Tag: death

Poetry

Precipitation

Spring rain washes ‘way
last year’s odd residuals
feelings that won’t stay

Tags buddhist poet, canadian writer, changing seasons, death, discrimination, emptiness, feeling, haiku, Impermanence, poem, Poetry, seasons, short poem, spring

Buddhism Saturday Expressions Visual Artwork

Dawn breaks behind Death & other paintings

Post author By K. Samways
Post date March 7, 2026
No Comments on Dawn breaks behind Death & other paintings

A collection of skulls & such –
Death & Impermanence in ink & watercolour

I will definitely die. There is no way to prevent my body from finally decaying. Day by day, moment by moment, my life is slipping away. I have no idea when I will die; the time of death is completely uncertain. Many young people die before their parents, some die the moment they are born – there is no certainty in this world. Furthermore, there are so many causes of untimely death. The lives of many strong and healthy people are destroyed by accidents. There is no guarantee that I will not die today.

Geshe Kelsang Gyatso, The New Meditation Handbook

Tags Buddhist artist, creative artist, death, emotive art, experimental, feeling, grim reaper, Impermanence, ink, mortal, painting, rebirth, samsara, Saturday Expressions, skull, skull painting, water colour

Poetry

I no longer wish to meet those
who make me regret my virtue
of course, I can’t excuse my own forfeit of mind
and I never would regret virtuous intention
even when challenged!

Instead, I see clearly that in samsara
there exists no real happiness, no good reputation
no wealth, no status, no good condition
not only failure, misery, and criticism
not only lowly status and painful position
but always departing from what we love
and too often meeting what we hate!

So if i have any regret, it’s saved
for actions throwing me lower than the grave
then I purify completely in three more steps
with reliance, opponent force and firm promise
never again laying claim to hateful mind
never again to drink addictive poisons
never again to grasp, to crave
never again to begin again
the beginningless cycle of suffering
this lifetime I break the chain!

I will die without regret
having used every momently wisely
a cause-creator, achieving true happiness

Poetry

breaking down

rattle
    thrum
           POP
              smoke

this time
not to be ignored

life never goes up in flames
just sizzles and fumes
unfavorably

ends not with a bang,
but that goddamned whimper

three hundred thousand miles

(sounds better than five hundred thousand
kill – om (ah hum) – metres)

and you drop dead
(I surmise only one of us wanted
that camping trip)

smoke
        siren
      embarrass-
             meant-for-someone-else

smiling ‘I’m sorry’s,
hoping to get out

(dashed hopes)

just in case you were still wondering:

you’re here to
stay put

(is that an order?)

Tags abstract, art imitates life, creative writing, death, escapism, ignorance, Impermanence, karma, poem, Poetry, reality, reframing, temporary exsitence, wisdom

Poetry

Lost Life Loss

a memory

it is not mine

upon a log I sit

‘neath the snowy pine

under darkened sky

beside earthen stove

a bitter wind kicks up

in the moonlit grove

the jingle of the horse & sleigh

as it carries him so far away

I cannot weep, I do not cry

a muted heart is breaking

and as the silence lies

a frozen bough is snapping – loud

to crack the quiet

still, expected in the freeze

I do not startle, there is no breeze

no wind at back to impel me

my bones have stiffened here

my mind is anything but clear

as the winter’s solitude

forces delusions rather rude

inner quietude never did follow outer

now it’s simply easier to hear

internal screaming

though the fire burns, continuous

it takes us not

because it cannot reach

what we refuse we got

buried below

alive and dead

some peace & love

blessings bestowed

how are these all stripped from me?

as he plods on down the snowy path

I know he won’t be coming back

so I’m wrecked to watch him leave

though it is not my memory

Tags art, attachment, books, creative writing, death, emotion, feeling, grief, karma, loss, Photography, poem, Poetry, robert frost, snowy path, sorrow, winter, writing

Buddhism Philosophy Poetry

Consistently Mistaken

I thought when I received, I would be grateful.

I wasn’t.

I thought to be pursued would be fun, a real romp.

It wasn’t.

I thought to be beheld as beautiful could give me confidence, know my beauty.

It didn’t.

I thought to be loved to could open my heart, make me love.

It couldn’t.

I thought when tested, I would pass.

I didn’t.

“We will only engage in pure spiritual practice if we have definitely understood that we have a precious human life and we have to use it now. We can die today. It’s possible.”
Gen-la Kunsang, Kadampa Podcast

Tags attachment, Buddhism, death, delusions, familiarity, grasping, ignorance, Impermanence, mistaken appearance, non wisdom, renunciation, samsara, self-grasping, wisdom

Poetry Saturday Expressions

Lost harvest | Session 10

Post author By K. Samways
Post date August 27, 2022
No Comments on Lost harvest | Session 10

The fruit on our vine has withered
I long to cut it down, but something stops me

I feel you lurking, breathing on my neck,
wishing I hated that
now unpleasant sensation

You keep appearing to me as a vision
          at my window, at work,
across the road, getting gas or
                                      exploring knee-high weeds,
                             observing afternoon-hot walls

Summer stinks of memories, snorkeling,
the big bug ID book, hidden peacocked notes

Hot days soothed with cold water and
indulgences rare opportunities afford

Not appreciated and never found again

I couldn’t stand to be with you now,
experiencing anew the arrows of your delusions

So why do I crave you at all? Am I so plagued with
inappropriate attention and my own maras?

Cutting the wizened fruit, so something
new can grow, still seems undoable

With a heart full of love, wishing for non-
attachment, I observe

You’re hard to let go.

Tags creative writing, death, ending, grief, healing, loss, poem, Poetry, relationship, Saturday Expressions, Session 9

Love Letters Poetry Thirsty Thursday

How Now, My Lord | Letter 7

Post author By K. Samways
Post date August 18, 2022
No Comments on How Now, My Lord | Letter 7

Dearest Othello,

How do I write this now? How now, my Lord, after all that’s become of us?

How do I tell you what’s become of me?

I’ve been sun-kissed and wave-licked
I’ve been rolling in the dirt
I’ve slapped a horse’s ass, cherry picked
and I’ve spit creek water to the earth

I’ve seen snakes in grass
and long thin worms, and sometimes chubby slugs
the forest yields such photographs
beetles, spiders, bugs

Moths and butterflies have pressed me
with silken, pollened wings
while no bee nor wasp has ever stung me
as the dog-day cicada sings

A cricket symphony has often put me ‘lone to sleep
under starry skies, dry eyes wake damp with dew
out here I do not care to weep –
a tear outside was never shed, except those I shed with you

If I never loved another, Desdemona be my name
I have never touched another, yet an Othello I have made
I have never laid another, but you laid me with the blame.

Oh, poor Othello! Confused with talk
fed into ear by Iago’s mouth, untamed and tainted
with mirthful, selfish motivation, to destroy love! Revenge!

Was my mistake the one she missed?
The one where I fought back?
For though I’m fair, when I get pissed
boundaries up and eyes go black

Not so passive, lacking grace
I begged and pleaded and tempted fate
with tearful eyes and ruddy face
now there’s nothing to investigate

I’ve not strayed, and still I wait
as Desdemona would have done
had Othello spared her life and run
her story, I do speculate, and mine

Would be as one.

So though leaves have stroked my arms
And brooks have soaked my pants,
No other man has ever stirred me
Woodsy tickles come from spiders, ants

Still, the forest gets me going,
More stagged than sumac sprigs
How then I touch myself knowing
I’ve never caved to pleasure twigs

Right now, I cannot know your mind
How now, my Lord, I’m feeling blind!
So, in ignorance I must declare:

I will never sacrifice my virtue
To die upon a kiss
Know, still, I’m saved for you.

Love, Desdemona

If that the earth could teem with woman’s tears, each drop she falls would prove a crocodile.

Tags creative writing, death, jealousy, loss, love, love letter, lust, othello, poem, Poetry, shakespeare, Thirsty Thursday, tragedy

Buddhism Holiday Cheer

12 Days of Christmas | Song 4

Post author By K. Samways
Post date December 17, 2021
No Comments on 12 Days of Christmas | Song 4

Happy Twelve Days of Christmas! A Christmas Countdown featuring my Christmas favourites (plus pictures of my foster kittens).

I feel like it’s time to be honest and admit that my real true favourite most enjoyed Christmas song is… Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.

I feel like this is a song even Scrooge can get behind. A reminder I love my grandmas, but I also love laughter, fun and not taking things so seriously.

This song is a a comedic sketch, humorous holiday storytelling. On a deeper level, perhaps it’s also a great reminder that we never know if today is our “last day” – after all, death is life’s only guarantee. With this somewhat Dharmic teaching, I’ll make my segue.

Bonus: 12 Days of Charity

Looking for a charitable organization to support this season?

Consider Samudra Buddhist Centre. I recommend signing up for beginner classes or click here to go to their donation collection platform. Through the practice of Buddhism, I have found an abundance of inner peace simply by learning and applying basic meditation techniques and contemplating virtuous objects (like love and compassion).

Studying over the last five years, I have cultivated faith through experimenting and observing. I am happy to share this wisdom with others and encourage them to sign up for general program classes to learn wonderful, practical and basic meditation techniques to enrich one’s life.

Here Grace and I are studying together: