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brian austin darnell | fallingappleshaiku.brian-darnell.com Reviews
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falling apples haiku
fallingappleshaiku.brian-darnell.com
brian austin darnell: Spring
http://fallingappleshaiku.brian-darnell.com/2016/09/spring.html
Monday, September 19, 2016. A yellow leaf falls –. Furrowed field –. The farmer’s face. Splits into a grin. Tilled ground –. Of the hoe’s handle. Outstretched arms –. Models his new duds. Of a burnt-out house. Pring time –. For the butterflies and bees. Dropping from one loneliness. Into another –. Cold morning –. Of the sky –. A winter of deaths –. Folded wings –. All of a moth. On a rake’s handle –. Perhaps, it’s dreaming. The clink of our gear,. No words between us. This cold mountain morning. Chat wi...
brian austin darnell: Summer
http://fallingappleshaiku.brian-darnell.com/2016/09/summer.html
Sunday, September 18, 2016. Summer evening –. Through the pasture fence. Scale the garden wall;. Slip off into the woods. Lonely evening –. Under the attic fan. He looks perplexed –. Chest deep in the river’s flood. Sultry afternoon –. The tumult of rain. In the darkening yard,. The cockscomb’s red. Unlatched gate –. The scarecrow’s hat. We celebrate the equinox –. Pale moon –. Whatever the weather,. His soft smile –. The buddha in the garden. Boating the oars,. Morning stiffness –. Wears my cowboy shirt.
brian austin darnell: Autumn
http://fallingappleshaiku.brian-darnell.com/2016/09/autumn.html
Friday, September 16, 2016. Let go of summer. The moon’s gray,. The meadow’s frost –. Wild geese –. At the pier’s end. A scrubbed sky –. The autumn maples;. Autumn fullness –. Where I’ve been. In the frosty meadow –. A trail of green. The elk’s bellow;. A red oak leaf. The shape of a hand. The dusk deepens –. Raid the wild persimmon. On field stubble,. The shadows of geese. The old woman’s. Harvest moon –. The wind going about. Plucking leaf from limb. Setting sun –. A daub of my shadow. On the silo wall.
brian austin darnell: Winter
http://fallingappleshaiku.brian-darnell.com/2016/09/winter.html
Thursday, September 15, 2016. Winter rain –. In the tin shed. With outstretched arms –. Cold dawn –. In the clear stream. Starry night –. Out on the highway. A truck changes gears. And bright stars –. Puffs of white clouds drift. Cold front –. The wind pushes around. A child’s swing. In the gray dusk –. A church bell tolling. Through the bare trees –. With Ryokan –. I warm the rice wine. A glittering sky –. Ah, the cold! Early snow –. For that old horse. Small town –. Is wearing my old coat. The living r...
brian austin darnell: Non-seasonal
http://fallingappleshaiku.brian-darnell.com/2016/09/non-seasonal.html
Thursday, September 15, 2016. They count, too –. I couldn’t put into words. In my childhood bed. Dregs at the bottom. Lone guest gone –. Of the parlor clock. Due for a haircut –. On this old head? Talking things out –. Too cold for sitting. Death rattle –. As the candle’s blown out. Reading the label –. The old man’s pullover. That gay whistle –. By its label –. Forbidden to touch,. To her breast, the librarian. Father’s tool chest –. Night rain heavy;. Sometimes light –. Bitter words –. Of her flight bag.
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Brian Darnell: Appomattox
http://ghamelayoga.blogspot.com/2015/01/appomattox.html
Saturday, January 10, 2015. I die daily, said Paul. Dynamic is the process,. Suggested Eruch, surrender chosen freely,. Repeatedly at every critical juncture. Yes, but surely eventually strung. As an endless rosary beyond. The clutches of time and self;. Seamless union, a tightly clasped fetter;. I want to surrender like Lee at Appomattox,. Stripped of rank and authority,. At the mercy of forces I have long opposed,. My world in dissolution and ruin,. Blood and smoke, silence, cessation,. Jai Baba, Brian.
Brian Darnell: Apparently, fearless
http://ghamelayoga.blogspot.com/2014/10/apparently-fearless.html
Saturday, October 25, 2014. Rumi likened the soul to a bird. Of beating wings,. And (fear's) inevitable,. A thrust and recovering -. Fear and repugnance, joy. And inspiration and back again. In pursuit of truth and beauty. And the leave-taking gamble. Of the solitary perch. Of nestled desire and pleasure,. Our final approach being,. Apparently, fearless -. Of a gliding, unalloyed posture,. Wings stretched to their limit,. Braced and unbending,. Our flight's path and pattern. From beak to feather beyond.
Brian Darnell: To question a faith
http://ghamelayoga.blogspot.com/2015/08/to-question-faith.html
Saturday, August 8, 2015. To question a faith. To question a faith. To learn of truth, peruse. The discourses of Meher,. Scriptures of Jesus, the other Avatars;. Read the enlightened Ones but not aloud. Not aloud. Hush! Only chalked up in the human heart;. Tainted upon the lips of anyone. Short of sainthood; recited. From ignorance and to advantage,. Persuasion, impression,. Impassioning desires and devotion;. To prove someone in error or unworthy,. To question a faith, a path chosen or otherwise,. NOW A...
Brian Darnell: The ashram's ox
http://ghamelayoga.blogspot.com/2012/06/ashrams-ox.html
Friday, June 22, 2012. The ashram’s ox. The ashram’s ox, Rajah, wandered away. Two disciples were assigned to recover it –. Ramdas plunged headlong into the task –. Tracking down every lead;. Interviewing all parties;. Organizing searches into the surrounding area. Shamaji wandered out alone,. Bellowing the ox’s name. Months passed without success. Shamaji, the itinerant madman,. Calling, “Rajah! Eventually, like the ox, wandered away. Ramdas became a valuable fixture in the ashram. Jai Baba, Brian.
Brian Darnell: It takes a death
http://ghamelayoga.blogspot.com/2015/08/it-takes-deax.html
Sunday, August 16, 2015. It takes a death. It takes a death. It takes a death, often. To bring us down to earth,. To the dove's heart a blow,. An arrow bestirring the dust,. A crucifixion of some sort,. Whether on rough timbers. Or the rotting beams of old bones,. Our common little crucifixes. Built humbly upon the rickety bridges. Of nothingness but also revealing. Human qualities of valor and gallantry -. For how else may God be brave. Long enough to glimpse: Everyone. Nothing to find but the hidden One.
Brian Darnell: The bars of this poetry
http://ghamelayoga.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-bars-of-this-poetry.html
Saturday, January 5, 2013. The bars of this poetry. The bars of this poetry. I talk about Your silence. The irony does not escape me) -. Knowing nothing, chattering along. While You hold Your tongue,. Mouth containing universes,. And motion with Your eyes. You wish me to follow. When will I get the hint? When will the world get the hint? This snickering, shouting,. Riotous and blasphemous world? I quote Your words. Lord, let me quote Your silence. And leave behind forever. The tongue of my conceit,.
Brian Darnell: Baby steps
http://ghamelayoga.blogspot.com/2014/11/baby-steps.html
Saturday, November 29, 2014. These aren't just poems. But baby steps (let us pray). Upon the bedimmed terrain,. For composer as well as those,. Perhaps, who read them and care. To share for a while the path. If there is a path), the gathered notes;. The incoming mail. Correct me if I'm wrong,. If you've jumped ahead of the plodding gait. Though, I expect no answer. To suit these (not at all) endless,. Internal, expedient musings,. Longing deeper and richer each step. For the clarity and strength. A Jewel...
Brian Darnell: The atelier door
http://ghamelayoga.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-atelier-door.html
Saturday, January 12, 2013. The canvas is bare. And the base coat is pain,. As we begin our self-portrait,. Muting even the sharpest. Delineations, the staunchest hues. We dream of truer colors. Until some cry of pain, interior or exterior,. From ourselves or others),. Returns us to the task at hand. But, soon we shall drift away (once more),. To conjure up another masterpiece,. Flitting about the room,. Staring from the windows, hovering abstractly. Above palette, canvas and easel. The base coat is pain.
Brian Darnell: An arrow in my chest
http://ghamelayoga.blogspot.com/2013/06/an-arrow-in-my-chest.html
Saturday, June 29, 2013. An arrow in my chest. An arrow in my chest. World weary and how am I to rest? Day and night, I writhe and twist. There is an arrow in my chest,. Delivered at the Friend's behest,. Borne upon a waking kiss;. World weary and how am I to rest? Stinging blade within me pressed,. Does agony portend the promised bliss? There is an arrow in my chest. Yes, I know my unworthiness. And my heart's inability to resist. World weary and how am I to rest? When shall this suffering crest. A Jewe...
Brian Darnell: An angel-less God
http://ghamelayoga.blogspot.com/2012/05/angel-less-god.html
Monday, May 7, 2012. Into the snowdrift I fall backwards. To make an angel, but . Gazing into an endless sky –. The stars’ glitter,. The moon’s silent shifting,. Cold earth against at my back,. I feel suddenly under the thumb. Of an angel-less God,. Overwhelmed by the travails. And duration of my soul’s exile. And how many more. Arduous journey’s stretch before me. 8216;til the promised quenching,. Rest and reunion. Then, . You hoist me to my feet. God’s shape,. You say , is this. Your portion of infinity.
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Our Consultants & Coaches. Leadership is about change. Leadership is about change. Be the change you wish to see in the world. Mahatma Gandhi. Learning begins with curiosity. Learning begins with curiosity. The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes. Marcel Proust. Pause, notice, reflectthen act. Pause, notice, reflectthen act. The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now. Chinese Proverb. Welcome To Falling Apples Consulting.
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Falling Apples Consultants | Thinking green for a better planet
Thinking green for a better planet. How — Blog posts.
fallingappleshaiku.brian-darnell.com
brian austin darnell
Monday, September 19, 2016. With bees’ wings. Furrowed field –. The farmer’s face. Splits into a grin. Tilled ground –. Of the hoe’s handle. Outstretched arms –. Models his new duds. Of a burnt-out house. Easter services –. In his majestic garb. The old Patriarch wilts. Spring time –. For the butterflies and bees. Dropping from one loneliness. Into another –. Cold morning –. Of the sky –. A winter of deaths –. Folded wings –. All of a moth. On a rake’s handle –. Perhaps, it’s dreaming. No words between us.
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Falling Arrows
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Sometimes I feel that a volcano exploded and I am the falling ash
Sometimes I feel that a volcano exploded and I am the falling ash. November 1, 2016. Just a fly-by post to say that life is busy, but I am still reading (and occasionally responding) to posts by all you wonderful WP bloggers. Counselling is going well. If you can say that about something that puts you through an emotional wringer once a week! Why I loathe the Gutter Press. October 11, 2016. October 11, 2016. Last week was the coroner’s court hearing to confirm the cause of her death. My brother...The new...
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