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"kuan" poems
*Apni Dhun Mein Rehta Hoon Main Bhi Tere Jaisa Hoon* **Roaming within my own tunes I am O’ just like you I am** *Oh Pichhlee Rut Ke Saathi Abke Baras Main Tanha Hoon* **O’ friend of the past season This year completely alone I am** *Teri Gali Mein Sara Din Dukh Ke Kankar Chunta Hoon* **Whole day, in your street Collecting the pebbles of sorrows I am** *Mera Diya Jalaye Kuan Main Tera Khali Kamra Hoon* **Who will set my lamp alight? O’ your vacated room I am** *Apni Leher Hai Apna Rog Dariya Hoon Aur Pyasaa Hoon* **My own wave is the malady Ocean I am and yet so thirsty I am** *Aati Rut Mujhe Royegi Jaati Rut Ka Jhonka Hoon* **Coming season will weep for me O’ breeze of the ending season I am** — Translated by Jamil Hussain, Poet Nasir Kazmi, Sung by Ghulam Ali
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Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 8:23 AM UTC
Season
Your home in White Rocks Marina you sat; always there to greet your crew before a voyage. Your red sails standing out among the rest. Silently awaiting your Skipper, our own George Hay Kain, as you rested in your slip, anxious to get underway. You wouldn’t make a sound as you patiently waited for your crew to load their gear down below. After quick yet thorough engine checks your Yanmar engine would roar to life, never failing to put a smile on your Skipper’s face. Your stern lines would come off. Your excitement would rise but you would remain still waiting to be completely free. Your bow lines would come off. You then would gracefully back out of your slip, ready for yet another adventure. Onto the Bay you’d go, wondering where you’d end up next. No matter the challenges you faced, whether in the open ocean, or in the Chesapeake Bay; you always brought your crew home safely; you always prevailed. My personal experiences aboard never left the Chesapeake Bay, however, the Bay was all I needed. Each moment I spent on board; each trip I attended; will remain with me always: My First Voyage with our Skipper, Branson, DJ, and Sam; Chestertown; simply preparing you for the winter; Long Cruise; Hurricane Irene; Your Final Voyage. So faithful you would be for your crew, for your Skipper; harsh conditions or not. You may not be resting in your slip in White Rocks Marina, anxious to get underway, but you will always be in the memories, and the hearts, of Skipper George Hay Kain, and the crew of Sea Scout Ship 25. May you now sail freely across the horizon, out on the open ocean, Kuan Yin.
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Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 2:43 AM UTC
From Pasadena to Annapolis, One Last Time
Your home in White Rocks Marina you sat; always there to greet your crew before a voyage. Your red sails standing out among the rest. Silently awaiting your Skipper, our own George Hay Kain, as you rested in your slip, anxious to get underway. You wouldn’t make a sound as you patiently waited for your crew to load their gear down below. After quick yet thorough engine checks your Yanmar engine would roar to life, never failing to put a smile on your Skipper’s face. Your stern lines would come off. Your excitement would rise but you would remain still waiting to be completely free. Your bow lines would come off. You then would gracefully back out of your slip, ready for yet another adventure. Onto the Bay you’d go, wondering where you’d end up next. No matter the challenges you faced, whether in the open ocean, or in the Chesapeake Bay; you always brought your crew home safely; you always prevailed. My personal experiences aboard never left the Chesapeake Bay, however, the Bay was all I needed. Each moment I spent on board; each trip I attended; will remain with me always: My First Voyage with our Skipper, Branson, DJ, and Sam; Chestertown; simply preparing you for the winter; Long Cruise; Hurricane Irene; Your Final Voyage. So faithful you would be for your crew, for your Skipper; harsh conditions or not. You may not be resting in your slip in White Rocks Marina, anxious to get underway, but you will always be in the memories, and the hearts, of Skipper George Hay Kain, and the crew of Sea Scout Ship 25. May you now sail freely across the horizon, out on the open ocean, Kuan Yin.
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Hey, Buddha I’d like to know what’s that smile for? what you smiling about? there’s so much pain and tension and conflict in the world and so much loneliness and so I don’t see cause for a smile I see you cross-legged in the gardens and on shelves and in the pictures and I see you at the Thai restaurant and always you have that smile so Hey, Mr Buddha - what’s that smile for? is there any reason why you should smile when it’s a struggle down here? I don't mean to be rude but just tell me: what’s there to be smiling about? given the times maybe an expression of agony like Christ on the Cross might be more apt; or maybe if you were more like the Abstract Prophet - no images allowed - might have been a better way for you, considering indefinable nirvana and all that instead you smile and perhaps you spawned a tribe of them: like the laughing Chinese Buddha whose bellies people rub for good luck; and all those ancient Chinese sages eccentric and laughing like the world’s a fun camp; and that Kuan Yin, that bodhisattva, who seems a female version of you she’s smiling always too though she hears the cries of all sentient beings so tell it straight is that smile really necessary do you think or is it just some ancient unknown Leonardo’s chisel cut everyone who makes you just repeats? Hey, Buddha always smiling what’s that smile for? what you smiling about, Mr Buddha?
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Oct 26, 2010
Oct 26, 2010 at 3:35 AM UTC
the pessimist sings to the Buddha
So I was doing my Kuan Yin practice when I bowed to a white sculpture of her and decided to listen so she thought to me "I will tell you anything you want to know... you just have to ask." so I pondered awhile and thought, "What is it?" and she thought back, "It is what you think it is." so I asked, "Who am I?" and she thought back, "You are what you think you are." so I thought, "I love you, Kuan Yin." and blew out the candle.
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Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 4:51 PM UTC
Kuan Yin's Answers
Element of air got me spinning with the winds The wild one dancing with goddess kuan yin Earth you guide with your grounded wisdom My roots in your womb mother blessed with this freedom Fire you have me lit Force of unbridled passion infused with inspiration A perfect fit Water you are the river of gentle cleansing What needs to be released you carry from me. Ether the element of connectedness Spirit realm one pointed awearness
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Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC
Winds of Kuan Yin
Thuk-jay-che Kuan Yin For protecting me Through this life Thuk-jay-che Kuan Yin For helping me To nurture my gifts And nourish my body Thuk-jay-che Kuan Yin For showing me Why I am on this planet For bring justice Thuk-jay-che Kuan Yin For encouraging me Through my parents My creative side My artistic side.
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Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC
Thank you Kuan Yin
Sunrise cherry blossom petals swirl and dance at the compassionate, adorable feet of the Goddess Kuan Yin Smiling temples hang like lanterns from dragon faced cliffs drifting gently through pastel terraced clouds "Merciful Mother how do we dare to measure the immeasurable or calibrate the infinite? Mortal minds cannot calculate what is divinely incomprehensible." Emerald eyes flash in the mesmerizing, stormy mist of Maya Quan Yin's snow lily hands wipe away our suffering soothe our furrowed, fevered brows Her words fall into pining hearts: "The body is a temple you are a projection of love. Love the Earth, love the air love the water, love the fire. Love the part of self that is of the ethers."
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Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 6:15 PM UTC
Cherry blossom dance