Tag: familiarity

Categories
Dreams Poetry

On Being a Writer (this time)

I have entered the dream world
          it is dark
                  madness ensues
      I’ve come unglued
monsters lurk and
      a peculiar quirk
has taken hold of me
      reality      not what it seems

I have entered the dream state
           it passes over my waking eyes
a film, betraying a wild guise
      a darkness taking over me
absent     absent is the light
      in a nightmare world
full of haunting fright
         how could it feel so right!

I have entered the dream
  I see its walls surrounding me
seemingly limitless,
      yet I cannot run further
than my limitations
      in a meat puppet state
I cannot wait any longer
      to start becoming stronger
I must lucid make
            my dull dreaming mind
I cannot afford to become unkind
                             — not now! —
and forget …

I must remember the dream
             has taken hold of me
it’s pulled me in and under
and threatens to rip asunder
                        all that I’ve worked for
all that my continuum has worked for
                  to lose all I have and more
           futures of past work
            I cannot be the jerk
that throws it all away
and yet,
            I cannot be the one to stay

I must wake up!

Still, I have been pulled under
         I have metamorphosed as a cicada
to scratch my way to the surface,
      crawling above ground
            to birth such sound
and to shed such skin and skeleton
     like the selfless king
               abandons his crown!
while in samsara’s sea they drown
                                          no more

I must wake up!

In the dream world
     imagination is the creator
of all sights and sounds
   and smells and feels and fears
      and tastes and don’t forget
         the touches you don’t get
      — your mind creates those too
in the dream world
     the artist thrives or dies
depending on will and disposition
          — or is it now our despotism?
for it is time I must remind        
                                                   (who?)
      it’s  pure       imagination
         —    creepy factories aside    —

I have entered the dream world
     and so I say goodbye
to the ordinary people I once knew
   to the human race in which I grew
      to the good friends, in numbers few,
oh how when I write, I will miss you!
      but only a solo journey ensues
(the synonym is madness)
      for it’s certainly not entirely lonely
with all those characters arguing in there

          CAN YOU SHUT THE HELL UP
                   FOR JUST A SECOND
           SO I CAN PRETEND
                   TO BE NORMAL?

  Nope.

         Not fair.

This familiarity is based on
     past impressions
          with no guarantee of
     future impressions
           (& little return on investment)

            you think I’d shift gears

Alas! like so many lifetimes
       before me
                      I write
   I enter the dream state
                      I strive
   I will realize my mind
                      this time,
   with a qualified Spiritual Guide.

Categories
Buddhism Poetry

Such Silly Suffering

Why do I feel so sad 
to release my suffering?

I know its source! And still!
I cling like stickseed 

burred burdens born
impossible to remove

without wisdom realizing
the true nature of all things

impermanent
not existing inherently

so what does that mean
when I cling so

to this suffering
inborn familiarity

infinite lifetimes old
makes 21 day habits

impossibly young
and still, we must

abide by these present
physical laws in order

to attain the higher 
understandings and escape

of ultimate Enlightenment
for the benefit of

all living beings
the only way to make

any meaning of my
present suffering

Categories
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

Categories
Poetry

Pandora’s Box

I’ve come across you
twice before

and each time

I opened you!

Alas, even
the second time
I knew!

To tell you
the truth…

I would do it again.

It is said,
we run straight
to the causes
of our suffering

My experience
could be proof

Though I may act
quite aloof
(or at times a goof)

I am burning with 
desire inside
egotistical pride

seven sins wrapped
up tight

in the unforgetting world
it is difficult
to let go of attachment

So faced with the choice 
once more – to open
or leave closed
hell’s wicked door

I swing it wide
and hop the hearth
to the other side

to tell you the truth…
I’m just exhausting
negative karma

bringing about 
the end of these
tiresome cycles

how ’bout you help? 

Tell me the truth…
would you open the box?

Categories
Philosophy Poetry

Karma v. Equanimity

How can one help but try and remember
Even ask curiously
Who is this and how do I know them from a past life
As I indirectly feed them or compete for
attention or laughter or share an earnest
word on institutional experience
I cannot help but question
How do I know you?
Did we eat at the same table?
Drink from the same cup?
Have I sensually stroked your arm?
Did you birth me from your womb?
Push me on the swing?
So many lives lived unremembered
Remarkable though they seemed
At the time

Gone. Gone from my grasp.
Yet feelings of familiarty arise
At each and every word exchanged
The touches given, stopped
So weird that you could linger
Like an unfounded memory
Yet I know within my heart
That appearance reflects karma
Though unfolded memory remains
Tucked away for enlightened eyes only
A privilege reserved for tenth dimension beings
And here we are struggling in 3D appearance
I don’t hear you in my dreams
No we weren’t that close so recently
But previous lives are infinite
Circular I like to believe
So we’ve had…how many?

Now you stand before me
Like you’ve never known me
But you bear the name I’ve heard before
Under steepled roof, through Christian door
I strive for patience, not to deplore
A despicable name I don’t care for
You aren’t the same though it would appear that way
And de ja vu is pretty peculiar
So the dream I know is a dream getting weirder
As if it’s possible it could be stranger
But that is one thing you’re definitely not
As you avoid my gaze it’s clear
You’ll never shoot your shot and
I think about the shit lot it sometimes
seems I got – gave myself? – a dream with
Suspicious people in my midst
Horrid roommates taking the piss
Out of my very livelihood – what a ride
My karma has given me, so I turn
To the cause, asking
“What has given rise to thee?
What led this John Doe here to me?
What action have a I done or refused
That left this jackoff rather bruised?”

Better perhaps to question
How do I right the wrongs
That led to these damned impressions?
How do I purify the karma in the way
Of the mind that holds steadfastly
Virtuous equanimity, a warm feeling
And friendly attitude to each living being?
That is peace and happiness to me.

Categories
Poetry

Dog Man Grew Up With Cats

The dog boy grew up with cats
they told him he was a cat
spoke to him like a cat
groomed him as a cat
and even though he still became
Dog Man
this pack creature
is unceasingly drawn to felines
their foreplay familiar 
dogs something foreign and rarely
brought round for fun

Dog Man is sensitive and he longs
for a good belly rub
but kitties have dirty claws 
and would rather receive
their own scratch behind the ears
the pissing in a box thing?
not so clean – an illusion
but one puss in the box
is worth two dogs in the woods
so is spoken
so Dog Man clings
like a kitten to the curtains

Dog Man clings
and he won’t run with wolves
he barks with fear 
and he can’t let go

Categories
Poetry

Responsibility 2

One day we will recall
how we contributed to our own enslavement

Or we can forget
like we always have
And lay the blame
on someone else