Solid Quarter

Visit Trembling Pillow Press for poetry books, broadsides, chapbooks, and Solid Quarter Magazine.

Visit New Orleans Poetry Fest for the annual 4 day poetry festival directed by Bill Lavender and Megan Burns.

Megan Burns' Poeticsofbone&city project on Tumblr



Showing posts with label energy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label energy. Show all posts

Thursday, September 12, 2019

Palindrome

Palindrome
9.12.19
for kia

every morning you should write a love poem

poem love
a write
should you
morning,

every? 

should you
every, love,
morning write
a poem

a morning write
should you love
every poem

you should love
a poem every
morning

write?

love should write
a you, poem,
every morning

every morning poem
you love
write, a should

should you
write
love, a poem
morning every


you should morning love a poem every write






what number did the angel use to seek you? 


355  870  133  775  753  566  282  171  965  822  696  715  154  895  927  771  684  550  356  565
932  989  336  497  820  416  315  131  686  750  525  316  955  959  873  578  477  688  821  995
735  943  185  103  611  627  233  261  124  700  877  522  727  546  264  441  496  215  458  290
183  246  618  337  751  528  141  852  690  600  675  108  487  351  681  695  899  320  580  115
245  461  208  174  532  621  456  140  277  651  499  248  311  904  772  354  447  663  473  847
967  990  393  722  813  866  346  377  843  533  417  739  177  896  340  120  291  117  789  335
478  790  906  871  762  958  628  349  395  366  142  227  226  457  938  710  322  644  770  429
396  155  902  331  260  428  308  844  431  293  257  270  236  805  179  923  662  845  405  608
603  629  919  723  526  448  827  223  828  485  266  388  930  123  319  310  987  195  803  279
741  924  188  484  613  423  357  323  614  504  848  701  914  856  719  606  897  918  892  505
950  386  647  152  370  984  199  328  341  620  779  894  851  518  454  471  730  883  451  880
229  106  841  243  687  632  280  846  714  400  952  352  304  609  493  591  523  816  307  720
655  520  693  556  105  839  369  838  379  954  633  773  203  292  391  449  373  228  898  707
214  963  219  362  810  186  945  666  438  469  691  854  692  850  235  855  782  713  808  656
859  234  778  398  798  865  561  957  110  202  491  285  562  437  756  180  480  401  255  860
474  410  376  784  187  537  463  858  475  125  982  677  911  817  347  853  541  928  975  212
740  205  101  729  702  161  929  494  258  381  953  517  733  409  317  909  757  824  664  809
433  136  793  711  112  116  616  165  903  942  683  263  278  143  800  232  888  747  462  960
348  425  209  586  242  863  623  330  879  799  834  399  534  146  721  570  359  705  640  163
978  819  139  519  658  669  749  634  931  776  508  785  645  926  238  435  387  509  725  842
881  465  222  483  986  151  382  917  275  442  685  312  450  411  305  599  976  601  670  436
849  993  127  657  737  907  390  887  138  626  833  786  563  743  466  157  806  540  549  755
792  758  811  974  893  372  642  126  130  221  198  309  840  624  213  588  774  678  225  940
639  527  343  302  502  905  415  889  668  251  397  718  470  602  543  196  832  452  148  513
748  353  175  211  594  637  173  767  380  176  648  768  925  516  617  272  489  111  488  604
872  384  935  574  512  385  679  641  241  162  577  530  100  306  787  910  490  299  646  247
121  253  694  479  971  453  374  797  680  999  128  659  514  166  421  867  424  402  371  908
216  538  551  607  804  539  585  259  313  944  977  712  732  900  717  252  104  332  589  998
673  653  365  973  891  635  375  831  378  547  464  638  761  901  113  979  886  970  507  200
300  997  339  149  181  318  829  972  267  482  912  994  244  708  358  564  937  542  218  672
652  204  936  890  818  704  948  545  273  736  168  830  968  160  536  230  361  407  207  321
220  981  791  189  132  579  764  951  667  869  297  250  754  660  467  217  406  440  446  476
481  915  324  289  583  575  303  861  422  511  192  612  760  837  946  728  500  118  459  153
210  781  274  268  807  752  145  650  689  281  630  327  468  631  969  596  521  107  419  814
744  439  812  921  426  636  159  763  239  874  363  334  665  342  134  156  295  815  676  576
985  590  535  868  392  350  460  862  495  344  338  325  765  766  367  674  262  329  759  558
529  738  619  167  158  170  709  780  109  592  615  559  403  597  885  996  835  193  301  933
430  383  283  190  920  345  182  249  443  991  360  240  486  571  414  947  548  706  271  988
178  510  413  934  716  875  554  557  553  364  742  581  147  980  555  584  697  389  643  916
394  567  231  783  649  857  326  256  472  119  794  801  164  552  169  568  682  825  788  836
573  610  265  726  734  418  796  237  992  286  492  661  622  582  802  287  150  625  412  503
699  137  605  671  876  269  745  333  595  922  962  444  445  884  724  314  544  572  276  769
191  206  201  404  368  434  408  184  129  983  864  194  587  501  144  949  956  427  966  598
172  224  560  531  654  777  102  254  593  455  961  939  288  122  698  569  114  823  746  703
296  941  882  878  964  524  731  913  515  795  420  135  506  826  298  432  197  284  498  294

Wednesday, September 05, 2018

The Mantra of Avalokiteshvara



OM MANI PADME HUM

“the jewel of the lotus is in the heart consciousness”

OM: represents generosity/ purifies pride/ ego, color is white/ trait is wisdom


Do you remember the number of beliefs you let go as you grew older and began to organize the world around systems not of your choosing?  The most interesting aspect of choice is not that we can choose, but from where do we believe we make choices. What I’ve learned most in the last year is the number of ways I reorganized my world to match the world around me like medical text books where the transparent layer of the body is laid upon a foundational mapping lining up the circuitry: Nerves, muscles, skeleton.   I tried to lay down in the outline assigned to me and keep within the parameters which I read as a type of safe, which I let fear read to me as a type of safe. I never understood why I was a poet, but poet is another four letter word that can hold you.

SANSKRIT HAS 96 WORDS FOR LOVE

I was writing a book about attachment and romantic love, and for some reason it wasn’t evolving: There is a bottom to grief, but how to not land there permanently.  I was meditating daily and doing yoga nidra and for some reason signed on to do a Reiki 1 training class. At some point when suffering, you hit a point where you submit because you have nothing else to lose. I learned this at 25 in rehab in one sphere and again at 39. Life spirals as much as we attempt to linear it. After my first Reiki training, I weaned off of antidepressants that I had been taking for over a decade for suicidal depression. This isn’t about medication or mental illness as much as it is a story about how patterns can be traced. For six weeks after Reiki 1, we were encouraged to meditate, chant, cut cords and practice self Reiki at least once if not twice a day. Thanksgiving fell shortly after I completed training, and I spent the day alone writing and meditating. As I sat at the table, this poem came out of me changing the whole shape of the book. After I wrote it, my entire body broke out in a damp sweat, and I was sobbing hysterically. Sometimes, we hold things inside of us. I say sometimes but what I mean is all times. All times we hold inside of us what we barely know.


break against

image of my brother’s head blown to bits
way a skull can’t contain what we are
way bones splinter and fragment
like a stone covered in cuneiform
speaks to us across time, how you will save yourself
heart’s seat, indestructible drop
how quickly you flew from us, birded
skull threaded in a womb where I too was threaded
lacuna in a life sentence
and then here too, firstly to step beyond this veil
and hold us as we come along
back & forth: souls
crossing near enough to touch
when you look into that book, can you read
what is written, can you see
last time I saw you
my anger kept me from speaking
I am lost, can you find me
I can’t tell whose grief
there is so much illusion
how can I ever hook you
I did not love you well in this world
my brother I did not know how to love

and I do not know why I can forgive you anything
but I cannot forgive myself

MA: represents ethics/ purifies jealousy/ color is green/ trait is compassion

Because I was writing about attachment, I tried an experiment of sleeping with strangers to observe how I attached to other people. I watch myself sometimes make these decisions cloaked in the veil of “art,” and I marvel at the fiction of safe it provides. I told myself I was doing this Reiki stuff in the same vein: Learning a new skill for writing my book. See how we slip accountability. I invited a man over I had never met and after we had sex, he told me suddenly that his mom had committed suicide and he found the body. He told me she had taken drugs he kept in the house, and it was his fault. What I haven’t told you yet reader is what I am. I call myself a poet.   

The BHAGAVAD GITA is a love story told on a battlefield; for how else does one approach questions of faith?

When I was younger, I could see clearly into people. I grew up in a house of secrets where the adults said one thing but the truth was different: I learned there are two worlds, the world said out loud and the world underneath where the truth lies. If you know things you can’t explain, it scares people. If you can read people’s intentions and energy and feelings, it scares people. If you know what comes next, it scares people. I spent all of my childhood learning to be a safe person, shutting out and turning down the volume of what came through; and then I learned to be a poet. To slip what lies in the underneath into a container called language, called art: I learned how to survive by defining what I am as an artist and then I couldn’t stop. I’m an addict.

When this stranger told me that story, I realized two truths: It was not his fault and it was not my fault my brother killed himself. Being a poet didn’t mean I had the words to save him. Knowing he was going to die didn’t mean I had tools to divert his path. This isn’t a story about suicide. It’s about patterns. If you watch close, life folds and if you mark the creases, you witness how the story keeps at it till you see. How quickly do you want to surface?

Megan: I thought, don’t do this. Then I did. I put my head against his heart chakra and I listened, I asked his dead to speak to me. I invited in suffering: chalice, vessel, channel.

Two weeks later, he told me he loved me. Then he abruptly left the city and moved to Florida. He met another woman and fell in love. All of this is coincidence, perhaps. When we broke contact, I texted him and said: You should know it’s not your fault. We don’t have that kind of power over others. We can’t keep them here. I wonder often when I speak or write, to whom am I talking? And it makes sense to me that we are all the same, because most of what comes out is meant for me. For you. For us.

NI:  represents patience/ purifies desire/ color is yellow/ trait of mind/ body/ speech/ action

I realized in Reiki II training how much intuition I had let waste away. I ignored my instinct and used reason to make choices, to keep safe. I invested in being helpless, powerless and let others take care of me. I was suicidal and sad from a very young age, so I thought this is I. This is normal. It never occurred to me, and I was never taught that what I was doing was absorbing what was around me, that I was born into generations of suffering and abuse and addiction. I thought I was the entire puzzle missing a piece. But I was just one piece. I began to see the story of my brother and me in a very particular way, and to understand it you would have to know how often we spoke of death. You would have to know what it feels like to have no fear of death.

The story fits on top of other stories; it is not new. It is a spiral; we are caught in its net. Once upon a time there was a sister and a brother who chose to come into the world together, one was a receiver and one was a transmitter. In order to shift great amounts of energy, a sacrifice is required. We can’t undergo great change without letting go of all we knew before, except by not being afraid to give up all of it: All that we love and all that we hate. Duality itself is what we sacrifice, and that is the trickiness of it. When my brother suicided, he set in motion a choice to go on one side of the veil and I set in motion an intention to find him. This is how channeling works: You have to be able to lock onto a reception. You have to be able to find a transmitter, blood of my blood, DNA of my DNA, memory to my memory as much myself as I am, I would know you anywhere. I would find you anywhere in all that can be imagined. And here we are?

The Egyptian myth of Isis is a story about a sister who goes into the underworld to bring her brother/ husband Osiris back. Isis is framed as a great healer, champion to women and children; she is a channel ferrying between death and life; so we, so we.


PAD: represents diligence/ purifies ignorance/ color is blue/ trait is equanimity

I thought I was losing my mind. There have been times like this in my life. The best way I can describe it is as though being unplugged like in The Matrix. It’s watching the world around you, but it registers different as a code perhaps more than as a coherent space.

I started doing this meditation where I visualized going down 108 steps, one step for each breath where I could think of nothing more than the numbered step I was on in that breath. If I lost count, I stopped and got off the mat. It took weeks to get down to 108 without losing concentration and then when I reached the bottom I realized I had no idea what to do once I got there.

Inanna goes into the underworld to meet her sister, and she is required to hang her skin on a hook. These myths, these stories, they are guidebooks for travel. You must learn to remove your skin, to find the hook, to hang your skin on the hook once you reach the bottom of the stairs. You must not be afraid that you will not be able to put your skin back on once you are ready to ascend. Who would choose this?



ME: represents renunciation/ purifies greed/ possessiveness/ color is red/ trait is bliss

Each chakra of the body has a specific megahertz at which it resonates; the chakra can be balanced simply by listening to the vibrational sound. What is the function of sound? Why speak? Why poet?  Often when the dead speak to me it is just an echo, a whisper; and other times  I speak out loud and realize I am not talking to no one, that in fact I am not talking but being talked to about what I need to see. Sound moves around us, vibrations of energy make us a never type of alone, but oh, I hunger for touch.  It is a lonely life to be populated by sound, to be haunted and distracted by unsaid.



HUM: represents wisdom/ purifies aggression/hate / color is black/ trait is compassion



I read a description of grief by William Dadarrio last  night in his book, To Grieve, in which he stated that love felt during grief is like a lighthouse shining the way to point out that there is danger but not able to navigate the ship for you. Grief is like that, a body of water you must traverse and no matter how many maps you consult, the truth is the journey has never been taken until you take it. That is the sacred key of life, for all the same stories, there is only the journey of you in the traveling. Around us, we choose to see and heed the lights shining on us great warnings, great desire for our safe passage, but whom do we champion to steer? I poet because of all the sounds I can create, there will always be a last sound. That is the only light I have to keep in line of sight: To let go in love. Which word will I choose of all the words for love when it is time to say: Farewell for now. Om Mani Padme Hum.



It is very good to recite the mantra Om mani padme hum, but while you are doing it, you should be thinking on its meaning, for the meaning of the six syllables is great and vast …. The first, OM … symbolizes the practitioner’s impure body, speech, and mind; it also symbolizes the pure exalted body, speech, and mind of a Buddha…. The path is indicated by the next four syllables. MANI, meaning jewel, symbolizes the … altruistic intention to become enlightened, compassionate and loving…. The two syllables, PADME, meaning lotus, symbolize wisdom…. Purity must be achieved by an indivisible unity of method and wisdom, symbolized by the final syllable HUM, which indicates indivisibility…. Thus the six syllables, om mani padme hum, mean that in dependence on the practice of a path which is an indivisible union of method and wisdom, you can transform your impure body, speech, and mind into the pure exalted body, speech, and mind of a Buddha….
— His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Sunday, October 01, 2017

"You are my lucky star" -Ellen Ripley

"An imago is an image of a loved one buried in the unconscious carried with us all of our lives" -Hannibal


"Bad art makes the viewer much more active"  -I Love Dick 

Dear Chris:

I wrote my Dick a letter while watching an episode of "I Love Dick," it was the one where you are writing a letter that says: it's better that you didn't want me. And that's what I wrote too. It's better that you didn't want me. I told him he lit me anyway. Who is writing real letters here, Chris?

Is your letter real or is my letter real or are we the same or are we different.

I didn't mail it for six weeks, but I sealed it and never opened it to read again.

Last night was the closing of Navarati, a nine day festival celebrating the forms of the goddess Durga or the feminine spirit, the Devi Shakti that encompasses all sources of unseen energy manifesting as creation.

Can you imagine America celebrating women for nine days? Celebrating the divine feminine force of creation and destruction or acknowledging that it even exists; we are killing our mother because we refuse to see her. We are afraid of feminine energy, and so we live in a world that shackles, demeans, and strangles it.

We don't spend nine days celebrating women because we are a country knee deep in religions that were created to erase and kill the image of the divine mother, the goddess.  We celebrate murder and killing and control and violence, and we swallow the programming but we have no idea what sacrifice we were required to give to get here.




I watched Alien last night with my 14 year old daughter.  Alien was released on May 25,1979.

I was two years old when this film was released.  A seven person crew on the space ship Nostromo answers a distress call landing on a deserted planet only to find a ship filled with  alien eggs, one of which hatches and attaches itself to a crew member. The alien then is taken back into the ship as they try to save their crew member and then it escapes, quickly killing off the rest of the crew. The subplot is that one of the crew, the Science Officer, who is revealed to be not human, but an AI robot, has orders to retrieve the alien life form at the expense of the crew. For reasons never explained, the ship has an internal command center named "Mother" (presumably short for motherboard) that only communicates to the Captain and the Science Officer.


"Mother" is an internal womb center of the ship where the crew receives its orders and where the ship maintains its balance. Only the men have access to Mother until the Captain is killed. And then Ripley is allowed into Mother where she learns the truth.


The crew is made up of seven members: 5 men and 2 women. The two women are white, thin, and attractive but not conventionally beautiful. Sigourney Weaver's role as Ripley in the beginning of the film is that of stirring up trouble by questioning authority, thinking too deeply and inserting herself into positions to know first hand, whether that be in the hull of the ship watching repairs or in the science lab asking questions about the alien. She is bossy, assertive and annoying to the men.

The other woman, Lambert, is not bossy. She follows orders and is always afraid. She also smacks Ripley and there is a brief but banal girl fight in one scene. Lambert is emotional and hysterical.

Of the five men, there are three white men, one AI robot appearing to be a white man and a black man. Within the crew, the captain is a white man who appears to be in control. The science officer, the AI robot, is actually in control.

By the end of the film in a cinematic twist, the only crew members still alive are the two women and the black man. By the end of the film, it is only a woman and her cat.


Yes, Ridley Scott made a film where the hero is a woman and her cat in 1979.


This is the future. 
This is the past. 

Goddess heroes are every day and happening.

I mailed the letter finally. He texted me when he received it and said: Task is not to seek for love. True. 

Then he sent me a picture of a woman with an enormous booty. Because he is a DICK. 
xoxox

M










Tuesday, July 25, 2017

when the form is in place, everything with it can be pure feeling – C Kraus

"Because in the end you are really alone, whatever you do..." M. Abramović 

"When we die it ends. Until then we are all tied up." -L Montano

"I'll never understand why I write what I do as I do"  -K. Acker

did i poet every day/ every waking hour/ i wanted to make something that mattered -M.B. 

Dear Chris: 

We get lost. A year ago. 

July 26, 2016 (at my father's house): "silence holds us like a bridge/ i can 't cross/ so i gather my words where they stay/ unspoken/ think i came to writing/ to survive/ from disappearing

July 29, 2016 (breakfast w/ Dick) "what lies between us/ the space we keep safe/ i tell you everything. anything./ what does it matter if you care not/ who i see or what i do" 

August 5, 2016:  "dear love, this was the day you left me/ we went to the beach/ you flew back to Arizona/ we didn't cry or say good bye/ the world turns on/ insignificant gestures/ what makes a thing desirous/ you hid from me all of our time together/ but we mirror/ i hid too" 

I wrote my lover two letters when he went to rehab: 

in one letter i spoke of rain & our love/ a lifetime/ in the next i was saying good bye b/c i wanted to be the one to say good bye first/ seeing how you were the one leaving


It's true: strangers walk into our lives and they rearrange us. They pull us apart and put us together.

I started Basic Programming thinking I would talk about infatuation and desire and obsession. And by the end of the summer, I started Volume II. And I spent my time in deep meditations. I went to Kali and gave her my name. I burned fires and threw everything in. I counted 108 steps down in the underworld where Inanna showed me how to hang my skin on a hook. I laid in meditative sleep healing each part of my body. I chanted and moved energy and learned the names of each aspect of the subtle body. I wrote spells. I dream walked. I stayed in the space between here and there and I waited for each veil to lift. I went to the bottom of grief. I gave up knowing. I stopped taking the medication. I met the Empress who laughed and in a cottage, a trio of women who knew the way to the crystal city. I spoke with the dead. I watched my mind unfold. I became unplugged and panicked. I asked for help to be pulled back to shore. I went too quickly and then I learned the way to go slowly. I read the cards. I watched as it all fell further and further away. My brother reached out and touched me and when he did the entire universe was there, like lifting up the edge of a rug. I went looking and saw beautiful things. That is how I finished the book. I learned to read my programming.

I guess if you go far enough out-- you realize in the coding, it's all ones and zeros. There is no Dick. But there's also no us.

I forgot for awhile that making art was supposed to be fun. I am trying to find my way back, Chris. 

I have been gone a long time looking for something I hid away to protect in this life. I found her. I like how in interview magazine, you said: "I'm really committed to telling the truth in writing. ... I think that's what writing does. It tells the truth about something." 

Art changes us sometimes more than other people. Other people can be the door though, can't they? We walk through and nothing is ever again as we knew it.

And here we are now. in the menstrual hut. a trio of women, with the keys to the crystal city.

Love,

Megan