Friday, July 31, 2009

Moonlight Sunyata (New Poem with Poet's Comment)

Moonlight Sunyata
by Tim Kavi

On the verge
Nothingness
did shine and emerge
in the wings
of your love

until Being
brought to the brink
existence
did burn and whither
seeking a drink
in the desert of being

there was happiness
a memory
singing to each other
kissing
under the stars
in the moonlight

in a lonely universe
I've forgotten it
in the bliss
of enlightenment

until shining
in a present wakefulness
we walked into
the meadows
of who we were

saw the sight
in each other
burning in the light
of night

until dancing
with each other
our love was made
full and complete
fashioned in dust
fully we meet

there was no more
yearning
for we saw
ourselves
impermanent in the happy void.

Poet's Note: This poem captures the fine line between Being and Nothingness. It is about loving in the Present moment while encountering ourselves as impermanent and Void. Note the use of the Buddhist term 'Sunyata' the concept and often perplexing issue of the Buddhist doctrine of impermanence. Itself a step towards enlightenment and aptly explained by the Buddhist sage Nagarjuna. Note also in Stanza two, the overall concept of Being (with a captal B), is encountered in the temporal world of our own being (uncapitalized b). The title of this poem is a tongue in cheek play of words on the Beethoven piece 'Moonlight Sonata' a nice bit of music for our celestial couple to dance under the moonlight and spell of their joint existence!--T.K.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Goddess of the Lake (Poem)




Goddess of the Lake
by Tim Kavi

riding across
the plains
responding
to the urgent
call

Urgent
she is calling me
calling me
with her feminine
voice

across
snow capped mountains
in the high
and holy place

no one explains
to me anything

is it in
the eagle's crying?
or angel's wings
that her love
is flying?

I need her help
for I cannot bear
but called to her
in that sacred prayer

I am lifted up
to join her there

onward
I ride
through the
moonlit night
across the
valleys of her bed

she is waiting
dressed only
in her love
in the place
where mountains bled

there is no more
crying
only our love
guides us
and rescues us
from dying

and in that
redemption
even at

Mount Kailash
and
Lake Manosaravar

52 kilometers
and three days
and nights
in the belly
of that place
we are not very far

For I am filled
with your love

then
I am waiting
and seeking
your face

in the tent
in your arms
veiled one

I see you are the Lake
sweet Parvati

where Milarepa
Noro Bon-Chung
fought
You were
the watching
one

Sipaimen

I circled around you
there

in the mountain
I am redeemed by you
and in the lake
You stand and
sit
and care
for me

for You are the
goddess of the lake.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

The Pretty One (Poem with Poet's Comment)

The Pretty One
by Tim Kavi


smiling
her heart
beamed
from the realm
of souls

she knew
hard times
many have
but the road
she journeyed on
was more than
narrow

it was a precipice
where she had
been dangling
hanging on
for dear life

her happiest
moments were
always
moments away
from strife

but her love
knew no limits
and her songs
were always
full of meaning

when she sang
people listened
when she kissed
it was with her
whole heart

her flowers
pets and kids
were around her

but
life was momentary
to be redeemed
minute by minute

and lucky I was
to have known her love
even for a second

for in her
suffering
she gave to everyone
and was the most
kind

woman

yes she was
the prettiest
one

the greatest
benefactor
bodhisattva
to the lost
and suffering

Yes
she was
the pretty one.

Poet's comment: Yes this poem is an amalgam; however, it is mostly about a specific woman I once dated while I was a grad student in college. She was also a grad student, but in music. She had been classically trained in Europe, and was an outstanding musician. She was wonderful. Before I met her, she had a hard life. She had tried to commit suicide by jumping off a freeway overpass. She lived through that and had to undergo a number of surgeries after that in the early 1980s. During the surgeries she required blood transfusions. It was just during the discovery of AIDS. She acquired AIDS through one of the transfusions. It was truly tragic. Later the illness took her life.--T.K.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Fresh Ceiling Paint (Poem with Brief Poet Comment)


Fresh Ceiling Paint by Tim Kavi

Each day's hues
danced in the flickering
candle light
as the lover
of his creation
fell asleep in the
gathering night

intricate eyes
for detail
had guided
artistic hands
in complex
patterns of reaching
across clouded skies

perfected in
the craft
of a master
with a facial grin

until the beauty
was seen
through the windows
a peaceful sheen

calling to ascend
the lonesome artist
painted through
winter's wind.

Brief Poet Comment: This poem is about perseverance in the artistic process. As I was writing it I visualized Michelangelo working on the ceiling at the Sistine chapel. The backbreaking work (literally lying flat on scaffolding), the dogged determination, the sacred art, left for the world to enjoy many years hence. Hence, it is : 'Fresh Ceiling Paint'.--T.K