Signless and aimless,I have come to accept that I amwho I amlooking for. I am already what I havesearched for. As the master taught: Barn’s burned down- now I can see the moon. What do I see when the moonlooks at me? The memory of my muscles aching for you to see me. […]
Month: July 2021
In…sigh…t
is how we breathe, a light, delicate, clean breath, bathing the tonguewith a core of earth,the way sliced apples taste on a crisp fall day George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The Angle at St. John Fisher College, and 3:16 Journal. George’s blogs, […]
The Mouth of a Tiger Lily 2
drawn from the soil forever, forced by the tamed winds to grow prostrate, there is a morbid hiddenness lurking inside George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The Angle at St. John Fisher College, and 3:16 Journal. George’s blogs, essays and letters have appeared in USA Today, The Wall Street Journal, The Atlantic, Havana Times, South China Morning […]
Women in Indian Tantric Buddhism, Part One
There are two Vajrayana paths that lead to the spiritual realization of women – the path of a nun (Skt. bhikshuni, Tib. gelongma) who has renounced worldly existence, and the path of a yogini (Tib. naljorma) who can perform spiritual practice in solitude or combine it with family life. In the Indian Tantric tradition, there […]
The Mouth of a Tiger Lily
Once drenched by ferocious rains, steeping in sealable, blood orange petals with dimples of peppercorn spots on the skin,in a milk pale vase, in a country kitchen in the falldrawn from the soil forever, forced by the tamed winds to grow prostrate, there is a morbid hiddenness lurking inside George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The Angle at St. John Fisher College, […]
Wild Turkey
My father was one who best understood the shy verse of sawdust and steel.When he did speak, after aged bourbon by the charred pepper glow of campfire, his words would bring dryness to the dark, the way engine-oiled machine parts are ordered and arranged under the tongue. I listened. More than he knew. I saw how his words had shapes, how some of them circled through the air, […]