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NO RESISTANCE TO LOVE

Poems on naked being

by Blake Steele

2005

 

 

INDEX

 

A...

A FISH, BLIND WITH TEARS

AT ALTURNATIVEBYN

A TENDER BREEZE POURS

C...

COUNTING 12 FLAMES

 

D...

DRIFTING OVER NAKED BEING

DRINK GODŐS LOVE

 

FOR THE LISTENER

 

GODŐS JOY

 

H.

HERE WE ARE

 

I AM IN GOD

I DO NOT ASK FOR WHAT IS FAIR

I JUST SAW A SUNSET

IMPRESSIONS  FROM MUNDAKULLA

IN NAKED SURRENDER

IN PARADISO

 

LET THE BEAUTY THROUGH

LOOK AT ME

LOVE IN EVERY CELL

 

MAKING LOVE TO GOD THIS WAY

 

REALITY BREATHES

NO RESISTANCE

 

ONE NIGHT

OUR WOUNDED MINDS

 

 

SANDRA HEALING AT SANNA TORPET

SHADOWS DEPARTING

 

TAKING YOUR SEAT

THE BEDROOM OF HEARTS

THE BREATH OF PRAYER

THE CHILD SITS

THE GOSPEL OF THOMAS

THE GREAT LOVE SPEAKS

THE GREAT SMILE

THE INNOCENT WIND BLOWING

THE NAKEDNESS OF EVERYTHING

THEN AND NOW

THE ONE SONG

THE POETŐS SONG

TWO SKIES

THE SKY A BLUE HAND

TO EMBRACE ALL THINGS

 

WE ARE

WHEREVER THE PRESENCE POURS

WILD THINGS

 

43  POEMS

LAST POEM: THE CHILD SITS

 

 

THE POEMS

 

 

 

 


I AM IN GOD

 

In God there is no resistance.

I am in God.

In the sun, there are no shadows.

I am in God.

In the pure flow there are no contradictions.

I am in God.

In the wind no stones fly.

I am in God.

 

 

 

 

THE GREAT SMILE

 

The body is good as milk

as innocent as flowers.

Deeper, through the veils,

as the layers open and part,

the Naked Being shines.

Here is the Great Smile.

Here is constant Kindness.

 

 

 

 

GODŐS JOY

 

June 29, 2004

  

Innocence of being is pure being,

and against such there is no law,

for pure being is as it is:

and all it flows through is as it isŃ

pure again, free again, fully loved.

 

The pure milk of my body,

the pure silk of a womanŐs body,

the open, empty, ecstasy rising in the belly.

These are gifts of the Great Lover.

These are GodŐs pleasures.

 

 

 

 

NO RESISTANCE

 

July 16, 2004

Torpit Cottage

 

Ecstasy points beyond itself and whispers

with silky breath,

go deeper.

Do not grasp the ecstatic, white flame!

Let the flooding flow.

Let the whole body move

as the body loves to move:

the innocent arching, the hot swell

of blood, the sweet, silky blossoming.

And go deeper.

Ride the tiger into deep tenderness,

into the innocence of God.

Take a bath in clean ecstasy.

Open wide and drink in the essence of the other.

Feel their body tremble. Move with their movements.

Follow yours.

Let the opening fully open. Dive in.

And go deeper. Pass beyond

the blinding White Light.

Nothing fully satisfies

but God.

 

 

 

 

THE INNOCENT WIND BLOWING

 

All over the world

young girls are exploring their innocent bodies,

feeling their softness, sensing their budding womanhood,

in their sweet swelling breasts,

feeling their wetness opening, their yearning arising

for something they cannot fully know or feel.

It is this innocent wind that is now blowing

all over the world. This arising of pure being

from the fountains of innocence deep within

the human body, deep within the dark--

that gleam of light. And all over the world

women are growing more ecstatic at being women,

and wondering where all this will lead.

And the wind keeps blowing, and the breath of Life

keeps growing stronger, moving into the bodyŐs cells

as light, seeping up through the layers of the soul

to clear the old shame away

and open the deep heart, like a soft, wet bud,

trembling and breaking open, yawning wide

to receive the huge, radiant emptiness

of fathomless holy Love.

 

 

 

 

LOVE IN EVERY CELL

 

Every cell is as innocent as sunlight

in the shine of Pure Being.

 

 

 

 

MAKING LOVE TO GOD THIS WAY

 

Making Love to God this way,

through the naked center opening

in pure reflection of the naked body opening

its most tender and ecstatic core,

is celebration of the union

of essence with essence

in the utterly simple,

pure nature of Love.

 

 

 

 

LET THE BEAUTY THROUGH

Lil Torpet

July 17, 2004

 

Love melts through as pure poetry:

Life sings in its own language:

Life itselfŃ

that great mystery no lover ever

seeks to solve.

Love reveals the wonder

and wonder opens the heart to beautyŃ

that ravishment of Love.

Let the beauty through: it isnŐt yours

to possess or use. It is the deepest you

and its tenderness is as strong

as a star.

Melt to Love and become an infection.

Those who catch it will love you forever.

Someone said, Meditate on the scriptures,

but Love made me jump.

I had to twirl and sing.

There is no use trying to be respectable.

When the wind blows through the tree,

the tree goes wild.

 

 

 

 

THEN AND NOW

 

Once I busily added to my storehouse of knowledge,

now I only want to run around naked in Love.

 

 

 

 

TWO SKIES

 

To be open and innocent in the pure emptiness

of an inner sky is more beautiful than

a world chock-full of things under an outer.

 

 

 

 

THE ONE SONG

 

There is one song that the poetry in me

now longs to sing:

how to surrender totally to emptiness

and to be a poem in the silence

of that wordless song.

 

 

 

 

IN NAKED SURRENDER

 

In naked surrender, in tender opening,

in the penetration of pure Love

we will find the nameless who has many names

and wash together in one radiance,

and relax open in one spacious place

forgiven and forgiving

before one face.

 

 

 

 

THE GOSPEL OF THOMAS

 

Take off all your clothes

and sit nakedly

before the naked Presence of God.

Take off the clothes of self-blame,

the familiar habits of fear and shame.

Allow the fountain to erupt

from the deep core of your

opening heart.

Laugh in the sweet surge of it.

Go ahead.

God laughs in you

as shadows whiff away

in this peace of pure fire;

this spill of LoveŐs river;

this clean breath of freedom

 

 

 

 

TAKING YOUR SEAT

 

Take your seat at the center

and sit in LoveŐs chair

and there open wide

your heart,

your body,

your beingÉ

Here is the secret place of wonder;

here the sound of nothing

that surges like sweetness 

upon your inner ear.

Here the voice of God whispers

to wash through your soul

with infinite care.

Here is the waterless fountain

that heals

in the chair at the center,

where you sit up and sing

in a circle of nothing,

that brings all you love

into being:

magical chair of knowing and seeing

and feeling that which is not

as it was and shall beŃ

compassionŐs creation of things that are free.

 

 

 

 

SHADOWS DEPARTING

 

Until the shadows flit away

mount the place where the free breath blows,

where that shining innocence that knows

seeps brain & body

healing well every cherry-colored cell.

Say Yes! to the ecstatic joy.

You are! Rising star within a StarÉ

And let every resistive shadow,

which banters and batters,

slip sideways like a dark cloud into Day

to grieve itself away.

 

 

 

 

HERE WE ARE

 

Here we are, with our secret stories

held in the book of our mysterious souls,

longing to be read by someone

with luminous, laughing eyes.

Here we are, holding the secret sun

that shines without wavering

through the backdoor of our hearts.

Here we are, shadows of ourselves,

longing to become, or to die:

to melt every pain away

until the naked child laughs

and dances free.

Here we are, held and cherished

by a tenderness of infinite

welcoming that wants to drink us down

into the warm receptivity of Holy Love.

Here we are. Look around.

No one is boring or common here.

For in this feast of Love

everyone is a mystery beyond comprehension;

in this feast of Love, everyone shines.

 

 

 

 

WE ARE

 

This tension in the fabric of your mind

is raw grief trying to become something.

Give up. Fall away from all that need

and start finding

the singing of empty open space

at the root of your heart.

You are a pure nothing.

You are Love pouring through.

You are totally free.

You are you.

Breathe deeply.

Feel your empty breath.

Move a little back. Be that!

 

 

 

 

THE POETŐS SONG

 

Poets burn sleep,

into light

like the blood-smeared,

like the disciple

who only feared

the eclipse of God

until his great descent

when night seized

his throat

and he stood dumb and innocent

in the midst of torments

until hell birthed his heart

like a song.

 

 

 

 

WILD THINGS

 

Your name is being called

by sacred beings

who are silent

and listeningÉ

Eat their music.

There are dangerous things down here,

fanged and foul, who work

for your liberation.

Eat their noise.

Be Love. Stop running.

 

 

 

 

July 30, 2004

 

SANDRA HEALING AT SANNA TORPET

 

She stretched,

and lifted her body up

and it seemed that all the young trees

of the world reached their branches up

through her arms to touch the sky.

And the life in her had to dance

and toss her head around

to let her yellow hair swirl

like seaweed in the pools

of Swedish shores.

It was only later that the sorrows

took her into that distant place

where a small girl sat dumb

and motionless at the feet

of a father who asked of her

what no child can give.

So she wept until a forgotten golden lady

came to wrap the little child in love.

And life came into her small feet,

and song slowly stirred in her tiny chest,

and dim light arose in dark, clouded eyes.

And to the young woman

who held the child like a pearl

in her heart,

tears came like rain

on the sea pools

of dark shores.

            *

Later, as I photographed her

opening all her being

to the Great Love,

a sublime look,

like di VinciŐs Mona Lisa,

bloomed opened through the playfulness

of our eyes as the light

of a young womanŐs joy

pierced me

and melted open

my old longing

for that radiant woman

who now loves me

from the free fields

of heaven.

 

 

 

 

August 1, 2004

Sanna Torpet

 

THE BREATH OF PRAYER

 

How much beauty can you contain?

Breathe the beauty in.

How much ecstasy?

Breathe the beauty out.

This emptiness is ecstatic.

Breathe the beauty in.

It falls without effort

down to the toes.

Breathe the beauty out.

It floods out your heart into the world.

Breathe the beauty in.

This breath is pure prayer.

Breathe the beauty out.

 

 

 

 

FOR THE LISTENER

 

The sacred silence

receives all speech.

QuietŃ

the dove-eyed
One listens.

Or laughŃ

for this Listener

is Love.

 

 

 

 

REALITY BREATHES

 

Holy Spirit

Ruah,

Holy Breath:

the separations fall away

in a clean wind.

Body brims with being,

being blows through body,

simple and clear:

the child-like reality

of the One Holy.

 

 

 

 

DRIFTING OVER NAKED BEING

 

Receiving the naked Being of God

into my core

is naked being drifting

over naked Being:

a silver fish swimming

over golden sand.

 

 

 

 

I DO NOT ASK FOR WHAT IS FAIR

 

I do not ask for what is fair

but only for what is graciously given,

the unearnable gifting

of the radiant God:

sweet, innocent Being

flowing as free as a naked breeze

into naked Being.

Shining Being as constant as sunlight.

There is no way to earn such a gift

but only the completed Yes

uttered by the melting heartŃ

only a complete allowing of the end of grief

or its turn towards Love

so the enigmatic separation can cease.

 

 

 

 

THE NAKEDNESS OF EVERYTHING

 

The nakedness of everything

is found in its silence

for all is silent in being:

only waves of light,

only small points shining

together in the wide sheets

of light called Paradise.     

Music is a phenomena of Love;

sound an illusive gift

in the miracle mirror of the mindŃ

enigmatic delights in oceans of being,

for the only sake of Love,

and the celebration

of silence as song.

 

 

 

 

COUNTING  12 FLAMES

 

The sun shines

bathing my body in pure radiance,

and piercing into me.

The center of my brain

is open, spacious Light.

My voice spills out light

in silent waves for listeners to hear.

My heart is an open portal

to the pink rose of God.

My will is free, for at last

it is all happening.

My belly is a warm green place,

lush with the earthŐs exuberance

in response to Light:

of a free, tangled growth of dark

and bright feelings.

My loins are two sweet roses of light

and the good milk of light,

the teeming seed that becomes

the radiant child.

My feet are light walking

through seas of light undulating

into form: the Word of Alaha.

My hands shine like little suns,

my fingers like little stars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE BEDROOM OF HEARTS

 

This empty place,

this naked space,

this full nothing

is the bridal chamber of hearts:

only a man of light can enter here;

only a woman of radiance

can drop her robes in this dark.

 

 

 

 

IMPRESSIONS  FROM MUNDAKULLA

 

The child in white stands before

a leathery old woman who wears turquoise necklaces

and east Indian rings.

The old woman is wise, and knows

she is in the presence of invincible power.

The childŐs hair is white and softly gleams.

The old woman is silent and serine.

The heart of the child could burst into laughter

at the slightest provocation, but feeling

mystery in the old womanŐs eyes,

stands waiting, as if not sure what to do.

The old woman crosses her hands over her heart

in reverence for the holiness she feels.

The child copies her movements for no particular reason.

Their eyes mirror that deep smile

that arises in the light of an otherŐs face.

Either one of them could burst into laughter

at the slightest provocation.

 

 

 

 

WHEREVER THE PRESENCE POURS

 

Wherever the Presence pours

the world shines.

The Presence pours everywhere:

the world shines.

 

 

 

 

A TENDER BREEZE POURS

 

A  subtle breeze pours

and moves tender young trees.

The response is shimmering

and instantaneous.

Breeze and branch are one.

Little leaves clatter.

This ceaseless rattling

is nothing but praise.

 

 

 

 

I JUST SAW A SUNSET

 

I just saw a sunset

that was fire in the bones of the sky.

It was a celestial insectŐs flaming belly.

It was a divine orgasm in color.

It was music.

 

 

 

 

AT ALTURNATIVEBYN

(a miracle observed)

For Sandra

 

A soul that scratches in the mist,

lanterned and longing,

turning to tip the cup of the crescent moon

and drink its luminescent drops,

cries, lifts her long arms

and shudders as the pain passes through.

From this cup a dark brew

steams spectacles on the back side

of the brain. And her whole body

shakes as the awakening dream

feels its own chains and the cold hands

that clutched and covered it

until it quivered like a lost child

hiding under gray cloth in dim lightÉ

Then she throws off her clothes

in the intensity of her desire

to be utterly real

and the whole thing opens

like an iris splits its blue bud

to yawn out its lush gold tongue

and lick air.

Then Life streams through

the empty door of her existence

as gazelles leap out of blue brush,

and wild green parrots stretch

their azure wings, and faces come and go

through one manŐs face

like a celebrative parade of those ancient ones

who sang her young soul from the back side

of the dark into this full light: where she, being

too beautiful for her heart to yet tell,

weeps in the fiery joy of a love

that shall yet wrap its shining arms

around the oldest pain known to man

and kiss herself back into paradise.

 

 

 

 

TO EMBRACE ALL THINGS

 

I must write of the sensual heart

of an old weathered man

and the silent circle of light

only the pure can understand,

and of the gifts of soul that are dark and light

like day and night, or the moon,

or the moods of the mind,

or the mystery of Love.

To embrace all things

is to run your hands at last

over the weavings on GodŐs loom,

and here in a moment that holds future and past,

to grasp why we have come

out of secret inner springs

into golden rooms.

 

 

 

 

OUR WOUNDED MINDS

 

Our wounded minds are like dark fish

swimming in a luminous sea of innocence.

 

The body is as innocent as birds,

as dew in the grass,

as sunshine, as a cup.

 

All things radiate the innocence of pure existence.

 

And the Spirit is tender and innocent beyond belief,

caressing us with its sublime presence

we are too lost in cloudy hearts to perceive.

 

 

 

 

THE GREAT LOVE SPEAKS

 

You who are sleeping in a beautiful Love

what are you thinking, how do you see?

I am thinking the moon and sun,

a wild birdŐs eyes and the hum of a bee,

while you are thinking of computers and cars,

new shoes and meeting some guy at a bar.

I am dreaming you have colorful bones

and can rattle your hands through beams of stars,

and how you are taking your beggarŐs cup

and tripping along on a blaze of stones

are dipping it deep in my river of gold,

while you are dreaming of the last lie you told.

Life in my ears is everywhere singing:

the chatter of sparrows, the clatter of reeds.

You heart is silent, except for its needs.

Open your hands over your heart,

the secret sun shines, the liquid gold flows,

the naked child stands in the wind as it blows,

and all the stars dip from the sky through its mind:

when will you awake to all you can find

when your soul from your dream

like a hand from a glove

comes out into view

in my beautiful Love.

 

 

 

 

THE SKY A BLUE HAND

 

The sky, a blue hand sent to cover us,

shines God everything through.

In fields we exist of Love

where whirls curl birds and bleats birth lambs.

Now singing was,

as dancing comesÉ

Life now is and happening.

The earth, a green hand sent to nestle us,

soul the warmth while windowed the heartÉ

In skies we exist of Love

where curls whirl clouds and poems I am.

Now singing was,

as dancing comesÉ

Life now is and happening.

The sea, a wild breast sent to suckle us,

shines God everything through.

 

 

 

 

LOOK AT ME

 

Look at me

I am innocence

I am as clear as a desert sky,

I am like fresh milk,

I am free.

Look at me.

I am the true mirror of existence.

Look at me.

Gaze at me.

I have no shadow,

I bear no shame.

IŐm as straight as sunlight.

Bubbling, rising, falling freeŃ

I am the fountain

from which all Life comes.

Look at me.

Gaze at me

in the mirror of your mind

until its shadows flit away

Love me through your open heart

with this Love

I am 

for you.

 

 

 

 

DRINK GODŐS LOVE

 

Drink GodŐs Love

but not with your lips.

Your heart has a gorgeous mouth

made just for wine,

or for the soft nipple on GodŐs breast.

If this poem is getting hard to read

thatŐs a good sign.

 

 

 

 

A FISH, BLIND WITH TEARS

 

A fish was filled with grief;

Its eyes blind with tears.

There is no water in this sea

for me to drink,

the fish was thinking.

It rolled over, died of thirst

and started sinking.

 

 

 

 

ONE NIGHT

 

One night God came down

and poured Love into my brain

and songs sprung singing

out of the night

as naturally as crickets

wheedle music from their legsŃ

this God who loves to bless:

blessing upon blessing,

blessings to create.

 

 

 

 

IN PARADISO

 

When the body awakens to its ecstasy,

has the child died,

or merely bloomed ecstatic?

What a gift ecstasy is!

What a pure bubbling;

what a silky sinking;

what tenderness beyond belief:

the little silver fish flapping.

the rose bud softly swelling open.

the wet dark drinking.

the spurting milk of life.

Look! I am alive and innocent

in my body and brain.

Alaha looks on me and laughs

as He laughed in days of old

before religion descended into its dark.

Ruah, the sublime feminine spirit,

floods through my flesh, like a moist cloud

on a hot day.

I am open, without judgment.

Innocent in my own eyes

the world is seen as beautiful as it is.

The child dances free,

naked in the naked goodness

of existence.

 

 

 

 

THE CHILD SITS

 

The child sits before the frowning powers

with a crown on her head,

in white, in simplicity of being,

and observes it all

with unwavering peace.

None can defile her,

her innocence is wise.

 

 

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