Poems
Rick Gentry
Bookstore :
http://www.abebooks.com/home/Intrepid(the pics are included in Rick's mails)
vendredi 17 juillet 1998 07:17
Fw: stop
Hi fOE and All,
Here's the Rinzai page, fOE. Occasionally I see the True Man With No Rank.
Have any of you seen him lately...?
LOOK
*U
***T
*!
From the High Seat, the master said: "Upon the lump of red flesh there is a True Man of no Status who ceaselessly goes out and in through the gates of your face. Those who have not yet recognized him, look out, look out!"
A monk came forward and asked:
"What is the True Man of no Status?" The master descended from the meditation cushion, grabbed (the monk) and said: "Speak, speak!" The monk hesitated. The master released him and said: "What a shit-stick this True Man of no Status is!" Then he withdrew to his quarters.
The master said: Today's students of the Buddha-Dharma need to look for genuine insight. If you have genuine insight, birth and death will not affect you, and you will be free to come and to go. Nor do you need to look for worthiness; it will arise of itself. Followers of the Way, the old masters had ways of making men. Do not let yourselves be deluded by anyone; this is all I teach. If you want to make use of it (genuine insight), then use it right now without delay or doubt. But students nowadays do not succeed because they suffer from lack of self-reliance. Because of this lack, you run busily hither and thither, are driven around by circumstance and kept whirling by the ten thousand things. You cannot find deliverance thus. But if you can stop your heart from its ceaseless running after wisps of the will, you will not be different from the Buddha and patriarchs. Do you want to know the Buddha? None other than he who here in your presence is now listening to the Dharma. Just because you lack self-reliance, you turn to the outside and run about seeking. Even if you find something there, it is only words and letters and never the living spirit of the patriarchs. Do not be deceived.
Venerable Zen students, if you do not meet Him at this very moment, you will circulate in the Three Worlds for ten thousand Kalpas and a thousand births. And, pursuing agreeable situations, you will be reborn in the wombs of asses and cows.
Followers of the Way, as I see it, you are not different from Shaka (the Buddha). Today in your manifold activities, what is it that you lack? The flow of the Six Senses never ceases. Who can see it like that is all his life a man who has nothing further to seek.
Venerable Ones, there is no place of rest in the Three Worlds; it is like a house on fire. This is not a place for you to stay long. The murderous demon of impermanence strikes in a single instant, without choosing between high and low, old and young. Do you wish to be not different from the Buddhas and patriarchs? Then just do not look for anything outside. The pure light of your heart at this instant is the Dharmakaya Buddha in your own house. The non-differentiating light of your heart at this instant is the Sambhogakaya Buddha in your own house. The non-discriminating light of your own heart at this instant is the Nirmanakaya Buddha in your own house. This trinity of the Buddha's body is none other than he here before your eyes, listening to my expounding of the Dharma. You can come to this seeing only by not running and searching outside.
The scholars of the Sutras and Treatises take the Three Bodies as absolute. As I
see it, this is not so. These Three Bodies are merely names, or props. An old master said: "The (Buddha's) Bodies are set up with reference to meaning; the (Buddha) Fields are distinguished with reference to substance." However, understood clearly, the Dharma Nature Bodies and the Dharma Nature Fields are only mental configurations.Venerable Ones, get to know the one who plays with these configurations. He is the original source of all the Buddhas. Knowing him, wherever you are is home.
Your physical body, formed by the four elements, cannot understand the Dharma you are listening to; nor can your spleen, stomach, liver or gall; nor can the empty space. Who then can understand the Dharma and can listen to it? The one here before your very eyes, brilliantly clear and shining without any form there he is who can understand the Dharma you are listening to. If you can really grasp this, you are not different from the Buddhas and patriarchs. Ceaselessly he is right here, conspicuously present.
.
.
***********************************************************************************************************
mardi 4 août 1998 07:55
Re: storm the studio
Well, well my little pixies; we've all been busy, n'est-ce-pas? I like this new direction; it seems like the obvious next step.
Interzone is dead, long live Interzone...
storm the studio
spin the vision
work the seam
loose the light
wake the grinder
unravel the knot
_______________
mardi 18 août 1998 08:49
Zoned
under the same sky... her belongings at that address, his longing there too...
DESIREISWOMAN from a fraying billboard, tatters loose to the sky; it was always drainage for angels, always a trick of the light... the future is written on a barn in Memphis... children of glass
reflect telepathic images, hieroglyphic arabesques of meaning at that address, the moon unhinged floats out of the cardboard sky... the boys head at uni under the same sky, angel's longing there from a fraying shower of stars, it was always Singapore, it was always Memphis...
____________________________________________________________________________________
samedi 19 septembre 1998 02:46
fare thee well Moeg...
no Body no One no
i am nothing
i wish for extinction
for Silence
you cannot know God
because He
DOES NOT EXIST
wHAT DOES?
mIND.
yOURS. mINE.
tHINGSMIND
.aLL mIND.
wHEREVER YOU GO
wHATEVER YOU DO iS mIND DOING
don't forget
we are floating
in space.
don't forget
how to forget
this planet is
2/3 (plus) water
(water dissolving; water removing)
don't forget
we are wet.
fARE THEEE WELLMoeg...
__________________________________________________________________________
samedi 19 septembre 1998 02:59
Windowless hallway to logic (unfinished)
Close both eyes often in the windowless hallway to logic, to abandon actions he never performed those along the tense border he came, he took leave, he imploded- fire on the hemisphere below.
I am two-headed, one free one sticky; hard to extinguish=
agression has ceased of running like molten orange-gold blue
meridians of light along the dusky equator
no one but no-body always there to see it
men die
for ignorance
this world is
unfinished.
_______________________________________________________________________
mardi 20 octobre 1998 03:05
mo bey
AMOUR FOU IS NOT a Social Democracy, it is not a Parliament of Two. The minutes of its secret meetings deal with meanings too enormous but too precise for prose. Not this, not that--its Book of Emblems trembles in your hand.
Naturally it shits on schoolmasters & police, but it sneers at liberationists & ideologues as well--it is not a clean well-lit room. A topological charlatan laid out its corridors & abandoned parks, its ambush-decor of luminous black & membranous maniacal red.
Each of us owns half the map--like two renaissance potentates we define a new culture with our anathematized mingling of bodies, merging of liquids--the Imaginal seams of our City-state blur in our sweat.
Ontological anarchism never came back from its last fishing trip. So long as no one squeals to the FBI, CHAOS cares nothing for the future of civilization. Amour fou breeds only by accident--its primary goal is ingestion of the Galaxy. A conspiracy of transmutation.
Its only concern for the Family lies in the possibility of incest ("Grow your own!" "Every human a Pharoah!")--O most sincere of readers, my semblance, my brother/sister!--& in the masturbation of a child it finds concealed (like a japanese-paper-flower-pill) the image of the crumbling of the State.
Words belong to those who use them only till someone else steals them back. The Surrealists disgraced themselves by selling amour fou to the ghost-machine of Abstraction--they sought in their unconsciousness only power over others, & in this they followed de Sade (who wanted "freedom" only for grown-up whitemen to eviscerate women & children).
Amour fou is saturated with its own aesthetic, it fills itself to the borders of itself with the trajectories of its own gestures, it runs on angels' clocks, it is not a fit fate for commissars & shopkeepers. Its ego evaporates in the mutability of desire, its communal spirit withers in the selfishness of obsession.
Amour fou involves non-ordinary sexuality the way sorcery demands non-ordinary consciousness. The anglo-saxon post- Protestant world channels all its suppressed sensuality into advertising & splits itself into clashing mobs: hysterical prudes vs promiscuous clones & former-ex-singles. AF doesn't want to join anyone's army, it takes no part in the Gender Wars, it is bored by equal opportunity employment (in fact it refuses to work for a living), it doesn't complain, doesn't explain, never votes & never pays taxes.
AF would like to see every bastard ("lovechild") come to term & birthed--AF thrives on anti-entropic devices--AF loves to be molested by children--AF is better than prayer, better than sinsemilla--AF takes its own palmtrees & moon wherever it goes. AF admires tropicalismo, sabotage, break- dancing, Layla & Majnun, the smells of gunpowder & sperm.
AF is always illegal, whether it's disguised as a marriage or a boyscout troop--always drunk, whether on the wine of its own secretions or the smoke of its own polymorphous virtues. It is not the derangement of the senses but rather their apotheosis--not the result of freedom but rather its precondition.
Lux et voluptas.
***********************************************************************
dimanche 8 novembre 1998 07:10
buddha/fire/sermon
"The ear is on fire;
sounds are on fire; the nose is on fire; odors are on fire; . . . the tongue is on fire; tastes are on fire; the body is on fire; things tangible are on fire; . . . the mind is on fire; ideas are on fire; . . . mind-consciousness is on fire; impressions received by the mind are on fire; and whatever sensation, pleasant, unpleasant, or indifferent, originates in dependence on impressions received by the mind, that also is on fire.wakarimasu ka.
r.gentry
_____________________________________________
vendredi 27 novembre 1998 04:36
Carbon Chestermakes the scene
cut-up is exorcism
cut-up is narrative illusion Is Broken.
whelms on the sand.
Infinity.
Carbon Chester Rankin. Foot feed. Tally ho.
Crack and run crack and run.
Intended knowledge missing in the dancehall.
Call to arms. Medic electric. Tyreswatch. Dare it to go on.
man dancing on the blade of a
razor.
Hurrah
.__________________________________________
samedi 28 novembre 1998 17:18
Who knows
It is known to him
to
whom
it is unknown;
he
does not know
to whom
It
is known
It is unknown
to those
who know well
and known
to those
who
do not know.
-kena upanishad
___________________________________________
vendredi 18 décembre 1998 03:17
Fable :
"But sir, the Private continued, let's up the ante a bit. Suppose instead of using all those weapons- by the way, I only object to them on aesthetic grounds, they're just so uh, messy- let's just disappear the fuckers. Just remove them from our consciousness, delete them."
"What the hell are you talking about, Private? How could a thing like that be accomplished?"
"This technique is born of the blackest magic, sir. Pure bibleblack hatred. If you can get a group of like-minded, right-thinking gentlemen like yourself together and focus your hate for an extended period of time, you could accumulate enough boojum to literally evaporate 'em."
"Hmm, well Sargeant, I uh know a few, well, friends I guess you'd call 'em."
"Perfect, Sir."
"But how do you plan to employ this hatred, Lieutenant? You got to have a peg to hang it on..."
"Yes sir. There's a prism in the World Museum of Anthropology in Basle large enough that we could use it as an accumulator to collect all that yummy disease, but that's the thing. I mean, I don't know how we could get our hands on a thing like ..."
"I am a very well connected man, Commander ..."
"And well hung too, sir. You're excitement seems to be uh, mounting. In any case, with that prism and just a couple of cheap lasers and a wad of chewing gum I could fashion an instrument to direct the collected juju right at the soul of any given person and..."
"S-w-i-s-s-s-h."
"Yes sir, s-w-i-s-s-s-h. Or more precisely, Z-v-v-t."
"Thank you, General. And now, if you'll excuse me, I have some important calls to make...
_________________________________________
mardi 22 décembre 1998 04:26
For Izzy
around the edge of the light
under clouds without water
we make miracles
and mirrors
in which to reflect them
it is a new night
it is opulent
and
elemental
and it belongs
to the voyants...
_________________________________
mardi 26 janvier 1999 03:58
galvanic skin response
We know
and we have to make a leap
directly outside the plethysmograph
of the penis.
It's a one-to-one relationship.
It's established and therefore truth
when a man becomes logic
in a polygraph.
Sexually aroused-
say blood,
say pressure measurement,
jump in!
Evidence is related re engorgement,
(the re is engorgement.)
skin logic.
********************************************************
mardi 26 janvier 1999 06:28
Angeltech
______
for god so loved the world
he gave his all in battle
never more to prophesize
never more to prattle
now angels up on high
do sing
and dance with shiny
rattle
eveyone's a poet now
and tongues are
won in battle
************************
-----Message d'origine-----
i went to cucamonga
i think that's what i said
i wish that i had got up late
and never stayed in bed
the queen of cups is dying
she left me in her will
i fear the rain is slowing
i never know until
there's quinine in the catsup
and trilling through the line
the people with the bailing wire
are four and six and nine
(to be cont. infinitely)
____________________________________
mercredi 3 février 1999 06:39
Date : mercredi 3 février 1999 06:40
Objet : sculpture
Burgindorf Merrycliff paused at the Isle of Ointment, took three short breaths, and faded into his terrycloth bathrobe.
terrycloth.
I suggest you sound the alarm.
Quality crayon wax o.k.
The man replied, things as they are are changed upon the blue guitar.
No dialtone.
Faceless. Digital.
Melodrama confuses me.
the medium is the massage.
bucky fuller eats rice krispies.
did you sound the alarm?
**********************************
samedi 20 février 1999 03:23
dadaspeak
dada is moist and fruity.
dada is generous to a fault.
dada is metal and wind and
a bucket of stars.
dada woke this morning at 7:14
and retired at 7:18.
dada killed 3 replubicans in their sleep.
dada incited a riot with whispers.
dada reads bad poetry
to bad little girls.
dada likes red.
dada visits paris twice a year without an umbrella.
dada can't stop masturbating.
dada wants to see every woman's cunt up close.
dada likes the smell of
assholes and sulfur and school glue.
dada has no mama.dada went for a walk and never came home.
dada is not water soluble.
dada dada dada dada dada.
dada.
lundi 8 mars 1999 06:30
Dawn
the fundament the firmament the flaw
the fixer
always fixing
the fixed
enbalmed in fixity
who am i
that these wildflowers
dawn open
in a yawn of cornfeathers
& hoarfrost ?
____________
Date :
vendredi 9 avril 1999 06:02the prince has left the princess
impaled upon a stave
the minions of the legions
are starting from their graves
hortense and calisha lay
entwined upon the bed
doing things that young girls
often dream of in their heads
waking up or waking out
is something to desire
i hear a distant pealing
the pealing comes with fire
mama comes with naming
the naming one is dust
how can i tell this secret
i don't know but i must
etc.
dimanche 11 avril 1999 13:33
los romanticos de la noche
'an irruption of the marvellous"
light pouring onto the page
the beautiful inner view of brightness, clearness & splendor
spread over heaven (yang), lake (yin), Metal (west) and water (north)
On the one hundred talismanic forms of your character
none grasps where to mark the grades
in the dream puddle
in the elmer fuddle
in the quid pro quiddle
in the hi diddle diddle
in the divination
of vapours
Date : mardi 20 avril 1999 05:36
Objet : alchemy-oh-my-oh
Endogeny of the transcendent being. Alchemical schema. From the brain descends the sperm, liquified cerebral substance. The heart furnishes the assimilable air and the vital spirit. The stove, matrix of the transcendent being.
Date : jeudi 22 avril 1999 03:57
Objet : rumi + sufi dancers
It's time to speak of roses and pomegranates,
and of the ocean where pearls are made
of language and vision, and of the invisible ladders,
which are different for each person, that lead
to the infinite place where trees
murmur among themselves...
rumi
Date : jeudi 22 avril 1999 04:04
Objet : scrolled
izscroll
Back to the menu of the Time of Naguals The Time of the Naguals The Western Lands - Interzone Creations - La sémantique générale pour tous - Interzone Galleries - Interzone News - THE INTERZONE COFFEE HOUSE - Interzone forum - Interzone Editions - Interzone reports - Interzone CD1 - Pour une économie non-aristotélicienne - Bienvenue à Interzone - Interzone Academy 2011