as the madness continues

Sun Jan 27 10:30:58 PST 2002

Harrison,

What can I say!

Space has to exist before it can be opened...even by you!

Peace,
Elwin Guild
Skopje, Macedonia

--- Harrison Owen <owenhh at mindspring.com> wrote:
> OSLIST <OSLIST at LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU> wrote:
> > Hello:
>
> 1. I must begin to say that I am not a fan of copyright. On the contrary,
> I am a supporter of the copy-left movement
>
> *****************
>
> I seem to have missed most of this discussion, being Israel trying to open a little
> space... which became a rather closed today as the madness continues. My morning
> started with the leadership school of the Army -- they want to open space. Then we had
> the bombing...
>
> but i think copyleft sounds pretty good.
>
> Harrison
>
> *
> *
> ==========================================================
> OSLIST at LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU
> ------------------------------
> To subscribe, unsubscribe, change your options,
> view the archives of oslist at listserv.boisestate.edu,
> Visit:
>
> http://listserv.boisestate.edu/archives/oslist.html

__________________________________________________
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Great stuff seeking new owners in Yahoo! Auctions!
http://auctions.yahoo.com

*
*
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view the archives of oslist at listserv.boisestate.edu,
Visit:

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>From  Mon Jan 28 00:07:51 2002
Message-Id: <MON.28.JAN.2002.000751.0100.>
Date: Mon, 28 Jan 2002 00:07:51 +0100
Reply-To: florianfischer at ff-wey.com
To: OSLIST <OSLIST at LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU>
From: florian fischer <florianfischer at ff-wey.com>
Subject: POETRY Contest NOW Convergence
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: multipart/alternative;
 boundary="------------23310997D3672876B65BF54B"

--------------23310997D3672876B65BF54B
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1; x-mac-type="54455854"; x-mac-creator="4D4F5353"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit

dear OSLIST !

now let me strike up the cymbels  for to converge
the rich harvest of 27 poems we´ve got
initiated under the motto
"five objects in the space of my sight"

every text has a number as if it had come in.
i edit it under the name of the authors
because every text had been sent under
the name of its author to the list, so we knew
already from whom it is, and we knew us together
to be familiar instead of formal.

without asking her
i take aine corrigans insight as part of the contest to start with.
hi, aine, please be so kind to agree.
like laurel agreed when i asked her to give
a special part of her letter as poetry into the  contest.

now, every one of you all there
has five (5) virtual sticky dots to spend.
put the five dots to the poem or the poems
which are telling you "it´s me to be dotted"

the author of the poem which will get most of the dots
will be named as the next oslist poet laureate.
that is mainly including the honour to open space and to hold space
for the next following semiannual oslist poetry contest.
beside that he or she will get a little gift .....

and let me say, the contest, as i understand it, is not to
elect or to decide about best of poetry, but is  to encourage
everybody of us to give space  and voice to the poetic aspect in
everyday life
and in our work. as it had been established from our friend ralph
copleman.

please let me know up to the 2nd of february
how you have spent your 5 dots
to what numbers of the poems.
for example:
#.. / 2,   #.. / 2,    #.. / 1
please send it  to me:
florianfischer at ff-wey.com

thank you authors for taking part
thank you all for listening
thank you all for joining now in convergence.
florian fischer

----------------------------------------------
#1
aine corrigan
5 words in-sight:

"Thank you space, for everything"
------------------------------------------------
#2
jeff aitken

"(W)e have moved from product- and service-driven stages of the economy
to
an era that is driven by staging and co-creating customer
experiences..."
-- Illuminating the Blind Spot: Leadership in the Context of Emerging
Worlds (Arthur, Senge, et al, 2000)

Like a lily it flowers from base to wide mouth,
its sharp edges softened for contact with lips:
this glass is a giver of sustenance.

Five experiences surround my desk
waiting calmly in their guise as things.
let us gently lift their veils:

Comfort is dressed as a black desk lamp.
safety rests easy, disguised as a map.
pleasure awaits its unfoldment as apple.

But here is the most transparent being:
this old white telephone is love.
look! it is not always love that flows thru,

But that it is made is love. to lift this slim handle
and feel the softening heart of my father,
what else can it be?

And now all five call out to me:
let us be a love economy.

----------------------------------------------------

#3
jeff aitken

lamp apple phone map glass
glass map apple phone lamp
apple phone lamp glass map
map lamp glass apple phone
phone glass map lamp apple

-----------------------------------------------------

#4
jeff aitken

apple apple lamp lamp
map apple lamp lamp
apple apple glass glass phone

apple apple glass glass
lamp apple map map
apple glass map lamp map phone

--

glass glass
glass glass
glass glass glass
glass glass
phone map apple
 lamp
phone map apple
 lamp

glass glass
glass glass
glass glass glass
glass phone
map lamp apple
glass
glass glass phone

---------------------------------------------------

#5
cris corrigan

WHAT IS ON THE TABLE

A vase that Vivienne left us
Stuffed with dried lavender from the summer

A wine bottle, green with emptiness
Its spirit having been drained

A half empty tea cup
Whose contents have filled me with insomnia

And delirious contemplation
Of a school of rice cake crumbs

That have spread across the stained pine
Like a creeping army of sadness

In search of their temporary state of communion
Mourning their rediscovered agency

----------------------------------------------------

#6
harrison owen

What's on the Desk?
Not a lot.
A pen for writing I haven't done.
Spectacles for tired eyes.
A coffee cup still hot.
And in the back
With blinking green eyes
My network router
Connecting
To all the world.
What's on the desk?
You.

-----------------------------------------------------

#7
ralph copleman

poem about everything

i
like
this
a
lot

------------------------------------------------------

#8
ralph copleman

The Purpose of Butterflies

It1s rumored
west winds begin with
a single thought from you, showy Lepido,
fluttering still pale air,
stirring the atmosphere1s slightest doubts
into creases, notions, rising torments
blowing fulvous skies over the Pacific
and reaching my sandy shores in soaking torrents.

Meadows1 breathy pastels,
serrated stripings, lustrous primary slashes,
rainbow glow, sky fire1s full flush.
Needlework on a timeless, frameless canvas,

To look that good,
for exclusive rights to the most fruitful coalescence,
to unfold heaven1s radiant robes
you will never glimpse,
you sifted genes through brightening strainers,
twinging at the level of chromosomes
for just the right hues,
coding whom to attract, what to mimic
to make a decent living,
You could have gone for simple stealth,
or murder-loving camouflage,
You chose
to be seen.

------------------------------------------------------------

#9
winston kinch

Hmmm... lets see... five things... around me on my desk...

a buzzard pinion waiting
in a bamboo cup
for the gentle breath of love
to lift it up

to soar with a bronze eagle
wave a magic wand
move us past the rage and pain
that's swept the land

of course Pooh is here as well
talking stick on lap
always opening more space...
for you? mayhap!

-----------------------------------------------------------

#10
esther ewing

Five things on my desk?

Coffee, steaming,
Waking me to my blessings
Perking me up...

Pen, pointed,
Poised for perception,
Or banality...

Camera, full of good times
Captured but fleeting
Family and friends...

Computer, open to email,
A window to good friends and
Ideas...

My heart, engaged and en-spirited,
Within and among and
On my sleeve,
Open and spacious.

-------------------------------------------------------------

#11
michael herman

suite 1105

LAPTOP sits atop old cardboard box,
in a trick i learned at lisa heft's house.
keyboard, mouse, printer
and all of the internet
dangling...

with my TEACHERS ever-present,
wide awake and holding all beings,
watching me here from photos,
a mosaic of compassion
tacked on my wall...

over my breakfast BOWL now empty,
save for the spoon glued to its bottom
by oatmeal and dried fruit.
it invites a stretch down the hall,
back to the kitchen...

as the big brick box of the SCHOOL
booms with amplified administrative authority.
it blankets the neighborhood but talks over the heads
of the children screaming and laughing
on the playground...

and the clouds steaming ever-eastward,
across the great LAKE, michigan
which is big enough to be seen from space
but is resting now in pieces,
between tall buildings...

on my desk.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

#12
reinhard kuchenmueller

der fischer ist ein florian,
zieht wie die maus die dichter an.
ein herz aus samt, auf das mein kater
sein koepfchen legt.
wuerd wie im maerchen fische fangen,
mit eurozeichen auf den wangen,
ganz unbewegt.

or something similar in english:

the fisherman is florian,
attracting poets like the mouse.
a heart of velvet, where my cat
can rest it's head.
he would go fishing funny fishes,
with euro-signs, alive or dead,
in fairy tales instead.

-------------------------------------------------------------

#13
jeff aitken

And it came to pass that chaos ruled the land.
and fear arose, the sounds of shallow cries,
as people nailed boards across their doors,
and gathered food, and slept by candlelight.

and in despair the leaders huddled close,
and broadcast weary speeches from someplace.
but then a child among us found a book
and let a smile light her shadowed face.

she took two days to walk the quiet streets
and fill a cardboard box with items five,
as fine as gold they were, yet light and cheap;
she left her piggy bank inside the store.

come out, she called, at sunrise. come and see!
and slowly people gathered in the square.
come look, she cried. come close; they're in the box.
all that we need to lift our souls is there.

by now, dear list, you know what she had found.
let's name them one by one together, friends.
the simple tools we use to do our work
then brought the land together once again:

a box of
a roll of
a pad of
a ream of
a pair of

---------------------------------------------------------------------

#14
dan chay

Positive Aspects of Negative Space

>>From the black morning DARKNESS of the window
our grey CAT mews back at me
just beyond my own flat dazed REFLECTION
on the other side of my glowing MONITOR
past this becoming of black pixels on

white OPEN SPACE
poem?

-------------------------------------------------------------------

#15
audrey coward

gifts

My hand holds my favorite PEN
    space opens space closes
    Memories reawaken
    My pen is a gift from my only child
    space closes space opens
    My eyes enjoy the sight of a SCULPTURE
        mother and son
        holding each other in love
        carefully bought for me
        he was thirteen
    Memories reawaken
    space opens space closes
    I touch my "STAR SHAPED BOX"
    A gift from a special friend
    space closes space opens
    My mouse is a gift from my only child
    space closes space opens
    My COMPUTER connects me to the gift of you
    My soul is soothed
    space opens...

-------------------------------------------------------------------

#16
alan stewart

When I raise my sights
I see a place where creatures of all descriptions
come to meet with their mates, have a dip,
take a long cool draft, preen in the sun,
then whirr off into the blue.

A place in which I noticed with new eyes
the wonder of flight
which brings feathered friends and bumblebees daily to
the circle of their birdbath.

Higher in my sights are lanky limbed eucalypts
Swaying in the breeze like overgrown parsley;
ever survivors of great bushfires,
reminding me that I am in Australia
or could this be California?

Whichever, I'm in the right space right now.

Lowering my eyes I confront a source of
delight, terror, connection, surprise.
Not ever knowing what today will bring
with its messages from fellow travellers
on our precious little planet.
Yet ever ready to click send/rec -
sometimes with great trepidation -
to reveal whatever happens
to be lurking behind the screensaver.

And to respond or to initiate in time.

Always there, not always hot wired
(the law of two ears applies)
is the wondrous brainchild of
Signor Marconi.
I remember when two or more playmates
tuned in together, in rapture to 'Top of the Pops.'
Now it’s just it and me, as I do
my sometimes lonely, anxious rearranging.
Constant companion in the wee hours,
with its voices of affirmation.

And catching my musing eye
is a reminder
of how from time immemorial
we humans have renewed things the way they were
by using energy wisely, softly,
with no reliance on non renewables.
Nature's abundant warmth and wind
drying the washing on the line.

I acknowledge the gift of the invitation
to notice and reflect on these things.
And now these musings are over.

---------------------------------------------------------

#18
judi richardson

 Learning -- a movement from moment to moment?
 This moment an everyday desk holds learning.
 A rock sits strong in its vulnerability,
 A ring of keys reminding — the key is the same,
     regardless of the situation,
 A picture of a bridge -- crossing from effort to active stillness,
 A calendar -- subtle in its illusion of accountability.
 Glancing quickly at the window,
 A snow encased tree branch nods up and down in the wind
 affirming the stark reality of nothing.
 What is less than nothing?

------------------------------------------------------------

#19
peggy holman

I look up in time to see a hummingbird fly by (on a winter day!)
My telephone calls my name (not humming)
The printer whines, churning out the page I just requested.
A rose, painted on silk, memories of my Russian friend
greets me as I look up again.
My partner quietly working alone beside me completes the picture.
Sights, sounds, smells of work, love, play surround my desk
Keeping the space open for whoever comes, whatever happens.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

#20
chrsitine whitney sanchez

Some Blessings of Open Space
Show Up in My Work Space:
Smile, Focus, Gift, Connection, Trust

Dalai Lama
Ocean of Compassion
standing in my desert
bowing his smile.

Mountain Lion Mama
Princess of Power
drinking from the stream
reflecting her focus.

Calendar Wombat
Sturdy Little Fellow
winking his containment.
sharing Aussie Alan’s gift.

Rainbow of Floppies
Creativity Capturers
Waiting for expression
Serving the connection.

Apache Creation Story
Blue Road Messenger
Beaming Thunder Beings
Telling me to trust.

------------------------------------------------------

#21
lisa heft

Five Things At My Desk, January 14th, 2001

A shell that looks like a butterfly.
My mother used to collect them
   and place them on the windowsills
And every time she would pass them
   she would tap them lightly and
   set them to fluttering...

Ethel, my cat.
She sits by my side when I am at my desk.
She is my administrative assistant,
   periodically filing papers onto the floor.
I lean over to put my face in her fur.

An old photo of Rodney Heft holding the baby Lisa.
She is in a fluffy dress and is sucking on a finger.
She looks hesitant and shy.
My, how she's grown.
Still loves her daddy.

An illustration of three horses.
Colored pencils on yellow grid paper.
An early Lisa Heft,
   drawn by the daughter at her father's drafting table.

A photo of Laurel, Rick and I.
We are in their red kitchen
Warm and relaxed and showing the beautiful plates of food
   Nuran has cooked for us.
Warm food, warm friendship.

Family surrounds me.

---------------------------------------------------------------

#22
toke paludan møller

Do I dare - do we ?

Do we dare
Bring our hearts to the center

To the center of our own lives
To where we live ?
To how we work ?
To where we love ?
To how we learn ?

To simply see the world from real me ?

Oh what could life be ?
For me and we

If courage we found
To break new groundS

Do I dare ?

-------------------------------------------------------------

#23
joelle lyons everett

Waking Up

Gray winter sky
dark, heavy and silent.
Hot black coffee warming
my body as I sit with the day.
Handful of crow feathers, my token
for the raucous voice of truth and magic.
Your fiery voice, warming the blue-grey screen
with passion, compassion, the pleasure of shared laughter.
Poems, a trickle then a growing stream,
melt the silence of this winter's day.

-------------------------------------------------------------

#24
david adams

Seen and Unseen

Old stones shaped by uncountable tides adorn my desk,
silver inkpot (shining gift of love),
ceramic piglet fashioned by once tiny hands
(still surprised by its existance),
wooden stand for open books, and -
this Gateway through which I connect
with an unseen universe

Seen things, savoured in affection and in daily use,
enlisted as unwitting architects of desk doings and desk space,
servants of desk imaginings

Unseen, the space between is active, attentive, unknowing -
supplying an eternity of forgiveness

An opportunity for angels

--------------------------------------------------------------

#25
jim metcalf

Creative Space

Silence holds the open space
In tension. Striving with its
Own being, creative space
Changes without changing as
Silence grows and tension grows
Until a word is spoken:
Open space. Creative Space.

Tension holds space open now -
Talking tenses listening now.
Will listeners take two feet
And walk, or talkers? The hearts
Are trembling to know what they
Themselves will do. Tension grows.
Open Space, Creative Space.

Talking resolves with listening
As space opens, hearts open.
Listeners caring for talkers,
Talkers for listeners, balance
The caring of a heart for
Another , for self, until
Space opens creatively.

-----------------------------------------------------------

#26
laurel doersam

the space in my sight glancing into a mirror

I've turned into a Rennaissance painting!
Picture this:
an extra thirty pounds adorns my thighs and torso,
my eyes are Mona Lisa-esque
(read that "no lashes or brows")
the only thing missing is the long, flowing tresses.
I do, however, have a very short,
snappy wig interwoven with a passle of white hairs -
it's quite a good rug, but ITCHY.  I'm still quite startled
every time I inadvertently glance into a mirror.

-----------------------------------------------------------

#27
julie smith

peace lily inhales
young eagle considers flight
Creation watches

wizard nods his head
soft green tendrils rise from dust
all life tugs forward

painted moon peers down
wind quiets   ---   to a whisper
One silently waits

glass dragonfly ? soars?
paradox of captured flight
flying yet not free

flying snowman ? smiles?
pasted glee is misery?
confusion rising

II
pale pink dawn arrives
snow tipped branches greeting sky
One wonders, waiting

dancing dust motes glide
wide open space, half-closed eyes
unbound life, alive!

steady heart beating
One door opens, inviting ---
ah  ---  missed mystery!

top spins round and round
swirling choices make their rounds
---  stillness beckons now  ---

steady heart beating
One door opens, inviting ---
Unbound Life, Alive!

Wide Open Spaces!
Bursting Life, Unknown Places!
All Ways Expanding!

pale pink dawn departs
snow tipped branches deeply sigh
One pleased, beaming

III

flying snowman ? Smiles!
pasted glee is One with me ---
gleaming Joy growing

glass dragonfly ? Soars!
iridescent wings Glowing
colored Light dancing

Wizened painted moon
cherished Patient silent friend
now content, Smiling

wizard Stretching wide
Grasping lighting bolt from sky
all Life bows, grinning

 peace lily exhales
all the world considers flight
Creation watches

-------------------------------------------------------

florian fischer

five capital letters in my sight

TH' END

florian fischer
begleitung im wandel
muenchener 6
10779 berlin
fon 0049.30. 2116752
fax 0049.30. 2115943
florianfischer at ff-wey.com

--------------23310997D3672876B65BF54B
Content-Type: text/html; charset=iso-8859-1
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit

<!doctype html public "-//w3c//dtd html 4.0 transitional//en">
<html>
dear OSLIST !
now let me strike up the cymbels  for to converge
 the rich harvest of 27 poems we´ve got
 initiated under the motto
 "five objects in the space of my sight"
every text has a number as if it had come in.
 i edit it under the name of the authors
 because every text had been sent under
 the name of its author to the list, so we knew
 already from whom it is, and we knew us together
 to be familiar instead of formal.
without asking her
 i take aine corrigans insight as part of the contest to start with.
 hi, aine, please be so kind to agree.
 like laurel agreed when i asked her to give
 a special part of her letter as poetry into the  contest.
now, every one of you all there
 has five (5) virtual sticky dots to spend.
 put the five dots to the poem or the poems
 which are telling you "it´s me to be dotted"
the author of the poem which will get most of the dots
 will be named as the next oslist poet laureate.
 that is mainly including the honour to open space and to hold space
 for the next following semiannual oslist poetry contest.
 beside that he or she will get a little gift .....
and let me say, the contest, as i understand it, is not to
 elect or to decide about best of poetry, but is  to encourage
 everybody of us to give space  and voice to the poetic aspect
in everyday life
 and in our work. as it had been established from our friend ralph copleman.
please let me know up to the 2nd of february
 how you have spent your 5 dots
 to what numbers of the poems.
 for example:
 #.. / 2,   #.. / 2,    #.. / 1
 please send it  to me:
 florianfischer at ff-wey.com
thank you authors for taking part
 thank you all for listening
 thank you all for joining now in convergence.
 florian fischer
----------------------------------------------
 #1
 aine corrigan
 5 words in-sight:
"Thank you space, for everything"
 ------------------------------------------------
 #2
 jeff aitken
"(W)e have moved from product- and service-driven stages of the economy
to
 an era that is driven by staging and co-creating customer experiences..."
 -- Illuminating the Blind Spot: Leadership in the Context of Emerging
 Worlds (Arthur, Senge, et al, 2000)
  
Like a lily it flowers from base to wide mouth,
 its sharp edges softened for contact with lips:
 this glass is a giver of sustenance.
Five experiences surround my desk
 waiting calmly in their guise as things.
 let us gently lift their veils:
Comfort is dressed as a black desk lamp.
 safety rests easy, disguised as a map.
 pleasure awaits its unfoldment as apple.
But here is the most transparent being:
 this old white telephone is love.
 look! it is not always love that flows thru,
But that it is made is love. to lift this slim handle
 and feel the softening heart of my father,
 what else can it be?
And now all five call out to me:
 let us be a love economy.
----------------------------------------------------
#3
 jeff aitken
lamp apple phone map glass
 glass map apple phone lamp
 apple phone lamp glass map
 map lamp glass apple phone
 phone glass map lamp apple
-----------------------------------------------------
#4
 jeff aitken
apple apple lamp lamp
 map apple lamp lamp
 apple apple glass glass phone
apple apple glass glass
 lamp apple map map
 apple glass map lamp map phone
--
glass glass
 glass glass
 glass glass glass
 glass glass
 phone map apple
  lamp
 phone map apple
  lamp
glass glass
 glass glass
 glass glass glass
 glass phone
 map lamp apple
 glass
 glass glass phone
---------------------------------------------------
#5
 cris corrigan
WHAT IS ON THE TABLE
A vase that Vivienne left us
 Stuffed with dried lavender from the summer
A wine bottle, green with emptiness
 Its spirit having been drained
A half empty tea cup
 Whose contents have filled me with insomnia
And delirious contemplation
 Of a school of rice cake crumbs
That have spread across the stained pine
 Like a creeping army of sadness
In search of their temporary state of communion
 Mourning their rediscovered agency
----------------------------------------------------
#6
 harrison owen
  
What's on the Desk?
 Not a lot.
 A pen for writing I haven't done.
 Spectacles for tired eyes.
 A coffee cup still hot.
 And in the back
 With blinking green eyes
 My network router
 Connecting
 To all the world.
 What's on the desk?
 You.
-----------------------------------------------------
#7
 ralph copleman
poem about everything
i
 like
 this
 a
 lot
------------------------------------------------------
#8
 ralph copleman
The Purpose of Butterflies
It1s rumored
 west winds begin with
 a single thought from you, showy Lepido,
 fluttering still pale air,
 stirring the atmosphere1s slightest doubts
 into creases, notions, rising torments
 blowing fulvous skies over the Pacific
 and reaching my sandy shores in soaking torrents.
Meadows1 breathy pastels,
 serrated stripings, lustrous primary slashes,
 rainbow glow, sky fire1s full flush.
 Needlework on a timeless, frameless canvas,
To look that good,
 for exclusive rights to the most fruitful coalescence,
 to unfold heaven1s radiant robes
 you will never glimpse,
 you sifted genes through brightening strainers,
 twinging at the level of chromosomes
 for just the right hues,
 coding whom to attract, what to mimic
 to make a decent living,
 You could have gone for simple stealth,
 or murder-loving camouflage,
 You chose
 to be seen.
------------------------------------------------------------
#9
 winston kinch
Hmmm... lets see... five things... around me on my desk...
  
a buzzard pinion waiting
 in a bamboo cup
 for the gentle breath of love
 to lift it up
to soar with a bronze eagle
 wave a magic wand
 move us past the rage and pain
 that's swept the land
of course Pooh is here as well
 talking stick on lap
 always opening more space...
 for you? mayhap!
-----------------------------------------------------------
#10
 esther ewing
  
Five things on my desk?
Coffee, steaming,
 Waking me to my blessings
 Perking me up...
Pen, pointed,
 Poised for perception,
 Or banality...
Camera, full of good times
 Captured but fleeting
 Family and friends...
Computer, open to email,
 A window to good friends and
 Ideas...
My heart, engaged and en-spirited,
 Within and among and
 On my sleeve,
 Open and spacious.
-------------------------------------------------------------
#11
 michael herman
suite 1105
LAPTOP sits atop old cardboard box,
 in a trick i learned at lisa heft's house.
 keyboard, mouse, printer
 and all of the internet
 dangling...
with my TEACHERS ever-present,
 wide awake and holding all beings,
 watching me here from photos,
 a mosaic of compassion
 tacked on my wall...
over my breakfast BOWL now empty,
 save for the spoon glued to its bottom
 by oatmeal and dried fruit.
 it invites a stretch down the hall,
 back to the kitchen...
as the big brick box of the SCHOOL
 booms with amplified administrative authority.
 it blankets the neighborhood but talks over the heads
 of the children screaming and laughing
 on the playground...
and the clouds steaming ever-eastward,
 across the great LAKE, michigan
 which is big enough to be seen from space
 but is resting now in pieces,
 between tall buildings...
on my desk.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
#12
 reinhard kuchenmueller
der fischer ist ein florian,
 zieht wie die maus die dichter an.
 ein herz aus samt, auf das mein kater
 sein koepfchen legt.
 wuerd wie im maerchen fische fangen,
 mit eurozeichen auf den wangen,
 ganz unbewegt.
or something similar in english:
the fisherman is florian,
 attracting poets like the mouse.
 a heart of velvet, where my cat
 can rest it's head.
 he would go fishing funny fishes,
 with euro-signs, alive or dead,
 in fairy tales instead.
-------------------------------------------------------------
#13
 jeff aitken
And it came to pass that chaos ruled the land.
 and fear arose, the sounds of shallow cries,
 as people nailed boards across their doors,
 and gathered food, and slept by candlelight.
and in despair the leaders huddled close,
 and broadcast weary speeches from someplace.
 but then a child among us found a book
 and let a smile light her shadowed face.
she took two days to walk the quiet streets
 and fill a cardboard box with items five,
 as fine as gold they were, yet light and cheap;
 she left her piggy bank inside the store.
come out, she called, at sunrise. come and see!
 and slowly people gathered in the square.
 come look, she cried. come close; they're in the box.
 all that we need to lift our souls is there.
by now, dear list, you know what she had found.
 let's name them one by one together, friends.
 the simple tools we use to do our work
 then brought the land together once again:
a box of
 a roll of
 a pad of
 a ream of
 a pair of
---------------------------------------------------------------------
#14
 dan chay
Positive Aspects of Negative Space
>From the black morning DARKNESS of the window
 our grey CAT mews back at me
 just beyond my own flat dazed REFLECTION
 on the other side of my glowing MONITOR
 past this becoming of black pixels on
white OPEN SPACE
 poem?
-------------------------------------------------------------------
#15
 audrey coward
gifts
My hand holds my favorite PEN
     space opens space closes
     Memories reawaken
     My pen is a gift from my only child
     space closes space opens
     My eyes enjoy the sight of a SCULPTURE
         mother and son
         holding each other in love
         carefully bought for me
         he was thirteen
     Memories reawaken
     space opens space closes
     I touch my "STAR SHAPED BOX"
     A gift from a special friend
     space closes space opens
     My mouse is a gift from my only child
     space closes space opens
     My COMPUTER connects me to the gift of you
     My soul is soothed
     space opens...
-------------------------------------------------------------------
#16
 alan stewart
  
When I raise my sights
 I see a place where creatures of all descriptions
 come to meet with their mates, have a dip,
 take a long cool draft, preen in the sun,
 then whirr off into the blue.
A place in which I noticed with new eyes
 the wonder of flight
 which brings feathered friends and bumblebees daily to
 the circle of their birdbath.
Higher in my sights are lanky limbed eucalypts
 Swaying in the breeze like overgrown parsley;
 ever survivors of great bushfires,
 reminding me that I am in Australia
 or could this be California?
Whichever, I'm in the right space right now.
Lowering my eyes I confront a source of
 delight, terror, connection, surprise.
 Not ever knowing what today will bring
 with its messages from fellow travellers
 on our precious little planet.
 Yet ever ready to click send/rec -
 sometimes with great trepidation -
 to reveal whatever happens
 to be lurking behind the screensaver.
And to respond or to initiate in time.
Always there, not always hot wired
 (the law of two ears applies)
 is the wondrous brainchild of
 Signor Marconi.
 I remember when two or more playmates
 tuned in together, in rapture to 'Top of the Pops.'
 Now it’s just it and me, as I do
 my sometimes lonely, anxious rearranging.
 Constant companion in the wee hours,
 with its voices of affirmation.
And catching my musing eye
 is a reminder
 of how from time immemorial
 we humans have renewed things the way they were
 by using energy wisely, softly,
 with no reliance on non renewables.
 Nature's abundant warmth and wind
 drying the washing on the line.
I acknowledge the gift of the invitation
 to notice and reflect on these things.
 And now these musings are over.
---------------------------------------------------------
#18
 judi richardson
 Learning -- a movement from moment to moment?
  This moment an everyday desk holds learning.
  A rock sits strong in its vulnerability,
  A ring of keys reminding — the key is the same,
      regardless of the situation,
  A picture of a bridge -- crossing from effort to active stillness,
  A calendar -- subtle in its illusion of accountability.
  Glancing quickly at the window,
  A snow encased tree branch nods up and down in the wind
  affirming the stark reality of nothing.
  What is less than nothing?
------------------------------------------------------------
#19
 peggy holman
  
I look up in time to see a hummingbird fly by (on a winter day!)
 My telephone calls my name (not humming)
 The printer whines, churning out the page I just requested.
 A rose, painted on silk, memories of my Russian friend
 greets me as I look up again.
 My partner quietly working alone beside me completes the picture.
 Sights, sounds, smells of work, love, play surround my desk
 Keeping the space open for whoever comes, whatever happens.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
#20
 chrsitine whitney sanchez
  
  
Some Blessings of Open Space
 Show Up in My Work Space:
 Smile, Focus, Gift, Connection, Trust
  
Dalai Lama
 Ocean of Compassion
 standing in my desert
 bowing his smile.
Mountain Lion Mama
 Princess of Power
 drinking from the stream
 reflecting her focus.
Calendar Wombat
 Sturdy Little Fellow
 winking his containment.
 sharing Aussie Alan’s gift.
Rainbow of Floppies
 Creativity Capturers
 Waiting for expression
 Serving the connection.
Apache Creation Story
 Blue Road Messenger
 Beaming Thunder Beings
 Telling me to trust.
------------------------------------------------------
#21
 lisa heft
Five Things At My Desk, January 14th, 2001
A shell that looks like a butterfly.
 My mother used to collect them
    and place them on the windowsills
 And every time she would pass them
    she would tap them lightly and
    set them to fluttering...
Ethel, my cat.
 She sits by my side when I am at my desk.
 She is my administrative assistant,
    periodically filing papers onto the floor.
 I lean over to put my face in her fur.
An old photo of Rodney Heft holding the baby Lisa.
 She is in a fluffy dress and is sucking on a finger.
 She looks hesitant and shy.
 My, how she's grown.
 Still loves her daddy.
An illustration of three horses.
 Colored pencils on yellow grid paper.
 An early Lisa Heft,
    drawn by the daughter at her father's drafting table.
A photo of Laurel, Rick and I.
 We are in their red kitchen
 Warm and relaxed and showing the beautiful plates of food
    Nuran has cooked for us.
 Warm food, warm friendship.
Family surrounds me.
---------------------------------------------------------------
#22
 toke paludan møller
Do I dare - do we ?
Do we dare
 Bring our hearts to the center
To the center of our own lives
 To where we live ?
 To how we work ?
 To where we love ?
 To how we learn ?
To simply see the world from real me ?
Oh what could life be ?
 For me and we
If courage we found
 To break new groundS
Do I dare ?
-------------------------------------------------------------
#23
 joelle lyons everett
Waking Up
Gray winter sky
 dark, heavy and silent.
 Hot black coffee warming
 my body as I sit with the day.
 Handful of crow feathers, my token
 for the raucous voice of truth and magic.
 Your fiery voice, warming the blue-grey screen
 with passion, compassion, the pleasure of shared laughter.
 Poems, a trickle then a growing stream,
 melt the silence of this winter's day.
-------------------------------------------------------------
#24
 david adams
Seen and Unseen
Old stones shaped by uncountable tides adorn my desk,
 silver inkpot (shining gift of love),
 ceramic piglet fashioned by once tiny hands
 (still surprised by its existance),
 wooden stand for open books, and -
 this Gateway through which I connect
 with an unseen universe
Seen things, savoured in affection and in daily use,
 enlisted as unwitting architects of desk doings and desk space,
 servants of desk imaginings
Unseen, the space between is active, attentive, unknowing -
 supplying an eternity of forgiveness
An opportunity for angels
--------------------------------------------------------------
#25
 jim metcalf
Creative Space
Silence holds the open space
 In tension. Striving with its
 Own being, creative space
 Changes without changing as
 Silence grows and tension grows
 Until a word is spoken:
 Open space. Creative Space.
Tension holds space open now -
 Talking tenses listening now.
 Will listeners take two feet
 And walk, or talkers? The hearts
 Are trembling to know what they
 Themselves will do. Tension grows.
 Open Space, Creative Space.
Talking resolves with listening
 As space opens, hearts open.
 Listeners caring for talkers,
 Talkers for listeners, balance
 The caring of a heart for
 Another , for self, until
 Space opens creatively.
-----------------------------------------------------------
#26
 laurel doersam
the space in my sight glancing into a mirror
I've turned into a Rennaissance painting!
 Picture this:
 an extra thirty pounds adorns my thighs and torso,
 my eyes are Mona Lisa-esque
 (read that "no lashes or brows")
 the only thing missing is the long, flowing tresses.
 I do, however, have a very short,
 snappy wig interwoven with a passle of white hairs -
 it's quite a good rug, but ITCHY.  I'm still quite startled
 every time I inadvertently glance into a mirror.
-----------------------------------------------------------
#27
 julie smith
  
peace lily inhales
 young eagle considers flight
 Creation watches
wizard nods his head
 soft green tendrils rise from dust
 all life tugs forward
painted moon peers down
 wind quiets --- to a whisper
 One silently waits
glass dragonfly ? soars?
 paradox of captured flight
 flying yet not free
flying snowman ? smiles?
 pasted glee is misery?
 confusion rising
II
 pale pink dawn arrives
 snow tipped branches greeting sky
 One wonders, waiting
dancing dust motes glide
 wide open space, half-closed eyes
 unbound life, alive!
steady heart beating
 One door opens, inviting ---
 ah --- missed mystery!
top spins round and round
 swirling choices make their rounds
 --- stillness beckons now ---
steady heart beating
 One door opens, inviting ---
 Unbound Life, Alive!
Wide Open Spaces!
 Bursting Life, Unknown Places!
 All Ways Expanding!
pale pink dawn departs
 snow tipped branches deeply sigh
 One pleased, beaming
  
III
flying snowman ? Smiles!
 pasted glee is One with me ---
 gleaming Joy growing
glass dragonfly ? Soars!
 iridescent wings Glowing
 colored Light dancing
Wizened painted moon
 cherished Patient silent friend
 now content, Smiling
wizard Stretching wide
 Grasping lighting bolt from sky
 all Life bows, grinning
 peace lily exhales
 all the world considers flight
 Creation watches
-------------------------------------------------------
florian fischer
five capital letters in my sight
TH' END
  
  
florian fischer
 begleitung im wandel
 muenchener 6
 10779 berlin
 fon 0049.30. 2116752
 fax 0049.30. 2115943
 florianfischer at ff-wey.com
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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>From  Mon Jan 28 00:33:15 2002
Message-Id: <MON.28.JAN.2002.003315.0100.>
Date: Mon, 28 Jan 2002 00:33:15 +0100
Reply-To: florianfischer at ff-wey.com
To: OSLIST <OSLIST at LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU>
From: florian fischer <florianfischer at ff-wey.com>
Subject: Re: AW: Copyrights
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: multipart/alternative;
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Visuelle Protokolle schrieb:

> once upon a time,
>
>
>
> reinhard
> you are not only a master in poetic visualization by drawing
> you are as well a master in poetic visualization by words.
> i like the picture.
> thank you well
> florian

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<p>Visuelle Protokolle schrieb:
<blockquote TYPE=CITE><span class=469032311-25012002><font face="Verdana"><font color="#0000FF"><font size=-1>once
upon a time,</font></font></font>
<br> 
<br> 
<p><font face="Verdana"><font color="#0000FF"><font size=-1>reinhard</font></font></font>
<br><font face="Verdana"><font color="#0000FF"><font size=-1>you are not
only a master in poetic visualization by drawing</font></font></font>
<br><font face="Verdana"><font color="#0000FF"><font size=-1>you are as
well a master in poetic visualization by words.</font></font></font>
<br><font face="Verdana"><font color="#0000FF"><font size=-1>i like the
picture.</font></font></font>
<br><font face="Verdana"><font color="#0000FF"><font size=-1>thank you
well</font></font></font>
<br><font face="Verdana"><font color="#0000FF"><font size=-1>florian</font></font></font></blockquote>

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>From  Mon Jan 28 00:34:44 2002
Message-Id: <MON.28.JAN.2002.003444.0100.>
Date: Mon, 28 Jan 2002 00:34:44 +0100
Reply-To: florianfischer at ff-wey.com
To: OSLIST <OSLIST at LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU>
From: florian fischer <florianfischer at ff-wey.com>
Subject: Re: ERROR!  Please delete my last message
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: multipart/alternative;
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don´t worry glory
i, for example, deleted it promply without reading.
florian

Glory Ressler schrieb:

> Everyone,
> I am mortified to realize that I just sent a private email intended
> for Chris Weaver to the entire list!!!
> I am horrified that I clogged this bandwidth with such a personal
> sharing!
> Please delete... Geez, I feel incredibly exposed and vulnerable!
>
> best,
> glory
> 'If it isn't a happy ending, our story isn't over yet.'

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don´t worry glory
 i, for example, deleted it promply without reading.
 florian
Glory Ressler schrieb:
<blockquote TYPE=CITE>Everyone,
 I am mortified to realize that I just sent a private email intended
for Chris Weaver to the entire list!!!
 I am horrified that I clogged this bandwidth with such a personal sharing!
 Please delete... Geez, I feel incredibly exposed and vulnerable!
best,
 glory
 'If it isn't a happy ending, our story isn't over yet.'</blockquote>
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>From  Mon Jan 28 00:35:07 2002
Message-Id: <MON.28.JAN.2002.003507.0100.>
Date: Mon, 28 Jan 2002 00:35:07 +0100
Reply-To: florianfischer at ff-wey.com
To: OSLIST <OSLIST at LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU>
From: florian fischer <florianfischer at ff-wey.com>
Subject: Re: User's Non Guide - copyrights and other rights
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii; x-mac-type="54455854";
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Harrison Owen schrieb:

> .....being Israel trying to open a little space... which became a rather closed today as the madness continues. My morning started with the leadership school of the Army -- they want to open space. Then we had the bombing...

harrison
with tova
with avner
take care
blessings
florian

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