Close your eyes and the world opens

Calling a person ugly doesn’t make you any prettier,

Even your laughing audience will sense in themselves a fearful compassion for her…

What makes her ugly? And is the blame to her assigned?

She who missed the high gymnast’s beam of perfection,

The beam that has never known a single hand.

 

She ought to know better than to dress her head with her heart.

She ought to know better when to be careful and to stop.

She ought to know what makes her pretty,

And she ought to do those things.

Say they who know not a single reason for the look she brings.

 

Or that she saved another ugly girl,

By joining in her group.

That by making herself lowly,

She gave some ugly joy to a whole room.

 

A room full of ugly kids

With no reason to smile.

Could you ever hope to guess this by looking at her for awhile?

 

No.

So just listen.

Page 157

I felt a bead of light escape from my mouth and I almost lost my breath.
It's like I was speaking for heaven.

I was stopped by what I was saying.
A line behind the song before I could collect the feeling.

What was that?
And then it became clear, but no less profound,
That I was speaking for heaven.
And so for one worldly second.
I got to feel it too.

Calm not sluggish

I feel empty of all offense.
I feel heavy while I'm lying down.
Just right.
I feel like walking conspicuously slow on a warm day, in a cotton dress.
I thought I felt the sun sitting on my cheeks,
But I think the wind swept it away.
I wonder briefly where they went together.

I think I decided to feel this way today.
To feel calm.
To TAKE calm like it's mine.

And I feel like writing a poem.
So I am.

The world is sweet today.
Like a girl singing in an ice cream shop.

Old poems have new meaning.

I came to swing
& sing my past a song.
like last night.

But tonight there were 5 kids.
I did not sing.
Not to them.

They didn't need the songs
I had in mind.
They didn't need to hear me say:

"Don't let this summer slip away."

Because they had it.
in a headlock.
Not fighting it...
But playing with it.
Wrestling there,
in the sand.

This summer is theirs,
& it always will be.

Notes from the Hunger Banquet

I think it's worth noting that the opening prayer was given in Japanese, and that it was one of the most memorable prayers I ever felt.
Many people throw up their hands and say that hunger is a huge problem that will never be stopped, or advanced upon, but it can be. The poor are not helpless. They are hardworking, HOPEFUL, merely lacking in circumstance.
Belief, Faith, Hope, Charity: has the power of these four heroes ever been so underestimated? Progress hit no brick wall when we discovered the "new world". When we geographically quit expanding, we did not lose the opportunity to start over, to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps. We GAINED that power. We earned the means to become men of principle, rather than men of land. We earned the resources to help others, and not simply look out for ourselves. The pioneers are not extinct; they have found higher ground to conquer: humanity.
There is no "other" kind of people. There are no Americans and Africans and Arabs and Canadians. There are men and women and children, and dignity therein. Potential doesn't belong only to the rich. It is everywhere. In everyone. And there is power in those who believe that.
Let's change the world singing "Hare Krshna" and dancing and smiling.
Let's look back on our college years and be proud of what we were starting.

Then in closing:
"We pray that we will be able to carry these messages with us for the rest of our lives."

A poet was born in screaming.

As we created new paths in our minds,
Some extended down to our hearts.
We were seized by the thoughtful beating.
We were seized by a great feeling.

And then we were given a way to deal with this new place.
The place where adrenaline escapes from your eyes.
Where suddenly life is at midday.
We stood on our desks.

We passed our fingers over ceiling tiles.
We got into our best animal stance,
And yelled out the poetic beating.
Yawping on high.

We were maniacs for a second.
For just that moment, we were in all seriousness... SILLY.

We discovered release.
And we shared it.
We discovered yearning.
And it brought us to our passions.
We discovered barbarism.
And it brought us to peace and meaning.
We discovered what it means to be poets.
And it made us human.

We are now, more than ever.
And we will ever be more than we are now.