What did I get myself into? 10.19.21
Categories
Question 8
Tag: life
Categories
I Win the Game
You lose by just remembering
You can’t forget your name
And even though you’ll try again
It’s really such a shame
You haven’t hope in high water
If you avoid this middle way
For never do I falter there
I win each time I play
It’s method tried and true
My guide has mapped easy escape
Yet, like so many, you’ll just ignore it
For sensual pleasures you’ll forsake
A win, a title, greatness
While striving for false fame
You’ll burn out, die, forgotten
While I beat you just the same
I win this round
I’ve won each match
All your little moves I catch
And it’s just no fun
To play in vain
For it’s far easier
To achieve my aim
Than for you to lose your stray
It’s like you don’t know how to play
And so I strive to let dogs stay
Where they sleep
I don’t say a peep
Never to blame
Rather my own mind tame
Because it’s not your fault you lose
I repeat, it’s just been a tasteless shame
And a waste of pure potential
If I’m the only one who beats the game
Categories
Question 7
Where to now? 10.17.21
Categories
magic of mind
believe in magic
believe in love
believe that life is a gift above
all else believe that happiness is real
not to be attained, but
merely discovered
pull back the cover, the visage of misery
for underneath, already there
is joy, and peace, and fearlessness
magical and pure
suffering’s cure
such allure
& haute couture
we make a dress of bliss
a lightweight garb
heavenly feeling, free of attachment
free of hatred
free of ignorance
created with equanimity and compassion
rainbow fabric of delight
not temporary, but everlasting
not truly existent,
but purified, transformed and increased!
what sorcery is this!
not wizardry of external means
but a realization of mind
my mind, your mind
pouring water into water
mixed inseparable
may I be free from delusions
may I fortify my magic
may I never wreak havoc
(more than I already have)
may I only give Dharma,
material help, fearlessness and love
may I be a treasure from above
ultimately, at last I find
a magician’s alchemy
is mind over matter
for all matter is mind
Categories
The White Rose
note: poem conceptualized & written in 2020
Petals fall from
the white rose
encased but ignored
left on loop
but no one is there
to watch the rewind
meaning it’s hollow
not empty
still, like
rats’ feet over broken glass
no more to start or
stop a revolution or war.
Petals fall from
the white roses
marking graves of fallen
soldiers who tell their
story of glory after death
words spill from a curator’s lips
or a historian’s pen tip
tales of heroism
what brutality
fighting for peace, wisdom, clarity
against another mind to somehow
find it within one’s own.
War has been on my mind
as it so often is when
I find myself waiting in fatal quiet
reality augmented by the furtive hive mind
observing and denying
battles now fought
in sedated silence
behind television screens
behind cell phone screens
the ones woven through
our own digits
stiffened and stuck to
lite brite pointillism.
White roses bloom
in my smoke-filled room
red petals litter the floor
grey petals fall from the ceiling
ashes in graves and washed on shore
and what does it matter now
hope is a word said
nevermore
hope is a word bathed in doubt
so trade for belief and see
wish for a deep faith to be
the peace already in you
the love already in me
I heard an opinion
like the white rose, inoffensive
neither right nor wrong
simply an idea
made tangible by
a horrific co-creation
of present reality
present time an
indian-given gift
an offensive slur
cancelled at the last
moment – free speech no more.
Forgetting that to offend
is a mind-made act
a self-made attack
complete control given
to the red queen
whose only goal
is to hang the noose
about your neck
and wring the pennies
from your purse
yet it’s just the dream
that is your curse.
Now prick your finger
on the white rose’s thorn
made empty in parts
by how you define
your relations with
the world you find
outside your front door
for all is your mind
and our history written
from one point of view
always makes ignorant
all but a few
Categories
she didn’t wake up
she was looking for love
in all the wrong places
lighting a cigarette
outside the empty bar
buys her own drinks
what’s she waiting for?
Enlightenment?
she trots off into the night,
dragging her smoke-ring-halo
absent lamp light, fog rimmed
starlit trails
observed by her full moon gaze –
but does she exist without witness?
she was looking for love
eyes wide shut
snaked-eyed-luck
coffee breath and memories
of last year’s shitty fuck
did I cum?
skating down an icy street
pleasantly, legally high
wishing to die
she escapes on by
narrowly avoiding being struck
ignores the honks
oversized jacket, wonky look
she reaches inside for her last dart
it falls from shakey fingers, on ice, wet, breaking
and if that isn’t the straw
as she falls to her knees
and pleads with the dream,
— her own mind of course —
please release me
wake up
wake up
the tedium of days
with their fits and starts
a haunting melody
lacking rhythm
lacking rhyme
a humdrum routine
safe, content, but lacking life
Where is the life?!
excuse me, for every so often
I must exclaim
there’s something pent up —
they call it rage?
desperate yearning?
I can’t explain!
but it has to come out!
how much can I take?
(thankfully art is a good outlet)
now my prayer be heard by all
I just want to meet a happy person!
doesn’t have to be particularly
handsome or tall
(not that that’s not nice)
never mind lover! maybe friend?
it’s a very very mad world
and the time for being particular is near
end
but we’re not there yet!
how about a little happiness?
I’m not some joker
‘put-a-smile-on’-quack
just a halfwit out of whack
who to some could be a little woker
(not gonna happen
you’ll never guess why)
so with all that exclaimed and said
I must admit what I want instead
is to keep my queen-sized empty bed
and lose the roommate I’m lucky to stand
but would much rather be alone each night
I am never so lonely – I’m always alright but
mixing the mind
with the depressed masses
has brought invisible clouds
to winter’s false sunny days
lacking warmth
lacking love
it’s that time of year
hawks swoop and call up above
while this nest remains cluttered
with dog fur of all things, poison
what can I do but wait and pray?
what can I do but appreciate
these lucky opportunities for easy practice
things were once difficult
and could be hard again
so upon which minds will you depend?
(I hope the happy ones!!)
if the days grow long and tedious
simply rejoice and practice
there’s never need for sorrow, tears
when refuge in Dharma abounds
once more, rejoice!
let the ring go
those who know will know
let go
let joy arise
I am not
a shadow of the past
a constant reminder,
the feeling, sound, the smell,
only a bit kinder
still capable of perfect hell
how could it be
an appearance keen
hair a mess and eyes uncanny
feels like something that should have been
left in yesterday
so why should it appear
it couldn’t then stay
yet the similarity’s now here
I cannot be a shadow
I am solid, tangible
taste me
don’t waste me
fated to meet often
fated to part again
please me
don’t tease me
fated to laugh together
fated to get better
keep me
don’t creep me
fated to fear each other
fated to love some other?
I cannot be a shadow
I produce sound, reflect light
I am more than imagination
and yet,
no more than mind
still too kind
fuck that noise!
you have no idea
until the pedestal falls
and it always gets knocked over
amidst the crimson & clover
tracking texts, relentless calls
you have no idea
distrust that poise
I mean, no one’s that kind
I cannot be a shadow
except of a doubt
to ponder and wonder
what’s she about
of course, lacking solid evidence
the conclusion is drawn
at least a vestige
at times a reflection pool, drink
but rarely so calm, that image manifests least
marshmallow fluff, and not serious stuff
ephemeral, that’s for sure
immaterial and yet a painted city girl
because it’s a capitalist material world
she is a shade, phantomed, reduced
for that is what our minds will do:
concoct and reduce
and so
I am
though mostly
I am not
while this grasping persists
truth resists
and my reality is rot
mind-made, illusion-caught
please stop!
and see
the light in me
though with delusions fraught
and sad!
how sorrowful and absent glad!
the shocks are shot
stability knocked out
as if by a naga-induced wave
such a close shave!
moments of despair
threatening to take a life away
only through blessings can one remain
believe it or not
please stop!
and try to see
this element of humanity
made of five elements, impure
air, water, space, earth and fire
try me
don’t buy me
fated to come home
yet still fated to roam
kiss me
don’t miss me
fated to touch hearts
fated to loathe parts
adore me
don’t ignore me
fated to be shaken
please let us awaken
I am not a shadow of the past
perhaps I am an apparition of the future
if I were anything at all
but what am I?
moment by moment
who am I?
if I am anyone at all
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
Persistent Montage
If my life were a movie
I’d be in a montage scene right now
They really gloss over the stamina it takes
To be a long distance runner
When you’re only familiar
With sprinting
— There’s no finish line?
The Halfwit Writer 