Tag: love

Categories
Good Fortune Poetry

Dare You

There is magic in the world
If you dare to see it
There is happiness in the world
If you dare to feel it
There is hope in the world
If you dare to force it
There is love in the world
If you dare to wish it
There is faith in your heart
If you dare to test it
There is compassion in your heart
If you dare to risk it
There wisdom in your heart
If you dare to mind it
There is joy in the world
If you dare to celebrate it

Merry Christmas 🎄

Categories
Poetry

Poisoned

To feel too deeply
and to be unable to feel
are my two greatest sufferings

and to grasp at the feelings
as inherently existent
my greatest ignorance, their source

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
Philosophy Poetry

Elevated Intentions (…still need wisdom)

sympathy is
       I see your suffering, and I relate
empathy is
       I see your suffering, and I wish to relate
compassion is
       I see your suffering and I wish you to be free from it
bodhichitta is
       I cannot bear to see your suffering, so I will become enlightened to free you from it

Most of what we speak & seek
is causes for – and sympathy;
but how much better would life be,
if we abandoned victim mentality?

Why is sorrow such a strange addiction,
so familiar to my mind?
I cannot be free from misery;
it’s all I’ve known and all I’ll find!
       — such an easy thing to cry
believing escape from suffering a lie
unknowing there’s a firm way out
for those with patient, faithful eyes,
for those who abandon deluded doubt

                           — What imagination is this!
what strength it takes to change one’s sight
no material quest could yield such result
for in samsara one cannot do right

                           — What can one do!
rely upon blessings & elevate intention
remain natural while wishing to help; think:
Oh! What would it really be like
       to be happy and kind spontaneously
to face all problems with joyful mind
with strength and courage to defeat all foes
while maintaining love and compassion, I’ll find
it easy for blessings to arise, received and bestowed
I’ll help all living beings with ease and with grace

I’ll abandon delusion, because fearless I face
 the appearances that rise and fall –
       hallucinations, like dreams –
understanding reality, from mind,
                                  is never as seems
because I’m grasping, anxious, clinging
my stories are hard to let go
I should instead rewrite myself the hero
great responsibility mine, undeniably so

How could I cope with this level of fame?
in anonymity, no one knowing my name
in correct paths I follow
                      but I must impute
I’m no longer a victim, no longer the brute
seeing myself the lowest of all,
through infinite timelines, I recall
the artist’s drive to wield the sword
       settling instead for
              ink seldom seen and music sometimes heard
       limited proud intention
to right the wrongs and mend men’s minds
still what more can I do but mimic
in appreciation of writers of Blake’s kind
              I render copied letter into copied word

Tyger, Tyger burning bright
surprised to find you here tonight
easy confidence, phat face
curly locks, so out of place
twinkle, twinkle, of thyne eye
what is your fearful symmetry?
absent, as one pupil enlarged
brightly burning in furnace forged
what is they breath? thy breast? thy might?
so like a woman in the night!
odd & absent-minded maid
back to cold burner, you do fade

he speaks to her with bleary eye
long-winded and past-wounded
he longs for sympathy, to cry
nearly, he is refusèd
she listens with a weary ear
she’s heard it all before
her heart is hardened, scarred by fear
his hurt she can ignore
what good is sympathy to folks
with pain and broken heart
it is compassion that fixes our flaws
so simple is our part

from compassion comes love
and it’s easy to flourish
exchange self with others
with a quick change of intention
to complete all actions with ease
we develop bodhichitta motivation
with familiarity come all habits
spontaneous, effortless
removing delusions from our mind
we soon derive meaning
from the very thing that was,
from our side,      meaningless

develop and meditate upon
correct intention

pray for wisdom

sympathy is
       I see your suffering, and I relate
empathy is
       I see your suffering, and I wish to relate
compassion is
       I see your suffering and I wish you to be free from it
bodhichitta is
       I cannot bear to see your suffering, so I will become enlightened to free you from it

Categories
Poetry

beginningless rebirths, abridged

you see me as a girl when
I have been your mother
you see me mother, after
I have been your child
you see me enemy after
I have been your friend
you see me a beginning after
I’ve been each and every end
only you don’t see the continuum
you don’t see what it’s for
you don’t see the “big picture”
you beg for common sense once more

you see me as a girl
you take me as a lover
you feel each pleasure new
and each pain rediscover
next you’ll meet me as your foe
and know my torture’s art
you’ll beg to be without me
while wishes ripen to never part
the cruelest joke of samsara
the wish-granter, genie, jewel
all worldly prayers do cometh true
with just timing making us the fool

you see me as a girl
radiant, free, and open
and you, overcome with envy,
how you wish to see me broken
by running toward temptation,
grasping at the self, and craving
we lose the possibility of salvation
with such constant misbehaving
how can we overcome our loathing
and refrain from touching skin?
for in heated hate-filled love embrace
I’ll remember you were once my twin

you see me as a girl
when I have been your mother
I have been your sister, father, uncle
yes, I have been your brother
I have been a loyal lab
and I a miser, cheat, and thief
I’ve rested in eternal peace
only to wake with new belief
seeing inner demons, outer
giving unending evil toments
with such cyclic suffering for all,
how can bodhichitta remain dormant?

you see me as a girl
you take me as a lover
you feel each raw sensation new
and rare laughter rediscover
how ’bout we call it quits
and cease identifying this mind
’cause ordinary doesn’t cut it
when extraordinary’s been defined
I don’t know about your view, but
mine says this pleasure garden’s rotting
my time here is running out
and my tell-tale heart is clotting

so don’t see me as a girl
goddamn it! – don’t take me as a lover
because incest is against the law
and I have been your mother
just as sure, you have been mine
some aeons or some years ago
for we’ve done all there is to do
in all the worlds there are to know
so let’s grow bored and say no more
and escape with little wits we’ve left
we’ve done it all … oh countless times before!
now let us create cause for happiness!

Categories
Poetry

Echoes

In each life
   we walk away
       from one another
       thinking this life will be different
   we tried it again
and now
   we walk away
       from one another
       a different name
       a different place
       a different time

if the karma remains
                       unpurified

       again we’ll try
       again we’ll try

Categories
Poetry

Spring Renewal, an endless cycle

I can feel time slowly slipping through my fingers
frictionless to hold a second for a second moment
before falling through the ether into near nothingness
imprinted on continuum
a seed carried life to life
until conditions are right
to ripen the fruit on an unsuspecting self
   — I am sorry

   But how can it be helped?
I cannot squeeze this self into another
instead I chip away at delusions
from the inside out
destroying deluded doubt
and always at play
never a day spent away from refuge
and still I fight a deluge
of intense suffering
always threatening
to drown a silly me
how can it be
at war with three
extract My poisons, please!

Oh doctor of holy medicine,
I am a sick being
full of rotten feeling
still misunderstanding compassion
still giving with miserly ration
still confused at apparent separation
what can I do
I sit and contemplate emptiness
I feel like less and less
I can impress others
I merely offend
with no ability to comprehend
how meaningless it all is
without a pure intention
to worry about such brief condition
when I could be creating
a beautiful future feeling
and care for other instead
please, mend my broken head

Please, mend my broken heart
so that I may finally start
to love, to give happiness
and understand what comes does part
although appearing, no longer relating
to mistaken imputation
and while all expectations break
and friends do talk and fuck and fake
until the joy becomes real
and pain is permanently healed
may my pure virtue be revealed
through blessings be shared
and eventually may I care
only for other, selflessly
give me such pure appearance
so with happiness, I’ll dance
and, just perhaps,
give pure love chance after chance

Categories
Poetry

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
Poetry

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      â€“ 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
Poetry

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