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About B Gourley

Bernie Gourley is a writer living in Bangalore, India. His poetry collection, Poems of the Introverted Yogi is now available on Amazon. He teaches yoga, with a specialization in pranayama, and holds a RYT500 certification. For most of his adult life, he practiced martial arts, including: Kobudo, Muay Thai, Kalaripayattu, and Taiji. He is a world traveler, having visited more than 40 countries around the globe.

Countless Pieces of Hate [Free Verse]

Countless pieces of hate
Tumble through our days,
Clogging up our Flow --

Tiny bites of thought
Pit us against
Imagined adversaries...

But aren't all adversaries
Imagined adversaries?

Those who act badly against us
Are only adversaries
If we slide them into that
Mental basket.

DAILY PHOTO: Fire Temple of Baku

BOOKS: “Teachings of the Christian Mystics” ed. by Andrew Harvey

Teachings of the Christian Mystics (Shambhala Pocket Library)Teachings of the Christian Mystics by Andrew Harvey
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Acquired at Blossom Bookhouse

This book gathers a collection of short writings (mostly paragraph to a few page excerpts as well as a few poems) on mystic Christianity from the time of the Gospels through the twentieth century. While the bulk of the pieces are (if not from scriptures) the work of clergymen and / or theologians, there are some by individuals known elsewise (e.g. poets William Blake and Gerard Manley Hopkins.) The book is arranged somewhat, but not perfectly, chronologically — enough that all the Biblical excerpts are lumped together at the beginning to form about the first quarter of the selections. While there are a number of one-off contributors, there are several pieces from each of: Gregory of Nyssa, the Desert Fathers, Saint Symeon the New Theologian, Saint Bernard of Clairvaux, Saint Teresa of Avila, and Eckhart von Hochheim.

One nice feature of this book is that it does include selections from a wide range of sources (Roman Catholic, Orthodox Catholic, and Protestant) over a range of time periods, and from scriptures both canonical and “apocryphal.” So, there are many varied ideas of the mystical experience and the path thereto. The flipside of this fact is that there doesn’t seem to be a lot of cohesiveness to the collection. It isn’t always clear why Harvey (the editor) thought a given excerpt was representative of mystic teachings versus of mainstream Christianity. There is a substantial introduction, but otherwise the selections are left to speak for themselves.

Still, it was a quick read, dense with insights, and I found — particularly some of the scriptural selections — to be among the most profound statements of Christian philosophy that I’ve seen.

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“Wild Nights – Wild Nights!” (269) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

Wild nights -- Wild nights!
Were I with thee
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile -- the winds --
To a Heart in port --
Done with the Compass --
Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden --
Ah -- the Sea!
Might I but moor - tonight -
In thee!

Ducks Adrift [Haiku]

a pond in summer:
ducks look like wooden toys,
drifting leisurely.

Winter Malaise [Lyric Poem]

One bitter winter afternoon --
Locked under skies so low and gray --
The city slowed in cold cocoon
As what verve remained slid away.

And then the clouds, they broke apart,
And frozen souls began to thaw.
But some needed not the sun's kickstart
To free themselves of winter's maw.

What was their secret? I wish I knew.
To be happy sans the skies of blue.

DAILY PHOTO: Metekhi Virgin Mary Assumption Church on the Kura River

Psychopomp Shanties [Lyric Poem]

Here comes some sing-song psychopomp,
Shepherding all those stone-cold souls.
He sings stirring songs all day long,
Dragging the Dead over dark shoals.

Sonnet 130 by William Shakespeare [w/ Audio]

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes there is more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

Poppies [Haiku]

roadside poppies
sway in unison behind
passing autos.