3 fragments from my notebook

Here's a new post on my blog, Filtered Lights, with 3 fragments: a poem; a parable; an introspection.
You can find it here...

http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/

Shaddiy Werlz

This poem is part of a series, Augeries of a World of Kindness, in the book The Pardaes Dokkumen. The book is still in the editing phase; this poem has recently attained the status of “fair copy”, that is, ready for the public. The Pardaes Dokkumen is a book of varied poems, individual and in series, expanding on a famous but little understood midrash (story, exploration) from the Talmud, Haggigah 14b, in which 4 rabbis (Akeva, ben Zoma, ben Azzai, and Avuya) ascend to the upper worlds, Pardes (pronounced Pardaes) altho even that statement is an interpretation. These poems, these Pardaes Dokkumen, are arranged in a modified Talmudic format. The text of Talmud is divided into two parts, a terse opening statement, a Mishnah (what is received), and an expanded dialog about the Mishnah, the Gemarrah (completions). These Pardaes Dokkumen are arranged similarly, but Zoharically, with an opening poem, a Kabbalah (tradition, what is accepted), and an expanded series of interpretations, the Hiddurim (beautifications, enhancements).

This poem, Shaddiy Werlz, is told from the point of view of ben Zoma (one of the 4 rabbis mentioned above). Two further clarifications: First “Shaddiy” is a word superimposing two primary idea/images: most obviously “shadow” coupled with Shaddiy, a Biblical name of God, usually in the form “El Shaddai”, which has been interpreted variously, most commonly as “God of Might”, altho I am particularly partial to the interpretation “God the Nurturer”. Second, the Hebrew word, transliterated as “Henanee”, appears numerous times in the poem. It is usually translated as “Here Am I”, and in the Bible is most commonly used as a positive response when one is called upon by the Upper Worlds, or as a statement of readiness, awaiting the Upper Worlds to act thru the caller.

Awgerreez ov a Werld a Kiendness
Shaddiy Werlz
I dizzolv, I dizzolv. Henanee.
Awl ov me, I am washt awway. Henanee.
Frum brit melah* to kaddesh ha-tome**,
                        * circumcision; ** prayer for the dead
I am wash awway, I dizzolv. Henanee.

Arrownd my Seel a gallexxee ov Addom.
Dizzolven, dizzolven. Henanee.
And arrownd that gallaxxee ov Addom, voidness;
Washen and washt awway. Henanee.

Frayd and dekayd; I kawl. Henanee.
At the ej ov me at the ej ov Yu.
Fraktel, and refraktel. Kawlz ov Henanee.
Frum the ej ov me in the hart ov Yu.

But, wut this fase, arrizzen frum my ejjez?
Helix in my helisseez. Henanee.
Hu ar yu, shaddiy man?
Yur Henanee in my Henanee.

    "Zoma, it is I, yur Master,
    "El Shaddiy, ov yur shaddiy werldz.
    "Wut yu see iz wut I seed,
    "Yur werld within a mennee werldz.
    "Neer, so neer. Heer it sing.
    "Verb, reverb; my werd in yu.
    "Its skaelz: in jeyolojjek shaeps,
    "Its mellodeez: oesheyannek staets.
    "Now lissen klose; lern the trope.
    "Tern the key. My werld iz open."

Yes, I see annuther werld;
Parallel pepel in parallel lievz.
Heer a man kry; thare a man kriez.
Here he iz ignord. Thare... he iz not.

Du I see korrekt, or oenlee wut I expekt?

Heer I see a wouman despaerz.
The same thare; the same despaer.
Heer? Kiend werdz but stil despaer.
Thare? The werdz that kool, repaer.
Dizzolven borderz. Bareyerz innerwoev.
Three feenger breths divvide owwer werldz.

    Kross over, yu proffets and border-brakerz.
    A werld ov kiendness, but a breth awway.

Jacob on the road

Reading Zohar, Vayekhee 423

... Rav Yehuda said, “... Also, each of us is worthy that the Shekhinah will not depart from us.”...Rav Yosi said, “We have learned that a man should not rely on a miracle...” It is written that Ya’akov said, “If God will be with me,” referring to the union with the Shekhinah, “and will keep me in this way...”

I have always feared that I am alone.
Looking back, always at my side, You were there.
I am awlway feerz, I will be abbandon.
Loukeengz bak, side tu side, Yu ar thaer.

Last nite in the Hevvenlee Akkaddammee
I see, an the jujmenz ov this werl
Hav no vallewz. Thay ar shaddoez an illuezhen.
When I re-enter my Addomz
The shaddo taken solid form,
Illuezhen fule the empteeness a thot.
My eyes and my feelz, thay konvins me
The jujmenz ov this werlen
Ar the truth and the Werd.

Atternen Jewz

This from 3/22/10, 7 Nissan 5770, week ov Tzav, continues to explore the place of the Jew in consciousness. "The Jew" is such a mythically charged idea that to understand anti-Semitism (and certain aspects of philo-Semitism) requires more, much more, than just a knowledge of politics, history, and religions.

I Am In Yuez

I am in yuez, but I am not yuez.
I the standen az the dorren yur Seel.

Wen yu open that dorz, yu a let me inz.
     The vizhennaerz ammung yuez, report ov my seez.
     “O wunness o goudness o divvine harmenneez!”
Wen that dorren openz all ov itsell,
     I louks inside an shout akross yur waeslanz
     Reporten sumz ov my seez in yu.

Trembenz and wunderz shake yur grownd.
Yu kannot a standen tu my ups and downz.
     An Aenjel a Deth I am for the dyen.
     Hu groen week, say I korrup thaer kine.
     Thay see almoes nuthen, the massez a bliend.
     Hu aspiyern tu Godz kallen me saevyaer.
     Hem standen in Tempel kallz me khuvvaer*.
                    *Hebrew for 'friend' or 'partner'

Spiritual phenomenology, 3

And finally this phenomenology, one I would call transmigrational. It is a complement to Things You Will Hear, which I posted here on Oct. 12, 2008.

Energies I Followed. Places I Became.

...Then I became two seagulls
Spiralling their sex dance,
In helices,
Three gulls becoming
Fighting for a clam,
And then the flock itself,
A body of many bodies.

I became the moon,
Not more than a crescent,
My face turned down
With tears in my eyes
Like Hamlet's Ophelia
Despair as I follow the sun.
Ribbons fallen from my hair
Into a hundred reflections in a bay,
A red haze along the horizon.

Became a grain of sand
Jostled by the onrush,
A grain of quartz
Abandoned on a sandbar,
A grain of mica
Beneath the froth and hiss.

Become the ripples of a wave
     notes of a chord
In a larger wave
     in a turbulent fugue
In a willless undulation
     silently.

And rising from Ophelia
In an arc across Orion
I will become a great blue phoenix
Looking down on Ertha
As she whirls,
Hands thrown out!
Head thrown back!
In a dizzying spin of despair.
I will rise from her
And watch her drift into the waves.

Spiritual phenomenology, 2

This phenomenology describes a stepwise emotional transition, as it is experienced moving in opposite directions. I'm particularly fond of the symmetry.

Two Cuts of a Melody

The higher music creates order
But letting go to the lower music:

Lost in the Angers
And becoming angry.
Devoured by the Fears
And living in fear.
Absorbed into Noise
And reverbing noise.

Only following Orders!


The Higher Order creates music.
But only following music

And reverbing noise.
Absorbed by the Noise

And living in fear.
Lost in the Fears

And becoming angry.
Devoured by the Angers

And letting go to the lower orders.

Spiritual phenomenology

As I was editing my personal narratives this Yom Kippur, I thought of the various markers in my spiritual/religious journey. That path, looking back, seems rather like a direct line, a search that slowly, inevitably led to Judaism from a general or universal or nondescript spirituality. But, of course, it was not a direct line. Neither was it a product of any conscious pursuit, especially during the period of 1968 to 1989.

In 1968, as an 18 year old, I was a confirmed (devout?) atheist with a deep disdain for religion. However, I couldn’t avoid the incessant incursions of thoughts, impressions, and experiences that insisted there was a higher self or higher state of being “beyond.” Over time I acknowledged the reality of these experiences, not as aberrations or weaknesses or regressions in my “progress out of superstition,” but as insights at the horizon of my consciousness.

As I attempted to expand my consciousness, what was once on the horizon came nearer. Still, at the horizon a greater being/light continued to shine and draw me out. I have tried to name both the experience and the “thing” that I was experiencing. A Divine Imperative is one way of describing them both in a single term. The more personal term for the thing experienced is, of course, God.

I wanted to upload a particular one of those markers on my path, a poem entitled, “Hu Iz Like Yu?” What a crooked road we walk! As I was searching for it, I discovered in my archives three other poems.

Every poem is a marker, but unlike “Hu Is Like Yu?,” I do not think of these three as important turning points. Nonetheless, I was very glad to excavate them and bring them to bloglite. As you will see they are a very different kind of poem from the work I am now doing. I would call them spiritual phenomenologies. This first poem, below, and the next few that I intend to upload, date from the early 1980's.

Things You Will Hear

Above all, the ocean
Waves crashing and the low pitch,
Breakers,
                                        Waves crashing
Moving up the scale
To the high hiss,
Foam.

You will hear it again
As the light breaks,
                                        Crashing
                                        And the high vibrato,
Radiance,
On your Etheric Body.
Waves?
A distant memory.

                                        And yet again
Then the rhythmic scales
Will merge into a heartbeat.
Diastole. Systole.
Diastole. Systole.
                                        The rhythmic scales
                                        But you can't remember where,
The rumble and the hiss,
And all will be forgotten.

No, a vague recollection
Will come and go,
You cannot hold it,
                                        Twilight,
                                        Waves crashing
And you will continue
Changing bodies.

A difficult vision to bring back to earth, but here's my best attempt so far. Your feedback, as always, will be greatly appreciated.

Skechez for a Therd Tempel

     In the time ov Barrakhu* this iz the seen,
               * Jewish liturgy: the call to prayer
          (But in lower ellevvatenz the gaets ar rare tu glimps
          And the inner koryardz ar oenlee a mith).

The Rume a Merakkelz! All hevvenz reveel.
The Seel konformz, owter an inner,
     Az Addom benden the Miend intu spase.
The iy seez and deklaerz, “Holee!”
Time and spase but shaddo dimmenshen.
“This iz the day ov the Lor. It iz awsum.”

Ware thay dru wotter in the Ferstee Tempel
Now the wotterz por itself forth.
Yu will proffessiy and say, “Marbel. Marvel.”*
               * See BT Hagiga 14B
All the seengerz and all the luvverz
And all the prayerz and all the weeperz
And all the mumblerz and all the grumblerz
And all the kerserz, all ar holee.

Arrownden this holee a holeez ar ruemz
Full ov the arts and Torrahz ov the werldz.
     Here the thot iz being klarafyd.
     Here the sens ar being fokust.
     The saejez ar a spoken. Assend the werd
     Frum owwer unknowen we aspiyer a God.

RE: the poem: Guerden ov Addomz (see 10/26/06)

Reb Rick Kool wrote to me, asking:

So what is it that is written in our cells that we drag up the hill? The search for the peaceful place, the search for the garden with food (all kinds of foods for mind and body), or is it that our cells tell us to stir up dust?

In answering him, I thought maybe it would be of interest to all of you, so here it is:

I guess I would have to answer that, on the first level, the poem attempts to unlock these kind of questions, rather than provide answers. But then again, I hate writers that spew out the copped-out, bullshit company line that "art and literature have no meaning except what each reader/viewer gives it." That's just so much hogwash in a bucket.

So I am glad if this poem inspires questions, but if that's all it does, it's a failure. If art/literature is to be more than decoration or entertainment, if it is to take leadership responsibility for making this world a better place, the author must be able to clearly convey intentions (in-tensions) and meanings, and not merely create questions, ambiguities, and bizarreties.

Technically, I am merging/superimposing into a single picture a few worlds: 1) this, the one we see with our eyes; 2) the after-death state which we cannot see at all with any certainty; 3) the Biblical-spiritual world that provides us with images of some kind of original (or pre-world) paradise, that may also be, 4) a Divine state of peace and perfection that is immanent but hidden.

We are the tillers of this soil, this world, but yet we hardly know what fruit it is we grow or harvest. Indeed, we are so busy, so overwhelmed even, with the details, that we hardly have the time, much less the vision, to contemplate what, if any, are the enduring impacts of our presence and our work here. We have hardly the time or the vision to consider that, as many believe, we stand in the Presence of the Divine, and yet, grievously, we see with our eyes how shameless our behavior can be. Many also believe the Messiah has come, and yet, grievously, we see with our eyes that these are not Messianic times, at least by any definition I can understand.

Perhaps with these kinds of meditations we can begin to remove the veil from our eyes, a curtain upon which is projected this obvious world, but which separates us from higher states of knowing and being. Many say, "no, there is only this world, and it is not (but) a veil." They say there is nothing deeper, nothing Divine, nothing Messianic to see or to know.

But I have seen the veil pulled back, and I am trying to address that experience and convey it, both for those who don't believe there is anything beyond this world, and for those who have seen beyond, and want to see more. The problem is, visionary experiences transcend our rationality, and thus can't be conveyed in simple, or literal, or rationalistic modalities. I'm not interested in telling about the experience. Plenty of others have done that. I want to generate a reality transcending experience in the reader! My response is to construct linguistic forms that stretch, or tear, the fabric of language, and that superimpose multiple states and places. By partially emulating the "visionary" experience, perhaps I can literarily (and literally) activate or stimulate it. I don't know what else to do, to try to help people see thru, or beyond, that which appears so opaque, so impenetrable, so insurmountable.

But to attempt to achieve such results in one way or another is absolutely necessary. Whether I succeed or fail is another issue entirely. How else are we to be inspired to change, to do better, if we cannot begin to glimpse the Divine Presence beyond the veil?