A Cure for Sadness: on Mira’s ‘A Hundred Objects Close By’
I know a cure for sadness:/ /Let your hands touch something that /makes your eyes /smile.
When Your Blood Boils: on Chögyam Trungpa’s ‘for Anne Waldman’
Sometimes, there’s a poem that skips your brain and enters right into your bloodstream. Before getting it, it gets you. It becomes part of your cells and organs. You instantly forget how on earth you managed your life b.P. -before Poem.
Animal Song: On Maya Angelou’s ‘Caged Bird’
14 and clueless, I had no idea why the caged bird sings, but Maya Angelou seemed to, so I started reading and never stopped. Her stories expanded my world considerably and ingrained in me the importance of virtue. Of dignity. And maybe most of all, a sense of inner freedom. Or at least its possibility.
on Mary Oliver’s ‘in blackwater woods’ and the Four Noble Truths
The first in a series of essay I'll be writing for The House of Yoga on the poetry and Buddhism. Kicking off with Mary Oliver's 'in blackwater woods' and the Four Noble Truths.