If my life were a movie
I’d be in a montage scene right now
They really gloss over the stamina it takes
To be a long distance runner
When you’re only familiar
With sprinting
— There’s no finish line?
I saw a puppy dog in your eyes
I consulted with the night
“Is this a disguise?”
I waited and waited but heard no reply.
I heard an old soul in your voice
I questioned my spirit guides
“Have I before made this choice?”
They laughed and whispered, “Silly pride.”
I retrieved a fiery star
from a faraway realm
“I felt something stir,
and he felt like home.”
“O foolish girl,
we’ve told you before;
you’ll know when you feel it,
you know you need more.”
I combed with my eyes,
searched above and below,
searched within faces,
searched for what I know.
Unexpected, unexpected,
was the whisper from the moon.
Unexpected, unexpected —
but was that going to be soon?
There’s a craving and a longing,
like I’ve come unmoored.
There’s an anxious buzzing dancing,
and I’m yearning to be cured.
Seeking through external,
same mistake as before.
I know it when I feel it,
I know going in means more.
I released the burning star
“What does unexpected mean?”
“You’re missing the point,
stop playing ordinary being.”
I imagined I saw pain in your eyes.
I confessed to the night
“He reflects my disguise.”
“Your wisdom grows,” the dark replied.
I felt a soft soul on your skin,
but the imprints came from mind.
I recognized my old soul from within,
and promised, “This time I’ll be kind.”
The pain I’ve caused in countless lives,
has come against me stacked
with loneliness as a simple karmic scale
bringing balance when with patience I react.
I accept and cultivate pure love
as an antidote to suffering – both mine
and yours – and with gratitude to guides above
heart embrace, entwine and with universe align.
Virtue and emptiness and wisdom and union
through my intention, ultimate and supreme
with universal compassion, the ultimate communion
and above all else, I will remember the dream.
The space between 1 and 2 is the
same infinite quality as between 2 and 3
Not the same space
different aspects
Yes the same nature
infinite
∞
Are we artists all the same?
we, the multi-disciplined
divining a spiritual path
questioning unquestioned reform
Novelist, short story author, essayist, poet, painter
We have a list beside our names
objectifying our existence
and grounding us a permanent fixture
While we strive for freedom
against false gravity
the weight of awards and titles
the pain the being misunderstood
consistently
The artist is but a reflection of the mind
the life a play, a temporary gimmick
a genius’ work is rarely critiqued
by a mind of equal stature
The spiritual path appears to isolate
and still we cannot help but wonder
when others will understand
that it was worth it in the end
Can I tempt?
Can I tease?
Can I bring you to your knees?
I never knew I had a power
then I heard the beggar plead
He needed more, he begged to give
He needed more of me to live
I did laugh
I did cry
and to his horror, I denied
I never knew I had a power
then I saw the beggar die
I needed more, I begged to give
I needed more of them to live
I did tempt
I did tease
and I tried my best to please
I disbelieved I had a power
And so delusion ruled with ease
I faded in, I faded out,
I turned to faith from foolish doubt
I did laugh
I did cry
in compassion I now abide
I believe I have a power
and with love I purify
I know you
Do you know me?
I cannot help but note the tragedy
of new lives lived with no memory
of old lives discarded though they’re
the very foundation of the new!
— no memory
you have of me
or I’d have seen
some bloody action by now —
or maybe you’re tied down —
she’s got you on the tracks
while I’m off the beaten path
and I’m calling out loud
— but you can’t hear me
you don’t know me
you can’t see me
you’ve forgotten —
I had too
but now I’ve seen —
no. I felt the tug,
a heart string plucked
and yearned anew
for only you
as if I’d done this many times before
a feeling I could not ignore
familiar and odd — uncanny
when you looked at me
with no knowledge of
the touches I gave long ago
time erases and time has passed
ages since we danced in the afterglow
— now no memory,
though time did slow
when you looked at me
and my heart beat so rhymically
as if we’d done this all before
— and yet, no more
as you walked away
I longed to say
what I’m looking for —
Enlightenment, and is it at your door?
I wish to be rich and it’s such
delusions that keep me poor
tempt me tease me all you want
— or do not —
I still remember you
do let me know if I can stir
a memory —
do you know me?
I have promised patience
in exchange for a kingdom of happiness
I have promised patience
in exchange for an appearance of love
I have promised patience
in exchange for unattached enjoyments
I have promised patience
for you, so we can complete the path together
So I wait, like a princess in her tower
with patience, my Buddha nature I empower
I promised patience, and I wait for you
with faith unwavering, my heart is true.
Why do you torture me?
Does your eye boast truth
or do mine bear fiction?
I write lies to soothe me to sleep
a samsaric slumber steeped in tales of attachment,
happiness served on a silver platter
just a taste and, absent of addiction,
I’ll be satisfied — just your touch
and I’ll not want more — a lie
like salt water quenching thirst —
only thirstier I grow for
— just your tongue lending sweet
nothings to an indiscriminate ear
incorrectly discriminating — just your
taste to tease unintentional senses
dependent upon such sour
senseless ignorance dependent upon
countless causes, rebirths, misunderstood
and non-existent selfs — but maybe still,
it’s just your self that will satisfy this self
& somehow, still, we will escape samsara
— a lie of attachment, a joke, a wink
Is that what you mean to give,
when you torture me?
I lost your number
a long time ago
— right away
after the lock broke
it was clear
I couldn’t be trusted
how things have changed
and mistaken memory
makes you
bigger, then smaller than
you were, are
who are you now?
I wonder
I lost my privilege
to know
the you
grown in moments
now passed
I want to be
someone who loves you
with no demands
with no expectations
with no history of delusion
I want to be
the pure love always within you
yet still,
I cherish only myself
I want you to see me
I want you to love me
because of this
damned self-grasping
And then I laugh remembering
we is just a dream
The Halfwit Writer