Chotki’s daylight

 

‘Chotki’s* daylight’ Trgates, 5/15/2022

pacing, rocking, nights. 

chotki, worn knots, heart’s sun rises. 

good morning daystar. 

* A prayer rope (Greek: κομποσκοίνι – komboskini; Russian: чётки – chotki (most common term) or вервица – vervitsa (literal translation); Arabic: مسبحة, romanized: misbaḥa……. part of the practice of eastern Orthodox monastics (and sometimes by others) to count the number of times one has prayed the Jesus Prayer or, occasionally, other prayers. 



https://logostim.blogspot.com/?m=0

Yes, have burnt many bridges

‘Yes, have burnt many bridges’ Trgates,5/5/2022
born out of due time, 
on borrowed, more than once. 
accused of burning bridges,
saying things not needed,
unwilling to let some things go,
answering fully questions in interviews,
not willing to lockstep with any group,
thinking people actually desire you to answer their questions,
yes, and no are most of my political views
(folks usually want blind obedience to 
their positions, and groups. freedom?). 
issues? personality. 
OCD? undiagnosed. some accuse. 
obsessive? only like to complete things. 
memorize? photographic memory — like to say, “as long I take the right picture I remember the correct information.”
prayer, meditation, therapy, medication, doctors, children, godchildren, grandchildren, friends, and work? like to note, this is why I am still alive.

funny, love collides

 ‘funny, love collides’ 5/11/2022

funny, you get to an age,
and love collides. 
welcomed sweet babies,
walked with them. 
met friends,
some old souls,
others learned over time,
we’ve strolled from red earth. 
seems like an exponential curve,
baptizing time,
saying goodbye to family, and friends —
daily I see them within,
like cobblestone paths,
we smile together,
watching our babies 
growing, grown,
grown up with others. 
funny, you look
into the mirror,
your hoary head,
glistening eyes,
you know 
Grandpa, Mother, the rest
saw this on their day
looking into a mirror. 
funny, love collides.

Villains, God, and stuff

 'Villains, God, and stuff'                 timothyrgates, 6/2/2016

Villains, God, and
stuff
Judas, Jesus, and
Lazarus -
Judas hung,
couldn't deal with the
s't hitting the fan
Jesus hung,
not only feeling betrayed by friends
Lazarus died,
his friend broken in grief, healed him
(he did die, again, later.).
perhaps they played as children,
best friends,
they didn't note each other's idiosyncrasies:
Judas played banker
Jesus played over asps homes
Lazarus liked wrapping silk -
one was sorry
one was forgiving
one was friend of both.
Villains, God, and
stuff
Friends cover our ills
Friends hang when others take off
Friends weep after others forget,
see flowers blooming from s't;
don't see you as a devil
don't ask you to call them Lord, 
when hanging out. 
like tiny children, 
seeing divinity in daddy, and mommy,
friends see our humanness, 
and say,
"Thank you."
oh yes, demons and angels were playmates.

Cardinals, Doves waltz

 ‘Cardinals, Doves waltz’ Trgates,6/9/2022

Windows open clouds,
angels busy with others,
Anesti, perhaps. 

Icons write, or paint,
affectations in the way,
not ever alone. 

Cacophony’s prayers,
heart’s beat disquiets clatter,
Cardinals, and Doves waltz. 

Door swings, Mother smiles,
walk through, or pray one more day. 
stop. a neighbor knocks. 

Michal’s new story line

 “To love another person is to see the face of God.” ― Victor Hugo

இڿڰۣ Many Years - Mnogaya Leta -Xronia Polla இڿڰۣ
For your Wedding, Michal. Love, Tim

‘Michal’s new story line’ Trgates,5/25/2022
held by Mothers, Fathers,
we begin our story,
akin to how they started theirs. 
placing our feet in their footprints 
our first trust of hiking ensues,
like our first dance steps 
in their arms,
then on Daddy’s feet -
he pretending it doesn’t hurt a bit. 
one morning we awake,
and we’re their icons of love,
starting a new dance,
a new tune,
a new story line,
like the stars in heaven,
unique, however always together. 

“Enlightenment
is when a wave realizes
it is the ocean.”  📿 'Thich Nhat Manh 📿

They weep not for little ones

 ‘they weep not for little ones’ Trgates,6/4/2022

children used for wars,
guns, health, national actors
weep more for themselves.

‘river’s end doesn’t’ Trgates,5/22/2022
streams and rivers flow,
pebbles skip across the pond,
rings come together. 

‘a Mother’s arms’ Trgates,5/8/2022
Angel’s wings give flight,
like a hen gathers her chicks,
Feathers from mothers.

Bluebirds singing

 ‘Bluebirds singing’ Trgates,6/23/2022

Sun’s shining, Bluebirds singing. 
well, sometimes blinding,
other times eardrum pounding. 
politicians offer inane 
thoughts and prayers,
one thing they’re in sync. 
“everything happens for a reason,”
dripping from pulpits, ambos, 
pontifications of answers
where there’s none. 
only bettered by nihilist decrying
the good intentions of others. 
Bluebirds do sing,
Redbirds often fluttering. 
somehow innocence robbed 
girls, boys, women, men
are not all buried,
violated again by
politicians, prophets, and juridical folks. 
strange, Sparrows fare better. 
Sun’s shining, leaving 
shadows. 

Three Haikus and Georgia Lee by Waits

 Three haikus, then a reality piece I still pray for better days for all, then the lyrics of song by Tom Waits a favorite of mine since the first time hearing. Love blessings. 

‘they weep not for little ones’ Trgates,6/4/2022
children used for wars,
guns, health, national actors
weep more for themselves.

‘river’s end doesn’t’ Trgates,5/22/2022
streams and rivers flow,
pebbles skip across the pond,
rings come together. 

‘a Mother’s arms’ Trgates,5/8/2022
Angel’s wings give flight,
like a hen gathers her chicks,
Feathers from mothers.

Κύριε ἐλέησον (Kyrie eleison), known in our doing the same. Gratefully lived.
———————————————————-
‘Bluebirds singing’ Trgates,6/23/2022
Sun’s shining, Bluebirds singing. 
well, sometimes blinding,
other times eardrum pounding. 
politicians offer inane 
thoughts and prayers,
one thing they’re in sync. 
“everything happens for a reason,”
dripping from pulpits, ambos, 
pontifications of answers
where there’s none. 
only bettered by nihilist decrying
the good intentions of others. 
Bluebirds do sing,
Redbirds often fluttering. 
somehow innocence robbed 
girls, boys, women, men
are not all buried,
violated again by
politicians, prophets, and juridical folks. 
strange, Sparrows fare better. 
Sun’s shining, leaving 
shadows.
——————————————————-
‘Georgia Lee,” lyrics by Tom Waits:

Cold was the night and hard was the ground
They found her in a small grove of trees
And lonesome was the place where Georgia was found
She's too young to be out on the street

Why wasn't God watching?
Why wasn't God listening?
Why wasn't God there
For Georgia Lee?

Ida said she couldn't keep Georgia from dropping out of school
I was doing the best that I could
Oh, but she just kept running away from this world
These children are so hard to raise good

Why wasn't God watching?
Why wasn't God listening?
Why wasn't God there
For Georgia Lee?

Close your eyes and count to ten
I will go and hide but then
Be sure to find me, I want you to find me
And we'll play all over
We'll play all over
We'll play all over
Again

There's a toad in the witch grass, there's a crow in the corn
Wild flowers on a cross by the road
And somewhere a baby is crying for her mom
As the hills turn from green back to gold

And why wasn't God watching?
Why wasn't God listening?
Why wasn't God there
For Georgia Lee?

Why wasn't God watching?
Why wasn't God listening?
And why wasn't God there
For Georgia Lee?

Children in way of wars; Angels fly

 Children in the way of Big People’s Wars, daily are killed, accurately murdered, leaders prefer the euphemism, “collateral damage,” in their place so they don’t need to own that they all justify the killing of innocents. Perhaps this is why leaders break openly when our own are murdered by anyone? Remember, leaders all over the world all day long pick the ones to be outraged over. Please let us be outraged. And, let us do the things said many times over the last two decades to keep our own safer.  And, let us be honest, and call all the killing of children, and innocents by warring countries what it is: murder. Lord have mercy, let us have the same. 



'Angels, fly only today' timothyrgates,3/7/2017

I've seen angels cry

seen them sigh

then die. 

I've talked with angels,

wept with them

laughed, roared,

then went to sleep,

finding myself awake,

unconcerned about 

whether it's dreaming. 

Angels have caught me

when I couldn't see

then we had tea. 

"Singing a song of myself,"

sixth tone intoned 

on a loop, 

here we set aside our wings,

halos of illusions,

we exist only together,

yet cannot fly for the other. 

Angels, fly only today

children, ready to play

we, then have no need to say. 

Behold, looking into the mirror,

translucent window,

angels walk barefoot. 

'angels don't always fly' timothy r gates, 8/13/2009

angels don't always
fly
do they die?

I bet they
would like to say,
'bye, bye.'
angels don't always
fly
do they sigh?

I bet
they'd like to say,
'oh shit, you didn't fry?’
Angels don't always
fly
do they lie?

I bet 
they'd like to say,
'genesis, perhaps a better try?'
Angels don't always
fly
their feathers drenched,
too heavy to spread,
not ready to drip dry –

Angles don't always
fly
when they
cry.

'Angels fall; Angels true' timothy r gates, 3/11/2008

angels fall:
some are said to fall,
some are told they've fallen,
some don't know why they haven't;
some simply weep, praying for redemption 
- ours,
us who do not weep,
who've never fallen,
who've claimed all for themselves,
unable to see the blood-stained tears.

angels, swift to aid,
not seen, save by: 
children,
those of hoary heads,
those of slower minds
those of warm hearts
those whose pain hasn't killed them 

and,
those who dare to behold Beauty,
not giving a damn or blessed
whether angels are real or illusions,
only that they are true.

falling,
I prayed for success,
an angel who knew my tears, flew 
-my unsaid words,
on this messenger's wings landed.

vicarious, 
like children,
those who've forgotten their age,
those of slower minds,
those of warm hearts,
those whose pain hasn't killed them

and, 
those who dare to behold Beauty.
angels fall
taking flight, again
when our need surpasses our greed,
and they're unable to find more tears.

They weep not for little ones

 ‘they weep not for little ones’ Trgates,6/4/2022

children used for wars,
guns, health, national actors
weep more for themselves.

footprints

 ‘footprints’ trgates,9/8/2021

Looking back I see
footprints I’d placed mine into, 
Moon smiles, “keep walking.”

Being offended

 ‘Being offended, self indulgence’ trgates, 10/09/2021

my feelings are hurt,
while innocents are starving,
whining is a waste. 

'the Beam in your eye'                         timothy r gates,9/28/2014

Looking into the wind,                            
watching another stumble,
then fall,
something lodged in my eye.

Went into the house,
into the bathroom,
looked into the mirror,
but couldn't see anything.

It appeared to be a speck,
a beam, in your eye.
I removed the dust,
and noticed that it was a beam.

Behold.
will look and see
once I work on the other eye.
'I'm offended'      timothy r gates, 8/26/2012 (cutting through the bs, aagain
Lord have mercy: 
when I think my shit doesn't stink, 
sweet like baby shit,
ready to spew
yet you know diapers must be changed.
When I get angry
over another's attack on 'my' political
gal or guy,
as though she/he truly gives a shit.
When my creed, or yours,
is above ridicule -
honestly, what good is a deity
if they're not able to take it?
So you're offended,
thinking your opinion is transcendent beautification?
Maybe -
most likely just personal bullshit,
giving a feeling of in the clouds significance.
I am offended?
A Monk once offered to my complaint,
"When I think too highly of my own opinion."
Lord have mercy,
sufficient for me.
If this offends you,
maybe it's time to change a diaper.

all species

 ‘all species’ Trgates,10/17/2021

anthropomorphic, 
pandemic of the species,
hear their prayers, eyes closed.

Anesti

 ‘Anesti’ trgates,11/18/2021

I awoke yet here,
seedlings find their burial,
Sun’s Moon knows his rays.

now our overtones

 ‘now our overtones’ Trgates,1/12/2022

fallen asleep,
died to this world,
grace outshines naysayers,
love knows a blessed repose. 
‘Love covers a multitude of ills.”
i remember well worn choral directors,
patient, persevering with us,
eight parts,
holding out our respective notes
until right on —
seemed like magic,
all of our eight notes being held,
who knows how long, 
all of a sudden we heard a
ninth note, not sung by any of us. 
an overtone, byproduct of us together,
right on, for a moment. Synergy. 
in blessed repose,
beloved ones,
love’s memory eternal,
now, our overtones,
like a ocean,
for a moment
rush over us,
intonation together 
gives opportunity to 
sing our notes together. 
the ninth note is never lost.

like the willow

 



‘like the willow’ Trgates,1/13/2022

weeping like the willow,

bent over, touching the earth,

standing tall,

happy at births,

broken at last kisses,

branches swinging at each wedding,

at each choice otherwise,

at each new tributary,

our roots reach as deep

as our limbs,

storms only threaten our height,

our weeping’s our strength,

found in standing tall. 

 “You have collected all my tears in Your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.”

hatred, war’s genesis

 ‘hatred, war’s genesis’ Trgates, 2/26/2022

Who is my neighbor?
one brother threw the first punch?
domino headstones!

a Child left

 ‘a Child left’  Trgates, 3/1/2022

a Child shall lead them,
collateral, bombs dropping,
leaves one Child leading.

red earth’s kiss

 



’red earth’s kiss’  Trgates, 3/3/2022

throwing that fist of red earth,
landing upon your casket,
like the last kiss an hour ago,
your daily, “hello, I love you,”
knows no cessation, 
guileless in blessed repose,
as always since a wee one 
asking outrageous questions,
the difference between 
vertical, horizontal 
found in eyes open, 
or closed dreams —
time’s face to face.
eclipsed by love’s memory eternal. 
awakened by dawn’s,
“hello, enjoy today.” 
———-

‘like the willow’ Trgates,1/13/2022

weeping like the willow,

bent over, touching the earth,

standing tall,

happy at births,

broken at last kisses,

branches swinging at each wedding,

at each choice otherwise,

at each new tributary,

our roots reach as deep

as our limbs,

storms only threaten our height,

our weeping’s our strength,

found in standing tall. 

 “You have collected all my tears in Your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.”

Love’s so much easier

 ‘Love’s so much easier’ timothyrgates,3/16/2022

cursing the darkness, 
damn, that’s easy. 
politicians, preachers, professors profiteering with followers to their messages, 
proselytize as well, like prostitution’s pheromones,
perfumes prompt inline sneezes,
yet their coffers overflow. 
an ancient hiss needs no applause, there’s always a flashing sign directing the audience to clap, compliantly.
curse this darkness! 
go ahead, it’s just one more hand clap. 
Love’s so much easier,
Phileo, Eros, Agape,
all resting within, 
from who we are. 
hate, raping the soul’s pheromones, 
will make you think the fruit on the other hillside is who you are. 
love’s so much easier. 
the effort of a snail,
the dormant cocoon,
the embrace of regal eagles almost hitting the earth,
the gaze of the silverback primate over a foggy morning rainforest’s mountain,
the noise of wee ones playing, then squealing when mommy, and daddy come around the corner,
the hand of a friend, anywhere, at the right moment,
the translucent blues of a grandparent, even in memory in Blessed Repose, as fresh within any breath
is the music that silence attends. 
love’s so much easier.

Love’s kairos waltz

 ‘Love’s kairos waltz’  Trgates,3/22/2022

Waltzing with a tear,
angels and mastiffs

Genocide reparations

 



 ‘genocide reparations’ Trgates, 3/10/2022
nations sitting, watching,
doing nothing save for lectures,
so they “unionized” under various acronyms,
arbitrarily stepping in,
sending heartfelt prayers to the others. 
the murder of multiple millions ignored,
South Africa, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Ethiopia, Tibet, Taiwan, the American expansion, British imperialism, Israel, Palestine, Pakistan, Iran, Russia, Afghanistan, Japan, and more, then Holocaust camps ignored and refugees rejected by countries today celebrating their assistance finally to end them …….. 
nations claiming ownership of geography,
the most recent flag pierced into the earth declares, “Our land, our flag, always!”
the ancient story hasn’t evolved,
only some weapons added,
jealousy’s rock to the side of the head,
followed by, “who is my brother’s/sister’s keeper?”
genocide is the act of war’s expansion,
killing innocents in the way, 
no matter the right’s fist in the air,
no weapons in hand, 
is willful murder of those in the way. 
The Serpent blamed Yahweh for not informing sufficiently our first species. 
Ish, blames Yahweh, and Isha, “You gave me her, she gave me the fruit.”
Isha, blames, why she ate, and shared with Ish, “The Serpent tricked me.”
genocide reparations,
not found in excuses for 
impressionist painting. 
turning one’s own cheek,
not the same when watching 
another’s be ripped off. 
voyeurism is collaborative. 
I love you, what does this mean?
I love my children, grandchildren, godchildren. What does this mean?
Do I extend this love to everyone’s children, grandchildren, godchildren? 
Here we may, again,
“stroll together in the cool morning, in the garden.”  

—————————

…………..and then this older one is filled with the similar horror two decades ago………



‘lost mothers" (during Kosovo's attack) timothyrgates,6/7/2000

the stench was of my a hatred

soils her young child

she barely is able to hold on 

to this beloved one, now dead

a fist rises in the crowd,

crying out, "One more blasted --

victory!"

her tears drip down and stain

"Why? -- This poor one may 

have grown up and killed you!"

the furor of the crowd is quieted

though their love of the sullen, 

like clasped fingers of the fist, 

is not easily pried free

she looks down, now

through swollen lids, and

screams, "This in not my child!"

yet, she does not release the beloved one.

went to church

 ‘went to church’ Trgates,4/8/2022

in the tabernacle of 
my mother’s womb,
first church to sing from
at four, earliest recall,
heaven believed, never doubted,
though certainly tried to toss it out,
just couldn’t cease praying. 
funny. irony. 
once an apologist,
no need today
(I understand another’s need
to prove their tradition’s veracity.),
today, one’s creed 
is found in their behavior. 
it is said,
“we are the divine writings,
read by those watching, 
written as well upon hearts.”
awakened,
Kyrie eleison ,

Gospodi, pomiluy,

in the womb more spacious than the heavens,

thankful for each shared tabernacle. 

Pieces of Earth’s Song

 

'Pieces of the Earth's song, in eight three line parts'

'Pieces of the Earth's song, in eight three line parts' timothy r gates, 4/7-9/2011
1.
the Earth weeps for her children
trees know their demise
saplings think they're forever
2,
i've seen a Great Horned  owl glide
from two hundred feet
sweep down upon today's prey 
3,
snails move wit grace and intent
no need for speed's push
up a stem, down a leaf subtlety
4.
counting a leaf's genesis
more join on the tree
turn to catch before a rain
5.
willow trees know how to weep
maples how to laugh
dogwoods open with a cross
6.
the Lotus floats in Beauty
Buddha hymns its praise
freedom is not lost i the now. 
7.
children laughing lets me sing
roses opening
birch trees don't have to die
8.
alluring is spring's chanting
birds and bees courting
fairies' winged tease whispers, 'Please.'

napkin folded

 ‘napkin folded’ Trgates,4/26-23/2022

resurrection, anticipated,
the hill gives up its victim,
the tomb gave a few night’s sleep. 
napkin folded neatly,
Joseph from Arimathea 
gave use of his headstone 
long enough for the seal to 
roll away. 
Mother’s sorrow
awakens to morning dew,
the Sun’s prism 
opens a colour wheel. 
Xristos Anesti! Kalos Pascha!
Xristos Voskrese! Voistinu Voskrese!

innocents no longer

collateral damage 

for the irreligious, or religious — 

the evening, morning 

is known this day. 

a translucent 

river gives flight. 

napkins folded neatly,

time to feast.