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Found 16 results

  1. In the now

    riding the never-ending-change-wave, i find myself here interested in yijing, qigong, taiji, art, poetry, theatre, zen, dao and like-minded stuff going to wall-flower a bit to watch the dance and feel the breeze till i have something to say best wishes and peace and thank you for having me
  2. Ovid

    Its been a long time since I read any Ovid . I did recently and was reminded why I like it so much , so I have started at 'the beginning' Here is an example from the section on The Great Flood ; " [283] And Neptune with his trident smote the Earth, which trembling with unwonted throes heaved up the sources of her waters bare; and through her open plains the rapid rivers rushed resistless, onward bearing the waving grain, the budding groves, the houses, sheep and men,—and holy temples, and their sacred urns. The mansions that remained, resisting vast and total ruin, deepening waves concealed and whelmed their tottering turrets in the flood and whirling gulf. And now one vast expanse, the land and sea were mingled in the waste of endless waves—a sea without a shore. [293] One desperate man seized on the nearest hill; another sitting in his curved boat, plied the long oar where he was wont to plow; another sailed above his grain, above his hidden dwelling; and another hooked a fish that sported in a leafy elm. Perchance an anchor dropped in verdant fields, or curving keels were pushed through tangled vines; and where the gracile goat enjoyed the green, unsightly seals reposed. Beneath the waves were wondering Nereids, viewing cities, groves and houses. Dolphins darting mid the trees, meshed in the twisted branches, beat against the shaken oak trees. There the sheep, affrayed, swim with the frightened wolf, the surging waves float tigers and lions: availeth naught his lightning shock the wild boar, nor avails the stag's fleet footed speed. The wandering bird, seeking umbrageous groves and hidden vales, with wearied pinion droops into the sea. The waves increasing surge above the hills, and rising waters dash on mountain tops. ..... "
  3. I have been reading about getting work through Barefoot Writers. I don't know anything about them and I am only a mediocre writer. So, I am interested in other peoples experiences, in all types of reading and writing adventures, hopes, failures, etc.
  4. the poet drinks by moonlight

    with the grey ghosts with red eyes until he pukes he spits and cusses at the birds he pisses anywhere he feels to leak he kicks down doors seeking the face of his god denying his existence with venomous word and dead thought he shoots for the stars anywhere he can find a vein he wastes away in a green haze you seen god he’s the flasher on the corner the priest who is waiting the killer stalking prey the deer shot in the heart what fool would chase his own ass the donkey wants the carrot not until he stops does it swing his way then a bus hits him one day the poetic bum fell down hard laying there in the grass a child sang a song a flower bloomed dogs barked and for once the poet truly saw through bloodshot eyes and a bitchin headache how much he hated life how much he hated that song when would it all stop this is the best it gets the way is no way when you try to leave you always arrive again the poet drinks by moonlight and always ends up where he last felt his heart beat
  5. Meaning? Old text

    Is there any one here that knows what this means: A voice that is not a voice that happens rarely but, when it does, it is clear as a bell with words that are more than language yet, perfectly understood. It comes forward in times of great need. It is completely different than thoughts, voices or conscience.
  6. Live Spoken Word with Music

    Hi everyone! It has been a little bit since I have been on here. I wanted to share with you a spoken word event I did recently:
  7. Motion in Stillness There’s motion in stillness The old master said As the student stood steadfast A million thoughts racing through his head As he stood steadfast holding the pose his mind churning frantically and his anxiety rose he stood for five minutes every nerve screaming in pain he said to himself No never! Never ever again But such is the the lot Of folks of his kind Once something enters It doesn’t exit his mind So he stood again the next and the day after that and everyday since that day in an unseemly half squat As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months what used to bring tears hardly even made him grunt Then one day he realized his mind had become still and his thoughts fell to the bottom like an ungainly swill what remained afloat was a crystal clear thing it was bereft of everything yet it wasn’t nothing Then the motion he noticed rose from its depth it was the movement of spirit it floated and leapt Then he remembered what the old master said there’s motion in stillness and it’s not the junk in your head
  8. The Love Paintings

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  10. Random Haiku Thread

    rather than chaining them all together, or waiting until the chain offers an opening for your inspired haiku, post 'em here! Ham Led Salami. Those words are an anagram; I am mad as hell.
  11. My writings from 4 years ago, put together into an anthology. I viewed the link yesterday and was amazed how many people have seen it. I am sharing it here with TaoBums community, hopefully I can get some more readers. leonbasin.weebly.com/3/post/2012/12/december-26th-2012.html Thank You, Leon
  12. Finally created a Tumblr Account!

    Finally created a Tumblr account. I hope to start blogging a lot more: http://leonbasin.tumblr.com/
  13. New Poem: "Delight of Light."

    Delight of Light Easy distinguished words of laughter Pure lighting stroke the keys A beauty gleamed and opened up the treasures So birds could chirp happily The sunshine beamed into the casket As body decomposed from grace But mastery overcame the smiles As grins lit up the room All the members of the family Exulted from the passing of a member Because wisdom was passed without a trace Their hearts opened up the chanting With an exuberant laughter and cake Pleasure composed to bring gratification As gentle heat warmed up their bellies Cheers and delight became a second coming As their hands went up in jubilation Day was frozen still… Leonid (Leon) Basin http://www.leonbasin.weebly.com
  14. There was a time I fought against poetry in the Contributed Article section because I thought it diluted from 'real' articles. Poems are great, but articles are supposed to be long thoughtful stand alone pieces of writing, done without the expectation of discussion. Poems have become the norm and well written solid articles are pushed down pages as people express there poetic license. The lesson may be you can't stop the poets. They're like graffiti artists, but maybe we can create a subforum in articles and move the bulk of poems there!! What do you think? Michael 'Get off my Lawn' thelerner