I can just imagine doing tai chi alone at 6:30 am by the lake or by
the sea shore for that matter. Simple things but hard to come by. ;-)

--- In taichi_phil@yahoogroups.com, hekatea <kate_alyzon@...> wrote:
>
> The poem is really nice. I like Allen Ginsberg.
> I hope I could join you in one of the session in UP but my sched
is quite packed. I hope you visit San Pablo and do the Tai Chi by the
Sampaloc Lake :D
>
> katea
>
> Imelda Morales Aznar <blubitel@...> wrote:
> Allen Ginsberg
>
> (1926-1998)
>
> (In this extraordinary poem, Allen Ginsberg, one of
> America's foremost poets, beautifully describes the
> thoughts that go through his mind while practicing Tai
> Chi in his kitchen in the morning waiting for his
> oatmeal to boil.)
>
> In my kitchen in New York
> by Allen Ginsberg
> (for Bataan Faigao)
>
> Bend knees, shift weight
> Picasso's blue deathhead self portrait
> tacked on refrigerator door
>
> This is the only space in the apartment
> big enough to do t'ai chi
>
> Straighten right foot & rise--I wonder
> if I should have set aside that garbage
> pail
>
> Raise up my hands & bring them back to
> shoulders--The towels and pyjama
> laundry's hanging on a rope in the hall
>
> Push down & grasp the sparrow's tail
> Those paper boxes of grocery bags are
> blocking the closed door
>
> Turn north--I should hang up all
> those pots on the stovetop
> Am I holding the world right? That
> Hopi picture on the wall shows
> rain & lightning bolt
>
> Turn right again--thru the door, God
> my office space is a mess of
> pictures & unanswered letters
>
> Left on my hips--Thank God Arthur Rimbaud's
> watching me from over the sink
>
> Single whip--piano's in the room, well
> Steven & Maria finally'll move to their
> own apartment next week! His pants're
> still here & Julius in his bed
>
> This gesture's the opposite of St. Francis
> in Ecstasy by Bellini--hands
> down for me
>
> I better concentrate on what I'm doing
> weight in belly, move by hips
> No, that was the single whip--that apron's
> hanging on the North wall a year
> I haven't used it once
> Except to wipe my hands--the Crane
> spreads its wings have I paid
> the electric bill?
>
> Playing the guitar do I have enough $
> to leave the rent paid while I'm
> in China?
>
> Brush knee--that was good
> halavah, pounded sesame seed,
> in the icebox a week
>
> Withdraw & push--I should
> get a loft or giant living room
> The land speculators bought up all
> the sqaure feet in Manhattan,
> beginning with the Indians
>
> Cross hands--I should write
> a letter to the Times saying
> it's unethical
>
> Come to rest hands down knees
> straight--I wonder how
> my liver's doing. O.K. I guess
> tonite, I quit smoking last
> week. I wonder if they'll blow
> up an H Bomb? Probably not.
>
> -Manhattan Midnite, September 5, 1984
>
> __________________________________________________________
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>
>
>
>
>
> In the middle of these streets and gardens, I stand and say
> and say again, and it's all I say,
> I wish everyone
> could know what I know--
> Rumi
>
>
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