BY JAN HAAG

ART & POETRY - ACCUMULATIONS

INTRODUCTION + POETRY + MUSIC + ESSAYS + TRAVEL + FICTION + TEXTILE ART + HAAG'S BIO




INSPIRED BY

NISARGADATTA


ENTR'ACTE III

04-25/05-27/6-21-02
"Does being Hindu preclude being Buddhist? Does anything preclude being anything else? Everything else? Enlightenment means the never-ending moment. Or else it doesn't. My religion encompasses all: it's a compound of Bewilderment and Vertigo."
Leonard Rubinstein, e-mail 3-28-02




Everything grows quieter and quieter. Emptiness
opens out, deepens. I breathe. I
am alone. My world is within.
You are in my world. I
hear your song, feel your struggle.
My throat opens, muscles ache. I
move, sway, and the world moves.
The tsunami erupts, sweeps, climbs. I
Acknowledge the earthquakes in the soul.
Breaking waves flood the world. I
move within Scissy's disappearing forest, submerge.
The Mont appears, sands flood, I

rein in, restrain thought and emptiness.
Don't let the waves of excitement
stampede the docile tides of enlightenment.
Linger in the foam, gently endure.
Don't let tidal or oceanic energy
droop with the tef of enervation.
Don't allow for the delicious encorcellment
of beauty. Account for deciduous effluvia,
account for the Eastern twilight espaliered
on the long restraints of eschatological
doctrines, technologies, on the vulnerable escutcheons
of time and the soul's evisceration.

I have to begin wearing emptiness
out: my things, my rugs, my
clothes, my ideas, get on within
realms of silence, silently refuse my
chattering mind, the shimmering, gossamer struggle.
Accept the perpetual forgetfulness, annoyance, my
untied shoe laces. With youth moves
chosen and unchosen dramatic impediments. My
braking-down matches a soothed, slowing soul.
Do everything twice! Kicking! Screaming! My
only choice is to agree, submerge
into depths where difficulties create my

blind, groping, disappointed acceptance of emptiness.
There's no point in challenging the frequency
or the inevitable, maddening, continuing fractiousness
of a recalcitrant universe of fractal
laws that no futility or fury
might allay. My fulminations, fortitude, forgiveness
mean nothing. Fear, fire or future
will, with undreamt difficulties, reach, fetch
my frustrated soul from its fetishes
of reason, justice, logic, illusion, facade.
Slowly I stitch, I precisely re-fabricate
a simple soul, a fetal fullness.

Within this daunting, echoing, unperceivable emptiness
no dragons or snakes bite me.
Nor do they bless me within.
My silent beating heart sustains me.
My gentle breath gives up struggle.
Whatever I have had abandons me.
Nothing is perceivable. Even nothing moves.
There is nothing such as I.




#55





Copyright © 2002 Jan Haag
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Jan Haag may be reached via e-mail: jhaag@u.washington.edu


BY JAN HAAG



ART & POETRY - ACCUMULATIONS

INTRODUCTION + POETRY + MUSIC + ESSAYS + TRAVEL + FICTION + TEXTILE ART

HAAG'S BIO


21st CENTURY ART, C.E. - B.C., A Context