All the conditions
all the instructions
all the sorrows
the pains
the long introductions
you should know suffering
and develop intention
You have all the conditions
all the instructions
all the pleasures
such joys
you should know these are temporary
called changing suffering
and seek the wisdom realizing
emptiness instead
I shall call it
changing suffering
forevermore
for that is what it is
Every twinkle little star
every snowflake near and far
sparkling against sky or ground
morning dewdrops all around
I once considered beautiful gifts
wondrous signs too commonly missed
But, no – I now see
(not for the first time)
fool’s gold
not easily offered back
a meaningless pocket weight,
(now I must buy a belt)
How can I contend with such suffering?
In temporary pleasures and joys,
effortlessly, we’re robbed
even if of mere time
inescapable imputation
immovable mountain
sickness, aging, death
I cannot evade you
so why am I running?
Why do I not surrender?
The terrifying jaws of death
protected only by an inner circle,
a very subtle layer
(Let’s unblock the chakras
before it’s too late)
(I hope it’s not too late)
You know, the story of the ring was this
emptiness, bliss
there all along,
delusion appearing great,
feels too strong
yet empty empty
all along
(Of what?)
(Empty of what?)
That’s the question,
the non-existent rub
(still yearning for the out)
So just existing in this tub
Trading suffering
Not for the first nor last time
does such (dis)satisfaction
(edit upon the moment, day)
depend upon my mind
and never these infernal conditions
manifest by mind
It’s my mind
changing suffering, such!
nature of samsara’s temporary kind
So will be relief
when clarity appears to replace
this muddled mess –
direct realization: emptiness
with pure intention
and, please, before death!
I started to lose interest
where it began, I cannot tell –
was it diseases of delusions?
or the medications as well?
Aversion to sugar
I dislike that sweet —
but a little too tart?
sours my treat
A dash of salt
is too salty still
when I want a
silly snack
Creamy vanilla
or buttered plain
are two with simple
lack
Yet mocha dark
or caramel glazed
are off my beaten
path
So what is it I fancy?
what is it I crave?
and what will satisfy me?
or quick become depraved?
For once a pleasure rises
a pleasure, she must fall
and he who sympathizes with
attachment
is he who loses all
For grasping at an object,
impermanent, illusion best
is ignorance, the birthplace
of delusions, all the rest
So what will satisfy me
external to my mind?
Nothing nothing no thing
for all that is
is named, is mind
In my heart of hearts
I know
I know
what happiness is
I feel it exists
I know where it is to be found
under the bones, beneath the ribcage,
sub atomic the heart, in the subtle
in the very subtle mind
I know where all is found, created
produced phenomena
mistaken, mistaken
still mistaken
so there’s the rub
the grasp for external things
produced from an internal space
perceived from a point
moving through time and space
but a point, a personality nonetheless
— non-existent so to speak
yet hard to see (until it’s not)
and it’s the rub that’s missed
the feeling, the touch,
the understood cause
of pleasure, pain
the smack, the beating
and don’t get me started on the aural
— tongue lashings
to teach you tough lessons
What the fuck, right?
do you ever forget that people are real?
do you treat them too much like the dream characters you know they are?
can you feel – or is there a shelf in the way?
will someone please un-install the shelf!?
I think it can be recycled.
donate it. Please, help me.
the ledge is the safest place to be
if it perpetuates such refuge practice
but I don’t want to be there anymore
where do I want to be?
have I done the work, made the effort
that must render the results
effects I’ve created mindfully (somehow)
and somehow I’ll do it again
((blessings))
but oh! how I could do without
the melodramatic feeling!
the melancholy that arises,
such ache!
as if I am on the verge of losing
My Attachment
balancing
the moment, a magic moment
while seeing the potential – certain!
decease, death of these magic moments
no phenomena exists in the same way
for a second moment
care to think about that?
the certainty of change
still surprises you; cry about it
mourn the wisdom you missed
but receive what’s given to you
now — and why not happily?
you’ve got this
after all, you’ve got the lines —
just practice them
as an actor, rehearse rehearse
perchance to entertain… to fail…
to fly
imagination is all you need
to reach the end of the path
transform the melodrama
enjoy each step as you walk it
What the fuck, right?
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
The Halfwit Writer