One senior's travels on the knowledge path to Moksha, using poetry, essays, and stories as a means of transportation.
- The Ancient Hippie
- Retired from 10 years in the Canadian Navy, and 28 years in the Canadian Diplomatic Service, with postings in Beijing, Mexico City, Sri Lanka, Romania, Abu Dhabi, Guyana, Ireland, Trinidad, and, last but not least, India.
Tuesday, 4 February 2014
The Weight of Dark Clouds
Many of us suffer from depression, and, certainly, all of us know someone close who has been affected by depression. Be aware. Be sensitive. You/We are not alone in the darkness, under
The Weight of Dark Clouds
Frenetic activity
alternates
with a sodden, heavy quietude
in which all thoughts
have a uniform bleakness,
bleeding into the vortex,
under the weight of dark clouds.
Struggling to breathe,
to burst through
the black surface, the iron cover,
that hides the sun,
that keeps you captive,
and struggling
under the weight of dark clouds.
Remembering moments,
glimpses of light,
echoes of joy, memories
of love:
phantoms in the fog
enveloping all,
under the weight of dark clouds.
A light shines
down the halls of self,
a fleeting warmth
that sparks a flame
of strength, of determination:
a key that can free us
from the weight of dark clouds.
Monday, 20 January 2014
Reality Skewer
A green Jeddore hill,
a January gift from a changing climate,
shifts slightly on some quantum axis,
and connects...
A cottage lawn and lilypads,
in Romanian autumn, at Lake Snagov,
entangle, theoretically,
with...
Fields of hillside tea on the winding road
east, from Nuwara Eliya,
glisten with morning dew,
and temporally shifts to...
Late summer at Gilles Lake
in the 1950s,
and the westering light
changes...
Number 7 highway near Sheet Harbour,
stretches a 1960s hitchhiking afternoon
until it loops back
to a January Jeddore.
Valid realities each,
connected, perhaps,
by a quality of the light;
or a sudden bump
in a multiverse
that encompasses
all.
~James D. Fanning
Tuesday, 24 December 2013
A Lady of Guyana
It is appropriate, at this time of year, that we should remember Christmases shared with
A Lady of Guyana
A kaleidoscope of colour and sound:
here, a grove of bamboo poles
waving strips of bright cloth
call for the blessing of revered
and ancient Gods
on an East Indian wedding;
there, the explosion of Stabroek Market
scatters vendors’ stalls across
the old Dutch square.
Papaws and mangoes vie
with books, tee-shirts,
music tapes and CDs:
the sound of Bollywood
competes culturally with
urgent soca and hip-hop
as stall-owners musically mark
their ethnic roots.
Beyond the Clock Tower
the Demerara flows in muddy splendour
patiently supporting
motley bum-boats, freighters,
fishing boats, and
the occasional Amerindian dugout.
The ghosts of the Jonestown dead
wander here, betrayed
by their leader’s selfish view
of Heaven.
Miles away, up the brooding Berbice River,
several hours walk from the nearest village,
a little Afro-Guyanese woman,
now approaching eighty-two,
tends her neat garden
of borabean, squash,
bokchoy, mango, fiery bird pepper,
banana, papaw, and avocado.
Long ago, as a valued friend
and domestic,
she travelled with her “Mistuh” and “Mistress”
to live in Trinidad and Delhi,
and to visit the islands
of Tobago, and far-off Phuket.
In her sparse hut mementoes:-
fabrics, carvings, batiks,
knick-knacks haggled over,
and hard won by this frugal lady,
in the bright markets of Sarojini,
Dilihut, Khan, Yashwant,
and the packed streets of Patong.
Her photo album has pride of place,
and she smiles as she sees, once again,
her strange Northern children,
remembering diapers, laughter,
bruises, and fairy tales;
kisses, and
“Good night, Venus.
We love you.”
The distances are great,
but the memories
are as close
as our hearts.
A Lady of Guyana
A kaleidoscope of colour and sound:
here, a grove of bamboo poles
waving strips of bright cloth
call for the blessing of revered
and ancient Gods
on an East Indian wedding;
there, the explosion of Stabroek Market
scatters vendors’ stalls across
the old Dutch square.
Papaws and mangoes vie
with books, tee-shirts,
music tapes and CDs:
the sound of Bollywood
competes culturally with
urgent soca and hip-hop
as stall-owners musically mark
their ethnic roots.
Beyond the Clock Tower
the Demerara flows in muddy splendour
patiently supporting
motley bum-boats, freighters,
fishing boats, and
the occasional Amerindian dugout.
The ghosts of the Jonestown dead
wander here, betrayed
by their leader’s selfish view
of Heaven.
Miles away, up the brooding Berbice River,
several hours walk from the nearest village,
a little Afro-Guyanese woman,
now approaching eighty-two,
tends her neat garden
of borabean, squash,
bokchoy, mango, fiery bird pepper,
banana, papaw, and avocado.
Long ago, as a valued friend
and domestic,
she travelled with her “Mistuh” and “Mistress”
to live in Trinidad and Delhi,
and to visit the islands
of Tobago, and far-off Phuket.
In her sparse hut mementoes:-
fabrics, carvings, batiks,
knick-knacks haggled over,
and hard won by this frugal lady,
in the bright markets of Sarojini,
Dilihut, Khan, Yashwant,
and the packed streets of Patong.
Her photo album has pride of place,
and she smiles as she sees, once again,
her strange Northern children,
remembering diapers, laughter,
bruises, and fairy tales;
kisses, and
“Good night, Venus.
We love you.”
The distances are great,
but the memories
are as close
as our hearts.
Sunday, 15 December 2013
On Elementary Fermions
“The Standard Model recognizes two types of elementary fermions: quarks and leptons. In all, the model distinguishes 24 different fermions: 6 quarks and 6 leptons, each with a corresponding anti-particle.” ~Wikipedia
Is it any wonder,
considering our composition,
that we are so conflicted
about the human condition?
We are composed of empty space,
fermions, and unknown matter:
we should not be surprised
we’re as mad as any hatter.
It’s not so much the fermions
that drive me to dismay,
but the cursed anti-particles
keep getting in the way!
With such internal chaos,
malignant and benign,
progress forward must be random,
and not by our design.
Perhaps quantum realignment
can save us from ourselves:
not a Theory of Everything,
but one of Everything Else!
~James D. Fanning
Saturday, 7 December 2013
Demonic Possession
We all carry our own demons:
chimeras that stalk
the gothic halls
of our subconscious,
awaiting the perfect moment
to leap,
slavering,
into reality.
The burden can be onerous,
and many of us stumble,
never to regain
full cognisance.
Others live
with eyes like haunted lighthouses,
peopled by echoes
of demonic laughter,
and shrieks of sadistic joy.
If we can embrace these terrible tenants,
these monsters in our closets,
and talk with them,
here in the sun,
we begin to see them for what they are:
small demons
that did no lasting harm;
dusty, stick-drawing demons,
who made a pretence of being evil;
laughable demons from the trunk of life,
mere dress-up clothes
from an older,
and darker,
day.
Friday, 29 November 2013
Autumn Flashback
Brief pre-winter days:
a noon sun perched just
centimetres above
the jackpine’s crest.
Giving little warmth,
the sun seems
merely a spark,
an ember in the primitive pipe
of the shaman,
as he dreams
reality
and fantasy,
and all combined.
The dog, the jays, the old man
all knew
winter was coming,
but, here... now...
the feeble sun
traces shadows,
and summer glories
echo echo echo
in the autumn air.
Wednesday, 27 November 2013
The Dream Meme
I am a part of a collective meme.
That sort of meme: you are not really conscious
of being part of it
until suddenly
it's there.
And you are not
really
sure
if it ever wasn’t,
or was/is it
only the dream
of a meme.
~James D. Fanning 27 November 2013
Sunday, 24 November 2013
Happy Holidays!
Before we get into our annual "taking the Christ out of Christmas" thing, I just want to say this:
If you are Christian and celebrate Christmas, I will wish you Happy (or Merry) Christmas;
If you are Jewish and celebrate Hanukkah, I will wish you Happy Hanukkah;
If you are just a crazed consumer that gets swept up in the buy-buy-buy of the season, I will wish you happy and easy repayment terms;
If you are Afro-American or -Canadian, I will wish you Happy Kwanza;
If you have a special holiday around this time of year called Boukshaba Nidwind, I will wish you Happy Boukshaba Nidwind;
and what I am really saying to all of you is:
have a happy holiday season, try to put aside your archaic tribal differences for a couple of weeks, and enjoy the company of family and friends, and make a sincere effort to love your neighbour, and to help those less fortunate.
When it is all over again for another year we can all get back to being our greedy, selfish, egocentric selves.
Happy Holidays, everyone! Make an effort to be greater than the pettiness that your tribe normally requires, and let a bit of love and understanding illuminate our brief time in the sun.
Go well, love, and enjoy. Peace on earth and good will to all.
If you are Christian and celebrate Christmas, I will wish you Happy (or Merry) Christmas;
If you are Jewish and celebrate Hanukkah, I will wish you Happy Hanukkah;
If you are just a crazed consumer that gets swept up in the buy-buy-buy of the season, I will wish you happy and easy repayment terms;
If you are Afro-American or -Canadian, I will wish you Happy Kwanza;
If you have a special holiday around this time of year called Boukshaba Nidwind, I will wish you Happy Boukshaba Nidwind;
and what I am really saying to all of you is:
have a happy holiday season, try to put aside your archaic tribal differences for a couple of weeks, and enjoy the company of family and friends, and make a sincere effort to love your neighbour, and to help those less fortunate.
When it is all over again for another year we can all get back to being our greedy, selfish, egocentric selves.
Happy Holidays, everyone! Make an effort to be greater than the pettiness that your tribe normally requires, and let a bit of love and understanding illuminate our brief time in the sun.
Go well, love, and enjoy. Peace on earth and good will to all.
Friday, 15 November 2013
Happy Things
Warm summer days and ice-cold beer;
northern lights that you can hear;
babies chuckling through a drool;
that sixties sound from Liverpool;
the spirituality of the stars at night;
that orange and brassy autumn light;
these are things that brighten our way,
miracles that happen every day.
The soul connection lovers know;
the absolute quiet of fresh falling snow;
the unabashed love in the eyes of your dog;
memories brought by a walk in the fog;
the warmth of family, near and far;
the colour and smell of an Asian bazaar;
this magic happens constantly:
just open your eyes and you will see.
Whenever life would weigh you down,
just take a breath, and look around.
Positivity will clear your frown,
enhancing those wonders that abound.
It’s not all gloom, death, and despair;
don’t give credence to the night,
beacons of beauty are everywhere,
ensuring you shall walk in light.
Thursday, 14 November 2013
Transition
When the cosmos at last recalls components it had loaned me, and the pull on inner quantum space of dark matter's gravity becomes far too compelling, I must make the final journey. Stay the requiem for those who care, don’t chant your prayers for me: my Heaven has been here and now, with reason my Holy See. I’ve savoured life with gusto, proud, and superstition-free. I’ve drunk of life’s heady wine, through seasons glad and tragic, but dealt with it all in my own way, reasoned, but idiosyncratic. I pass, having fully lived this moment of wonder and magic.
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The Ancient Hippie
Natraj dances with us all.
Welcome, and Namaste
Greetings fellow travellers,
For you American friends visiting, you will notice that this old Canadian uses Canadian English in this blog: kindly bear with me. As I blog primarily on subjects that are vitally interesting to me, I appreciate all feedback.
As I tend to be a bit of a language usage freak, I will, as required, edit obscenity and rude comments. That said, I welcome your opinions and discussion.
May your Dharma be clear
Peace
"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended:
That you have but slumb'red here,
While these visions did appear."
Puck’s epilogue to A Midsummer Night’s Dream
For you American friends visiting, you will notice that this old Canadian uses Canadian English in this blog: kindly bear with me. As I blog primarily on subjects that are vitally interesting to me, I appreciate all feedback.
As I tend to be a bit of a language usage freak, I will, as required, edit obscenity and rude comments. That said, I welcome your opinions and discussion.
May your Dharma be clear
Peace
"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended:
That you have but slumb'red here,
While these visions did appear."
Puck’s epilogue to A Midsummer Night’s Dream






