Tag: healing

Categories
Poetry

confusing conditions

built to be broken
 & cracked down to dust
born to be suffered
     offend and break trust
invented to abscond
 tried to be trashed
   told to fuck off
     & thrashed for a laugh
samsara’s play buckles
          pulls out all the stops
the audience participation
          wallops a good punch

nonsense and dream world
          collide innocent
how do awful things ripen?
can we prevent one torment?

it hurts so we harden
it pricks so we hack
               all beauty to pieces
        even though it doesn’t last
                                     on its own

what pride can be held
    in accomplishing the same
         as time does with no effort
              robbing us of each name
revenge becomes pointless
    as our hearts become stone
I press, we must realize our mind
‘cause I can’t take this pain
                   all apparent losses
    grief felt again and again

all relationships tarnish
      all chaos lets loose
I thought this time was different
      and so volunteered for the noose
but from this redundant perspective
      it’s so easy to see
I was built to be broken
    & caged to be freed

Categories
Buddhism Poetry

Part of it all: III

(continued from)

<3>

I sit apart
    yearning
        misunderstanding
            my separateness
                  does not exist

    and still
          it is effortful
                to fight such suffering
          deceitful maras
    mistaken minds

I am but a drop
          at my heart
                      at the heart of all hearts
          inseparable, pure
    with the Dharma cure

            to be a part of it all
                    happily

Categories
Poetry Saturday Expressions

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.

Categories
Poetry Saturday Expressions

The world tears open | Session 9

Today, the world is tearing open

Everyone I know is crying
women, men
this is what our anger becomes
when our fire runs out and
we realize what we’ve done

This is how we bare our souls
with honest feeling
in safety
why should we alone endure our gief?

In the fray, the pages rend –
this time not my hand to blame –
yet the rip reveals remembrance
that recollection cannot heal

Bearing loss, the heartache felt
heavy as a pack
carried uphill over many days
heavier now,
as if weight was added still

Sorrow, the melancholy blues
I haven’t felt you in a while
and here you are anew

We may wallow in anguish, woe —
briefly — as we fall into
the cracks
as night chases the sun away
we can wish for tomorrow’s gift:
a day that destroys our dismay

permanently. 

Categories
Poetry

Womb of Time

It seems silly to confess such a vision
now, after so much time has passed

But such an image must be released

Like milk gone sour in the fridge,
flushed chunky down the john

How I would have followed you endlessly
how I’m built to follow, as a soldier
chivalrous in bruised armor, undefeated

Though appearing a king, I act a knight —
two forward and one over, L for loser
let’s invent our own games instead

How in my dreams, I submit my strength
in trusted servitude, loyal to my last breath
I am the lion that lays with the lamb

I follow you through fields, under stars, three hours
from home, flashlight in hand, owl calls on a speaker
hung from the lower branches of the pine

The air, cold and damp, presses us together
in scientific embrace and present ecstasy
end of winter love, blooming with spring

I follow you into the tent each night,
our bodies pressing squeaky air out of the mattress,
our throats downing iced coconut water, before each other

Our fingers feed furred friends before midnight,
Touch each other until dawn, pop and squeeze
tickle, tease, and cook together each morn

I follow you across the province,
each step a wish for you to accomplish your dreams
in my fantasy you have aspirations, and you name each one

Before bed each night, you whisper fairy tales to my closed eyes
All the places we’ll live and all the beings we’ll help
the examples we’ll set – no one will kill a spider again!

I follow you to a reinvented world, our happiness laid
bare and bearing only arms of peace, love
the kindness of your hand on my face,
              the warmth of your embrace

I follow you from lake to lake –
I pack dinner for us to take and barbeque
watching the sunset over rough waves
                            washed smooth in the dusk

Though the water’s cold, and I know not its depths
my hand in yours, I dive, snorkeling for the first time,
submerged skin sensations new to my airy nature

I follow you down sandy coastlines,
metal detecting or searching for pretty stones
collecting materials, like magpies, for our nest

I follow you through ups and downs, hardships and
some celebrations do offer return on investment
I like you just the way you are, in spite of anxiety

I follow you until it’s dark, and you begin to fade away
and when this imagination ends, I know you do not stay

Because it was my vision, not yours

Categories
Poetry

Frankenstein

Was I truly a monster?

Having to beg for love crumbs
is ugly

I am not a villain anymore
I don’t steal scraps

And I don’t blame you

For reanimating my heart

When I lay as a corpse on the table

My virgin lips begging for it

Stitched to a rotting head

Jolted to life by your lightning touch

Addicted, attached to your light

Poisoned, angry when left in the dark

The literature you wrote warned others

Stay away from the beast
Science went wrong with this one

So alone I wait
for my doctor to return
with a cure

Not knowing
he got lost along the way

Following lamp light into the marsh
and voices into the mist:

Don’t go home. Play with us.

Is your happiness a monster?
Did you find your truth?

Categories
Poetry

Misplaced Grief

I thought my pain was due to his absence
yet the delusions arose in his presence

my uncontrolled desirous attachment
formed unfulfilled relationship wishes

I no longer sensed the man behind the mask
begging for a freedom he refused to imagine

loathe to face the grim consequences
of his actions, or their lack