6 Poems by Rayn Roberts @ the Seattle Star

seattlestar_logobw-500x100

 

6 Poems by Rayn Roberts / The Seattle Star

Read The Seattle Star

The Seattle Star is a Neutron Bomb

 

5ee659a4f283b99433982bb05909fd62_original

“Look deeply at the big picture beyond revenge to compassion /  We are broken or someday will be, but still beautiful, broken / Kintsugi, it all depends on we put the pieces back together.” ~ from “These boys, These Men” by Rayn Roberts

Buseoksa Moon South Korea

Enough meditation, three a.m. earbuds Dream # 9
reading Merton’s Seven Story Mountain in stillness,
the temple bell shakes the universe, calling monks
to save all beings in hell, a cock crows in darkness.
A half moon spins the stars in a black pool forming
on land in sea the spirit dance unfolding nonetheless.
Do not count the cost, no one, nothing is ever lost.

In fitful sleep I wake to the apple autumn morning
dressing herself in crimson, grey, brown and gold.
There’s a bus to nowhere, somewhere I think home.
I feel the half moon human mind moving to fullness
asking clearly, “Will you stay with the solemn monks
Or return to mad electric nights of paradise in Seoul?”
Sleep walking dreamer that I am, I hesitate, can’t wait

To go back to a circle of friends, lovers I know, my bed
a dream-pond of incarnadine leaves sinking to rest,
the bell is tolling, calling, shaking me awake, I think
but it’s just the glaring city moon tapping on a window.

 

 

Rayn Roberts 2019

 

Rayn Roberts 2019

 

Korean Buddhism
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SXf_V18wQUhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SXf_V18wQU

Buesok Temple
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWpX6Rf_JuY&spfreload=1

“Dream #9” is the song by John Lennon

 

BDDG_Buseok_oct20_06

Dreaming The Old Man

Through slanting doors and broken windows
odd furniture in dim rooms

old books and roses rotting with age
I follow you,

charts and crumpled maps and paper
glitter like a lost hope–

Sudden sky and wide water
reeds along a shore

under a silver willow you call to the other side.

No limb or vine to hold my feet
my boyhood swept away

to a green recess of memory
nothing to pull me back

only rock and sand, sky and air bathed in amber light,

Peace, I am with you
looking in your old eyes, stretching out a hand

sinking in a river of night
transparent stones on the bottom of a lucid pool

I glide in bright shadows
fish swimming

in and out our one and separate selves

 

 

Green Lake Heron by Rob KasheyROB PICS 430

 

 

 

 

 

 

All Photos  by Rayn Roberts

Apparition by Rob Kashey

Apparition by RR

The Seattle Star is a Neutron Star

http://www.seattlestar.net/

Neutron Stars:

If a star has between 1.35 and 2.1 times the mass of the Sun, it doesn’t form a white dwarf when it dies. Instead, the star dies in a catastrophic supernova explosion, and the remaining core becomes a neutron star. As its name implies, a neutron star is an exotic type of star that is composed entirely of neutrons. This is because the intense gravity of the neutron star crushes protons and electrons together to form neutrons. If stars are even more massive, they will become black holes instead of neutron stars after the supernova goes off.

neutron star.jpg0894aa45-5480-4d3b-8453-6296a14be025Larger

This is a neutron star. The rings around the star represent the high intensity magnetic field lines. Neutron stars are typically only about 12 miles long but contain more density then a hundred suns.

Mother Star…

Father Star : E W. Scripps..

New Born Star

E_W_Scripps

Gun Violence and Other Madness

The cat chases its tail, the dog whimpers in sleep,
The heart skips a beat…
It’s not a nightmare, not a movie, a TV show.

Wake when yoeu will, but where will you be, in bed alone,
In the den, your unknowing hand holding a gun,
At your desk starting at nothing?
It doesn’t matter— Looking deeply matters:

Unless you turn it inside out, look long at what you find
The mind eludes the eye of reason.
Recall the flowers of betrayal and delusion with merciful disregard,
Struggle all your life to save this dying thing
This beaten, bloody thing called love.

For the tail is chasing the dog,
The cat is barking in sleep, the heart is cracking
Hope is a Gypsy song rising over the ash of Auschwitz

Mad Men rule the world—
And if they wake from a coma of hate, will they give a vision truth?
Will they feed the poor, give up peace?
When will your heart slow to a murmur and hiss into silence?

I want to say the cat is calm, the dog is happy,
Humankind is wise and kind,
But the cat is gnawing the cage, the dog is humming a dirge,
The good flower columbine was never a flock of doves:

Littleton, Kosovo, Dachau, Wooded Knee, Santa Fe, Noblesville, Dayton, El Paso, Odessa,
Large extensions of the fist we use to abuse the children.

Where next the murder of the day, massacre of the week?

The heart is failing, the heart is failing, there are no known donors