6 Poems by Rayn Roberts @ the Seattle Star

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6 Poems by Rayn Roberts / The Seattle Star

Read The Seattle Star

The Seattle Star is a Neutron Bomb

 

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“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

 

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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.

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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

A Truth You May Have Forgotten

There is a moment before the sound the Great Om,
Before Siva turned on one foot
Before Krishna was blue and Tara green,
Before the making of Lucifer, the heavenly war
The gravity of heaven and the drifting fire of hell
Before the holy breath blew into Man
Before Adam’s dream of Eve
Before Cain lost his mind and the daughters of Cain
And the flood, before an angel spoke to Hagar
And Moses saw a home of honey, fire and blood

Before David hurled a stone
Before Isaiah spoke a word
Before Buddha under the Bodhi-tree

The slaughter of the innocent
The cry of the desert in a voice crying in the desert
Before the sorrow of Mary
Before a nail cut the hand of the Anointed
Before the wonder of Magdalene at the tomb
Before tongues of fire
Before the first stone struck Stephen
Before stigmata in Assisi
Before Allah save infant girls
In a message of mercy from Mohammed
Before Gandhi felt the heat of a gun
And the death of Martin gave an undying dream

There is a moment
Without motion
Before the memory of time

Offered like sunlight filtered through trees falls at your feet
It is like sound
Or light surrounding the body
A lilting melody of light
Before evil or good were ideas, that when you hear
Clears the past of pain
Reconciles history to love
And the One you felt did not exist
Is with you saying
“I have always loved you and always will.”
It is the still point at the center,
That moment you truly are, that moment is now

 

Duck

African American Writers Alliance Readings: Seattle Washington 2018

 

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Readings Worth Witnessing by the African American’s Writers Alliance Seattle, Washington 2018.                                               (Click Above)

 

  1. Sunday, June 10th Columbia City Library 2:00 p. m.
    4864 Rainier Avenue South
    “Getting Close and Personal with Kibibi Monie”
    Open Mic
  2. ​Monday   June 11th 7:00 p. m. Third Place Books
    5041 Wilson Avenue S 98118
    Open Mic
  3. Friday     June 15th 7:00 p. m.
    Humble Vine Wine Gifts
    824 SW 152nd St. Burien, WA 98166
    Open Mic 
  4. Sunday     July 8th Columbia City Library 2:00 p. m.
    4864 Rainier Avenue South
    Open Mic
  5. Monday, July 9th Third Place Books 7:00 p. m.
    5041 Wilson Avenue S 98118
    Open Mic
  6. Friday July 20th Humble Vine Wine Gifts 7:00 p. m.
  7. Open Mic 
    NO READING AT COLUMBIA CITY LIBRARY IN AUGUST
  8. Monday, August 13th Third Place Books 7:00 p. m.
    Open Mic
  9. Friday August 17th Humble Vine Wine Gifts 7:00 p. m.
    Open Mic

MORE COMING UP. Posting those when I know.

Get the latest AAWA Anthology–Voices That Matter, at most any reading . $15.00.

African American’s Writers Alliance

 

From Rilke’s Book of Hours

You, mountain,
Here since mountains began
slopes where nothing is built
Peaks that no one has named,

Eternal snows littered with stars,
Valleys in flower—

Do I move inside you now?
Am I within the rock
Like a metal that hasn’t been mined?
Your hardness
Encloses me everywhere

Or is it fear I am caught in?
The tightening fear
of swollen cities
in which I suffocate.

–Rainer Maria Rilke

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