© 2020  Eric Archer - All Rights Reserved 

Mirror Contemplating Mirror
00:00 / 03:26

Mirror contemplating Mirror

A snakeskin tied in knots, 

the gathering of heat, a scent of light

Restless.

I cannot know every one of your faces, and I will 

In a moment silently sung twice over. 

Re-collecting reflection, pre-practicing resurrection 

No witness can confirm the practice, and I am 

Over. again. 

Chanting like water, dying like spring 

A Wild, flowering 

for we have chosen to measure the present in pulses, molding 

the bottom of your soul is the threshold of the world, beholding

Each filling their cup beneath a waterfall 

praising the land as lord

The land speaks first 

Today is not a word, it is an exclamation!

An in-struction

The fifth direction

Apprentices of the unmediated sky,

Know all else is a collective hunch.

The past in particles,

The future in waves

Old tomorrows remember we can’t be owned by our ways.

 

So be careful when you cast out your unknown that you do not 

Cast out that which is the best within you 

 

That soil of silence is alive

Speaking, in ears

Listening, in tongues 

The witness collapses 

Cannot Re-schedule the sun.

 

This must be the scaling down,

The quieting up. out. breath. 

Each will know The practice of death 

No word has touched it, no tongue soiled it

The Unswallowed secret. 

 

and yet you too have overheard your own truth 

Fallen alone in the forest and only the sound of trees listening, as proof

For no reason

For every reason 

where the air truly held our hearts, 

The new season,

No witness can confirm the practice 

And

I am 

108 Oaths
00:00 / 03:30

I have taken 108 oaths of silence 

only to awaken in the night whispering a chorus 

of your names, 

underneath 

the hallowed drum beats the heart’s feet 

from

pulsing inside palms 

open lines midwives to surrender. 

 

I don’t no, I must, yes

what do you understand of me?  

Teach me

name we,  

it will form thee 

from the sound, up 

 

into

disciples of let

prophets of breath

no longer dependent on the dropping of diaphragms 

in debt

 

so the chains are the key 

one note a symphony to seek 

a seed syllable re-seeds(-cedes).

 

the color of water, is the color of the vessel

shape of the note, shape of the hollow 

 

go

 

catalogue the first thousand ways 

to kneel and kiss the ground, 

 

for the beauty’s in our choice 

how we seek to feel the same void

and I choose this noise 

I scream your names 

with your voice.

 

can you let go of your past

all at once? 

no more game of the zero, summed

the closeness of the One

parentage of the Two 

pyramid of the Three

fo(u)r we cannot be simply stuck 

in the body,

more is told,

the body is within the soul, 

all 

at once. 

End for a Means
00:00 / 03:36

The candle’s wick was unbroken

un-extinguished 

for the weight of holding anything 

in a hand. 

A bird

a plane

a pen

o! pen 

flight

feathers falling through the night

with nowhere to fall to

yet the earth still longs to hold them

longs to hold all

the ultimate embrace, 

a duty de-served

de-birth

re-first

the need to suspend the knowing

there everywhere is an everywhen 

the plum as blossom 

again

as an 

 

End 

 

for a means

feather

for a wing

the mute can see the blind can read

feel in the between

seed in the unseen 

as feeling into numbness 

is the waking from this dream 

of life

 

So the path remains

Held

To return to

No need to look too far forward

For the keeper of freedom

Is this step

And it shall be my miracle.

some would have our teachers stand on our shoulders

overburdened with versions of the past

but the past is your memory

the future your dream

find us in the between

seed, in the unseen 

where this step instead ascends

to stand ON our teachers’ shoulders

for their work was so we may continue to weave a new circle

To Grow 

with time

Where each will step out in turn and fall on their knees to worship

each other 

 

as an end

for a means

feather 

for a wing

feeling into numbness is the waking from this dream 

of light.

Eric’s spoken word poetry is a linguistic expression of his musical and artistic passions, and has flowered from his love of teaching meditation, exploring the question, “Where does guided meditation end, and spoken word poetry begin?” They are a form of extended Zen Koan crossed with confessions of faith and prophecy.  Through the use of imagery, self-inquiry, visualization, and metaphor, Eric guides listeners through an experience of collective in-sights, heartbeats, and felt breaths.  
 
Eric has shared his poetry in live music settings, festivals, and workshops in the U.S. and Europe, and is currently compiling his first recorded album/book of poetry.