a name that can be named is not the constant name

It is interesting to see how hypertext has gone from being a grand possibility to a never-finished chore. --Ted Nelson

[the tao/dao that can be told . . .] [tai chi] [book of change] [book of sand] [end of the internet]

Tuesday, January 10, 2006



Trying to reactivate a couple of aged blogs, but I'm receiving error messages whenever I attempt to update them. Posting here instead for now.

free flowing vol. 3 no.6 July 1976 page 10


Existence is beyond the power of words
To define:
Terms may be used but none of them are absolute.
In the beginning of heaven and earth there were no words,
Words came out of the womb of matter;
And whether a man dispassionately
See to the core of life
Or passionately
Sees the surface,
The core and the surface
Are essentially the same.
Words making them seem different
Only to express appearance.
If name be needed, wonder names them both:
From wonder into wonder
Existence opens.

I know I am deathless,
I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter's compass
I know I shall not pass like achil's carlacue cut with a burnt stick at night . . .
I exist as I am, that is enough,
If no other in the world be aware I sit content.
And if each and all be aware I sit content.
One world is aware and by far the largest to me, and that is myself,
And whether I come to my own to-day or in ten thousand or ten million years,
I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness I can wait.
My foothold is tenon'd and mortis'd in granite,
I laugh at what you call dissolution,
And I know the amplitude of time.
-Walt Whitman

Star Morals

Called a star's orbit to pursue
What is the darkness, star, to you?

Roll on in bliss, traverse this age-
Its misery far from you and strange.

Let farthest world your light secure.
Pity is sin you must abjure.

But one command is yours: be pure!
-Friedrich Nietzche

The Rose of Sharon
By the roadside
Was eaten by the horse.

A fallen flower
Returning to the branch?
It was a butterfly.

This dewdrop world
It may bew a dewdropo
And yet, and yet - -

The Half of Life

With yellow pears the country,
Brimming with wild roses,
Hangs into the lake,
You gracious swans,
And drunk with kisses
Your heads you dip
Into the hold lucid water.

Where, ah where shall I find,
When winter comes, the flowers,
And where the sunshine
And shadows of the earth?
Wall stand
Speechless and cold, in the wind
The weathervanes clatter.
-Friedrich Holderlin

Ah Sun-flower! weary of time,
Who countest the stops of the Sun,
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller's journey is done;

Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves and aspire,
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.
-William Blake

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