One of Zero Poem 9/30

My fiance calls people with those ear buds talking on their cell phones One of Zero.
It’s a reference to The Borg, the villians on Star Trek who are interconnected with the Borg Collective.
No one is alone.  You are one of seven or one of twelve hundred.

So, One of Zero,
You look agitated, enlivened and a little cray-cray.
We often think you’re talking to yourself.
It’s not hand’s free anymore if you have to reach up and touch it.
You’re distracted whilst driving.
Even when you think you’re being safe.
Even in the grocery store when you stop, middle of the aisle, suddenly
not realizing someone is behind you walking just as fast
and you don’t move or get out of their way
but proceed with your conversation
full voice in the middle of the aisle
talking about what your opinion is
on the subject
we’d all rather not hear about.

When are we all going to have enough,
be connected enough,
be courageous enough to realize that our connectivity
is placing us in a state of perpetual change that leaves us
in a constant state of distraction and disconnection with the actual real world around us.

The living world is the one that breathes, moves, lives
and not on a page in the internet which technically doesn’t exist.
On a phone even, where conversations are limited to screens
with scribblings of fragmented words shot back and forth
from a satellite to another phone somewhere else
where a face to face conversation about something real
might have prevented the ending of a friendship
over misunderstanding of what those
emoticons really meant.

We have been removed and therefore can remove
unfriend, unlike, post, send, wave, LOL
and give meaning to meaningless in the pursuit of
technological advance and the future
while piles of our discarded electronics are sent to
children in Cambodia to “recycle”
poisoning, maming, killing them
for us to become One of Zero.

Maybe we will all be One of Zero one day
when there is nothing left of the earth but poisoned oceans
and dead radioactive animals….

Poem 2/30

It’s 6:12 pm and I have learned of your death from third hand sources and overheard phone calls. 
You and I were never friends and never will be.
We passed and never really spoken
unless is was about the dog
or the noise
or the indifference.
I called the police for you when he broke in.
Sad that he was actually the one who probably cared more for you than the stream of low-life parasites
in the smelly/dirty/noisy housing they occupied with you.
And it all was too familiar and that’s why I could name it.
Now all that remains is them
responding to those urgent phone calls from authorities
trying to find your family members
that they don’t really know.
They are all that is left.
You are gone.
I wish that I was indifferent but I am actually sad.
This is how you ended.
Sometimes I watched as you left with some of these
made yourself pretty
I am sad that you know peace now but in life never did.
You never knew what it was like to be clean
To have life staring full frontal in your face with all the beauty that it contains.

April is National Poetry Writing Month, 30 days, 30 poems, I’m already behind

The Challenge

It looks fun
Wow that was amazing
Let’s do this,
you know we can do this
It’s just a short time
You’ve done harder things
What if it’s not cool..
Oh, woah…that killed it.
There was that spark and ooopsss…..
The dark just came in and squish
It doesn’t seem so fun anymore
Maybe it’s not for me
Maybe it’s time to think of something else
Fill in that big crack where the idea split
between something light and new and promising
To that familiar old crow
Cackling…making noise
harsh on the ears
piercing to the mind
silencing the light
the only thing to do is breathe between the space
create a deeper creavice
before falling down the hole, breathe
breathe in
the pause
the breath stops the fall
breathe more
make the breath go deeper
the breath filling in that space
breathe in more air
air fills the creavace with air
it’s getting clearer now
the purpose the reason the air keeps filling and lifting
filling and lifting until there is light and lightness and floating
it’s not that we don’t all have monsters it’s that we put some space between them and us
we all come back
we all have the challenges


Many times in a yoga class I have either read poetry or quotes or had poetry read to me.  I went on Friday to an amazing slam poet Buddy Wakefield whose work really touches my soul.
 The past few days, that experience included, has really brought me into a new frame of consciousness.  I’m shifting paradigms here don’t get crazy about the twenty-cent words, it’s just a new shift and the last time I shifted and felt this sense of awe and wonder and excitement the world smashed and it was a little bloody and broken.  And I don’t think it was that I was in line for the punishment and the karma but the universe had something bigger in mind and I was settling for the great un-great.   If you’ve ever settled for some great un-great, mediocrity doesn’t describe it but good enough with bandaids stuck to it and some toothpicks holding it together with the smiles and nods you’re getting from someone who you want to love you sounds familiar then you know what I’m talking about in this long sentence.  So the rubble which was my house upon the sand became the pathway to the place I stand today.  With the universe saying here’s some new shoes and a key chain and a light, the rest is golden, enjoy the new ride. 

There is a universal song that is being sung in various notes and to various keys.  And I think we’re listening in.  I think we’re tuning in because it plays the chords on the strings that are found in the fibers of our very being and so we know the song to be true. Laugh, breathe, believe…..

Thoughts on Yoga Philosophy

As I continue my education as a teacher and a student of yoga, I find there are things that I’d like to share.  Different discoveries and insights have given me new ways of thinking about yoga and my own life.

In a recent teacher training, my teacher and fellow students were discussing  the Western focus of yoga being of asana (postures) versus philosophy.  It came down to simply this:  While many practitioners may start off with asana practice, over time, things start to change more on the inside.   Our focus turns inward, subtle changes occur, maybe through diet and what we put in our bodies or how we think about the world and how we treat others.  Even if we come to this as a way of bettering our physical appearance, over time, our lives start to change in ways we couldn’t have expected. 

A lot of experiences are like those from students as documented in the book Meditations from the Mat by Rolf Gates & Katrina Kenison:

“Yoga was physical for me at first, but it is not that physical now.  I t taught me that I need to continue to work on myself.  I thought it would be too selfish….but with yoga practice new things come up all the time.  I have a new awareness.”

“I have been physical, but also very competitive, all my life.  Yoga was the one area in my life where I didn’t compete.  I’ve settled into being a student. I am willing to learn, but it’s not about getting better, or better than the person next to me.  Now I admire the other students for their dedication.  Yoga has cleared my mind, and my decision making is better.”

“Yoga makes me feel more like taking care of myself, so I am more conscious of what I put into my body, and I am more present, more aware of how things are affecting me.  I feel more committed to taking care of myself.”

As we move into the Holiday Season, I invite you to turn within.  Take time out to do a short practice if you can, or two minutes to just shut the eyes and focus on your breath.  Take some time to look over the past year and see what positive things occurred, what you would like to change, what small things can you do for yourself in the coming year.  Take time to breath and enjoy yourself, even if for one small moment. 

Toe Eyes

I stand on my head
To see you through my toes
I breathe in through my nose
Gravity is my best friend
Keeps me grounded when
I feel like my legs
Are falling from me
I stand on my head
To see you through my toes
This is how we flow
Between asana sequences and glasses of red wine
I write poetry by candlelight
Because it feeds my insides
I stand on my head
To see you through my toes
Twist and unravel
Warrior stances
And moon dances
At being sore the next day
From a class I wasn’t ready to take
I stand on my head
Stare at you with my toes
The feet are a gateway to the soul.

by Hawah © 2010 The Poetry of Yoga and The Everlutionary Trust