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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 5 of 5. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by obsidian on December 1, 2010, at 23:19:06
pastoral counseling
how could you understand?
protect me, respect me
if God was all you knew?
there is no higher power here
just a blankness and an aching
without meaning, without reason
you're so very far away
I don't know you
I can't show you
all my fears, cause it's been years
it's all I am, and you're a sham
Posted by sigismund on December 4, 2010, at 17:25:35
In reply to ****faith trigger***, posted by obsidian on December 1, 2010, at 23:19:06
I picked up this book of poems by Miyazawa Kenji "A Future of Ice Poems and stories of a Japanese Buddhist".
Since you mention religion here is one of his.....
The Snow on Saddle Mountain
The only thing you can count on
is the snow on the string of Saddle Mountain peaks.
The fields and the woods
look either frowzy or dulled
and you can't count on them at all,
so, although it's really such a yeasty,
opaque blizzard,
the only thing that sends faint hope
is Saddle Mountain
(this is one old fashioned religion)And here is
Wind and Resentments
Ponderous in fox-fur,
you snatch from the wind such ridiculous resentments,
things that look like brass plates,
and throw them at me;
can't you see I'm hurrying
along the pine road in the snow
and the ruddy cypresses lined up in the graveyard are watching,
I don't have enough time to respond to them one by one.
Ha!
in the cold wind over the town
a black smoke flows, flows.
Posted by obsidian on December 4, 2010, at 21:41:53
In reply to Re: ****faith trigger*** » obsidian, posted by sigismund on December 4, 2010, at 17:25:35
those are beautiful sig :-)
I Do Not Speak
I do not ask for mercy for understanding for peace
And in these heavy days I do not ask for release
I do not ask that suffering shall cease.I do not pray to God to let me die
To give an ear attentive to my cry
To pause in his marching and not hurry by.I do not ask for anything I do not speak
I do not question and I do not seek
I used to in the day when I was weak.Now I am strong and lapped in sorrow
As in a coat of magic mail and borrow
From Time today and care not for tomorrow.
Posted by obsidian on December 4, 2010, at 21:44:24
In reply to Re: ****faith trigger***, posted by obsidian on December 4, 2010, at 21:41:53
Not Waving but Drowning
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.Stevie Smith
Posted by sigismund on December 17, 2010, at 15:14:55
In reply to Re: ****faith trigger***, posted by obsidian on December 4, 2010, at 21:44:24
I always go to the religious observances in the countries I visit, although doubts immediately arise about whether I wish to extend that interest to the Anglosphere.
Anyway, we went to one here. We rode our bikes to a bar and had some hot sake and then to this place along a walkway covered with trees someway down from the temple or shrine, I don't know which. It didn't sound like Buddhism to me. More like a fertility ritual to guarantee the harvest. The young god is to be awakened by young girls, and while I prefer my young gods to be more polymorhous perverse, still I found the idea of the young god being woken by girls very attractive. We waited till midnight when it started and eventually you could see the flames and later could see that they were from these burning aromatic branches that dragged along the ground leaving a trail of red hot cinders, keeping out the evil spirits. Then we heard a moaning and something higher, a kind of woodland noise I felt, and people dressed in white with partially covered faces passed in front of s making this strange ghostly noise, and after that people with some kind of flutes which in the tone they made reflected the cry of the deer and other woodland animals. And then the crowd of thousands fell in behind them reverently as if in church, not drunkenly as it would be in Australia. And at the appointed place they went through the freezing air to watch the actual ceremnony, but we went home. Enough of the Christian remained in me to say of this 'Pure superstition'.Writing this on a Japanese keyboard is murder.
This is the end of the thread.
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