almost always yield to yin or yang 
And so disturb whatever peace there was
Within us and around us, causing grief
That could at times be lethal, yet not end,
As utter madness blinds and overwhelms
Constraints of ethics and of common sense.
.
Affection, anger, fear, desire have each 
Their places in our lives. Excess of each—
Or paucity—can lead to endless woes.
So also, reason has its rightful place,
But not the logic that neglects the heart. 
.
So how is balance lost—and how regained?
We each have senses, starting with the five
We learn about in school, but not confined
To those alone. By shutting down a sense
For reasons of our own, we lose the touch
And input needed to correct ourselves—
Connections with the world “outside” those selves
And also with the “inner world within”.
It is as if we've turned away from sight. 
.
We need to then regain the senses lost—
And this takes courage and can cause us pain
That must be borne, so we are born again—
Ejected from the wombs we crept back in
To face the world—with all its light and sin.
.
2024 June 27th, Thu.
Berkeley, California
.

Virtues-2022 October

 
Virtues (2022 October)
 
We rarely hear, in the media,
Or even homes or schools,
About the virtues. Those who dwell
On these are seen as fools.
 
And yet, throughout our history,
However torched with grief
From humans harming humans, these
Were part of our belief.
 
What substitutes for decency—
For being of help when needed,
For being honest, diligent,
Attentive, brave—and patient?
 
Knowledge helps—and ignorance
Impedes, but wisdom’s art
Consists of seeing deeper, through
the “sights” of mind and heart.
 
It does not matter “who” we are—
Our “races”, faiths or creeds—
The wealth we have or lack of it.
What matters are our deeds—
 
And also words—that issue from
The feeling and the thought.
Our words and deeds are shaped by these,
Informed by what we’re taught,
 
Combined with “instincts” that we have –
Capacities within—
That grow, as we discern and act,
And lead to “good” or “sin”.
 
******
 
Fear and anger, love and hate,
Fairness and compassion—
Hunger in its many forms,
And greed and lust and passion—
 
These rise from drives and feelings that
We all possess—and need.
But there’s a range and balance, which
We each should sense—and heed.
 
When anger lasts and turns to hate,
Or hunger turns to greed—
When fear becomes anxiety, then
It’s time to pause the “feed”.
 
Awareness of ourselves is what
Is often dulled, neglected.
What others “are” should also be
Discerned—and then respected.
 
And that is where a discipline,
That’s gentle, serves as well.
This helps to curb excesses, when
We’re deaf to the warning bell.
 
An infant throws its tantrums. So
It gets, perhaps, its way.
An older child should realize
That others too have say.
 
And here again, the virtues, which
Were listed at the start,
Can guide us in the words and deeds
That come from mind and heart.
 
2022 October 11, Tue.
Brooklyn, New York
 

Wisdom-II

Wisdom-II 

When I was young, l always yearned
For knowledge.  Now I understand
That knowledge, needed though it is,
Needs wisdom as its guiding hand.

Around us, we can plainly see
That knowledge is a needed tool.
And yet, what use is knowledge when
It’s used in service to a fool?

And even if our bosses had
The knowledge that they often lack,
Without the needed wisdom, they
Can act in ways that set us back.

If wealth and power are the aims
Of those who buy the knowledge needed,
Then wars and famines are their games,
As those who’re dying go unheeded.

Our primal goals are always set
By instincts and by feelings, so
Our knowledge and our logic then
Can merely tell us how to go.

But where and why?  Such questions need
Some wisdom and humility.
If hubris and expedience reign,
The harvest is futility.

There is a wisdom of the heart—
An organ that is in the mind—
That balances what’s in the head
And steers us towards being kind.

Is wisdom knowledge in gestalt?
That could be so.  It cannot be
Divided into parts, no more
Than that which tethers you to me.

There are more things, as Shakespeare wrote,
Than in our neat philosophies.
The mess that can’t be analyzed
Is life itself, not just disease.

Get rid of it, and life will end.
Analysis has a rightful place,
But when we love, we do not wait
To analyze the heart or face.

There is a balance that is sensed
Between our logic and our heart.
And that’s a thing that can’t be taught
As science.  It’s a deeper art.

To err is being.  Our ideal
Might be a thing that does not err.
But such a thing cannot create.
And that’s a theorem I infer.

2018 July 19th, Thu.
Brooklyn, New York
------------------------------------------
 
Related:
https://thedailypoet.blogspot.com/2018/04/for-me-and-you.html

https://thedailypoet.blogspot.com/2015/11/ignorance.html

As Trees Stood Waiting

As Trees Stood Waiting

As Winter neared its end, I saw a tree,
Denuded, waiting patiently for Spring,
With limbs outstretched towards the white and blue
And towards that sun in which the trees delight.

It was the sun that whispers of the time
When roads will shimmer in the summer's heat,
And leaves will flutter as the branches sway
In pleasant breezes blowing from the sea.

And as I stood and squinted at the sky,
I saw the balance and the grace in trees,
Whose trunks and branches reach towards the light,
As roots we cannot see dig downward, deep.

I looked awhile in wonder and in awe
At this—this beauty on the city's street,
And then resumed my walking towards the train,
As trees stood waiting, near to Brooklyn's shore.

2018 April 9th, Mon. afternoon
D train from Brooklyn to Manhattan
 

Futility-II

Futility-II

When sense and nonsense are so intermixed
That their untangling isn't worth our while,
We either then can make yet more of knots,
Or else can shake our heads and sadly smile.

So wisdom here resides in prudence, yet,
Too often, we attempt such tasks in vain—
For being mortals, we in time forget
And so repeat our errors once again.

And so it is with much that dogs our days,
As lessons we should earlier have learned
Appear to us as new, and so we make
The same mistakes and yet again are burned.

So some are not content with peace and try
To then procure such things as lead to war.
And those of wisdom and of heart may cry
Out loud—but cannot change how humans are.

Futility!  We meet you, by and by,
No matter what our gifts or fortunes be.
And some may meet you early, others late,
But you are always there, for those who see.

******

And yet, too easily, your children turn
To refuge in your bosom, spurning those
Who seek redress or cure for all the things
That need addressing in this world of woes.

They might have found, instead of you, that Hope
Or Faith or Courage that have given birth
To all endeavors that had sought for light
Amidst the darkness of afflicted Earth.

And let us pray that there's a balance still
Between that prudence that might save our lives
And that rebellion that is needed when
We find ourselves constrained in manmade hives.

You are the earth to which we all descend—
The dust that fills the mouths of those who die
As they are felled in battlefields or beds.
And yet, I draw my breath and say, “You lie.”

2017 November 26th, Sun.
Brooklyn, New York
  

Balance and Delusion

Balance and Delusion
 

https://grassrootsyoga.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/balance-akt.jpg

Our pleasures may enliven us
And pain could make us dull.
But pleasure, pain are needed, both.
Their sum is never null.

So when we’re robbed of pleasure and
Of joy, we might complain.
Yet wisdom comes from suffering
And empathy from pain.

Within our lives, we might find joy.
We surely will find sorrow.
But grief can give us depth, and woe
Today is light tomorrow.

There might be times when we rely
On faith and hope alone.
And yet the dark despair is when,
For sins, we might atone.

******

We could survive in the hardest times—
But fail when times are slack.
So soldiers might, in battles, surge—
And then, in peace, fall back.

Civilians die in droves in wars
In these, our modern times.
But where those wars have ended, still
The bell of karma chimes.

When food is scarce, but still in reach,
We seek—and so subsist.
But when there is surfeit of it,
Our minds and bodies list.

We starve from lack of nourishment
And die from its excess.
We strive for more of this and that—
Yet thrive when we have less.

There is a balance that we need
That Nature once provided.
But now we need a discipline,
By which we might be guided.

******

So some are helpless, forced to work.
They slave, until they sicken.
But some, who need no longer work,
Might then, by this, be stricken.

We find ourselves within a crowd—
And seek relief from this.
But then we find that solitude
Is often far from bliss.

Our children need our firmness, yet
They need us to be kind.
The middle way is often best—
But often hard to find.

We feel that we are ignorant
And so we try to learn.
But then our knowledge causes mind
And heart to fret and burn.

Our knowledge may be useful, both
For evil as for good.
So bodies may be healed by it—
Or burned like kindling wood.

*******

Some spend their years in search of love
Or sex or both and find
The one cannot be sought, the other
Snares the hapless mind.

We work to earn our living and
We work to be secure.
But then we meet the ailments that
Our money cannot cure.

We thirst for recognition, yet
May find that it’s a curse.
And I could carry on, for more—
But now should end my verse.

So I will end. Too little love
Can wound; too much can spoil.
And so it is with everything,
Including rest and toil.

2017 October 24th, Tue.
Berkeley, California
  

Love's Labor Lost--Broverbs for Valentine's Day

Love's Labor Lost?
(Broverbs for Valentine's Day)
    
We can sit and scribe our verses
From now until we die,
But who, if asked to read them,
Will find a reason why?
 
We can sow our seeds of wisdom--
And weep, that all our toil
Was wasted, since the seedings
Were all on barren soil.
 
We can spend our waking lifetimes
In struggles, pay the cost
From what we left neglected,
Yet see our labors lost.
 
We can teach and we can nurture;
We can fuss, as carers must.
We can build, with patience, structures--
And see them turn to dust.
  
****** 
  
So when we're in the twilight,
With darkness drawing near,
We then might slow from slaving
And pause to shed a tear.
  
But then it's time to wipe it
And wistfully to smile,
For if, with heart, we labored,
It was surely worth our while.
 
And if some satisfaction,
Some pleasure in the task,
For a year or for an instant,
Was ours--what's left to ask?
 
Let's leave what's past to others,
And what's to come to fate.
The present time is precious
And not for waste in hate.
  
****** 
  
There's joy in our creations,
However small they be.
We bring them through gestations
And then we set them free.
 
Like children, they may flourish.
Like seedlings, they may die.
How many are our hatchlings--
How few will live to fly?
 
We seek for recognition.
A smidgen should suffice.
We warm our hands with praises--
For soon, we'll meet with ice.
  
Our children may be stolen.
With broken hearts, we cry.
But if we know they're tended,
With souls content, we die.
  
******
  
We labor for the joy of it.
We labor for our bread.
We labor for the smile we get,
From duty and from dread.
  
And when we shirk our labor,
We're often in torment.
Some say they live for pleasure,
Yet rarely are content.
  
Our lives are often muddles.
What hubris, then, to say
It's pleasure, love or duty
Or work that clears the way.
 
We can live for just this instant;
We can live for what we lost;
We can live to build the future.
In each, there's always cost.
  
******
 
And those, who're truly humble,
Of their virtues, might be proud,
But equally, of those failings
That they rarely speak of loud.
 
For those, who see no failings
In themselves, are surely blind,
And those, who see them clearest,
Are souls of deepest mind.
 
A vice that's partly conquered
Is like a foe defeated;
It's best to leave it extant,
Lest hubris be repeated.
  
The greatest pride of humans,
We're told, is that of pride.
Yet pride, in honest labor,
Is a lion each can ride.

****** 
 
In all things, there's a balance;
There's yang that waits in yin.
Too little--and we're tortured;
Too much--and we're in sin.
    
What's savored best at leisure
Is rarely sensed in haste.
Who never knows of hunger,
Can scarcely know of taste.

So too, a length of failure
Lends flavor to success.
And each is best, not scanty
But neither in excess.
   
Let's take what we are given--
And that, with gratitude.
Why pine for what was owed us?
We owe, in plenitude.
 
2016 February 14th, Sun.
Brooklyn, New York