Penthouse and other conversations
This is not a house / but what pretends.
I am here nonetheless living / and life and my life fill this space
Life unfolds through different orders
There is tenderness amongst these words,
and I might wonder in the in-between
I just was not able to crowd out the thoughts
where holding, housing seems real.
that gruffness in the face of subterfuge, mine or ours.
Building has made things lie lifeless
I’ve been a builder of many things
and what has come to know these?
split myself –polarity of material plane
Something feigns to dwell and comes
as if one thing is better than another
nonetheless as if dwelling here abides.
confined within the designs of things.
Oh, the mis-take of it all. We borrow
No mistakes really whenever I see
and borrow such blurring until
resting is what is such that
little edge or distinction remains.
resting and restless find their joining.
I rest in the in-dwelling,
Yet I cannot be in without out
the in-dwelling needing no arrival.
coming and going are the same.
It is the departing, which lays waste
This one who departs and does not see –this
and waste again, as unsettling ensues.
song is for her to remind and restore her.
I dream of simpler forays
In the dream there is this dream too
the meeting in directness
one cannot be without the other –yet
where the purest movement speaks stillness,
their divide is what is not real –breathing
unlike the manipulation of reality taken on
now –All is beyond question welcoming
as second nature and even first.
the manifest as the poetry of it All.
I pause, considering ~ the in-dwelling remains
Still point / zero point
needing no artifice, climbs without effort
welcoming the manifest
and also falls with no aversion.
as the poetry of it All.