Categories
Poetry

with tact

needle my heart
thread me with hurt
keep me just alive

feel the cold anger
turn to hot sorrow
as I fight to survive

pull back bitten nails
pin me with pain
and pleasure derive

it’s torturer’s art
to keep us apart
and this love deprive

Categories
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

Categories
Firescape Fridays Poetry questions

For Later | FF 20

I have placed upon the shelf
                                   the feeling

                         for later

it’s insecure
                     incorrectly placed
       never found the stud

I don’t know why such a weightless gift
             should appear so heavy

it will likely fall
           not the for the first time glass
           has shattered
                     infinite and
                        finite sharp crystal gems

           allowed to cut again
                  weapons cast upon the floor

because I was afraid,
                I guess

why else

was such a lovely
                              feeling
        shelfed?

Categories
Buddhism Dreams Poetry

Temporary Illusion-like Appearance

          Open your mind, heart
          to feel what you feel, name it

your Spiritual Guide whispers to you
as a wave that laps the sandy shore, gently
receding, absent whitecaps

          Name what you feel
          be not afraid
          for what rises will fall
          and what fear have we
          of what is not permanent,
          never mind what we cannot name?
          What we cannot name does not exist,
          so what is it?

and you go within,
as instructed for
within is all there is
when there is
no out there out there

and you feel

disappointment
red, raw, and sinewy
funnily, sadly, and sorely
familiar, rubbed, worn and
blistered, in risk of rot
if you let it fester like
resentment –
                    you can’t
I was here first          your way
in or out of this one

it’s not yours, except
you lay claim to its
disappointment
as though it could have been
if it could have it would have
and it didn’t so it won’t

and you think

acceptance
the sweetest fruit,
sometimes the heaviest to bear
laid at your feet as you risk despair
only having to pick it up, lift it
with legs of wisdom,
but no –
                    I chose
to disappoint       myself

yet, hope

hope is here too
blossoming as a new bud
for disappointment
could not create sorrow
where love and compassion
had already taken root –
my mind protected by a gate of
incredible goodness, the only pleasure
I’ll happily increase in samsara’s garden
where running never yields escape
for the iron fence is the nature
of the mind – presently misunderstood

so hope,

hope that yields to faith
is what transforms my dream
because I must believe that
change is possible, is real
to make progress, effort, heal
I trust my Spiritual Guide’s instructions
for I put them to the test
and when hope transformed to purest
Faith, I see they are the best
and still my foolish mind cannot
afford to rest

because I was the mind of
unnecessary disappointment today
the utmost waste of breath
when each and every thing that’s ripened
has been for my swift path’s benefit
          so this too I will transform
and birth love so great it shall
become the norm, even if time be brief
we have so little to work with,
yet there’s so much we can achieve
if we hold correct belief

so, still I see the disappointment
my mind claims as mine – though truly
I could do without, here, add to that list
my deluded doubt
                    I know my happiness doesn’t lie here,
and still I mourn a temporary loss –
                    so instead, I donate
these mistaken minds to the cause,
the cause of the effect, the only one
I wish to possess, the greatest mind
of precious Enlightenment

(for others’ benefit, may I forever cease
these horrible, painful minds of suffering)