Categories
Buddhism Poetry

Renunciation

My first attempt at producing a sestina.

My normal methodology for creation is spontaneous overflow of emotion (the excess is disgusting) or free verse, which feels channeled from other sources: spontaneously remembered, rendered incorrectly, perverted, and copied from other great artists, no doubt.

It also seemed more appropriate to select an engaging and more intentional subject matter since the poem is so contrived (in this case); I do not usually set out to write a poem. A poem will find me when it wants writing. However, I do enjoy the dance-like and musical qualities of rhythm & repetition. How many of Buddha’s 84,000 teachings did I manage to include here in this silly display of some of the stages of the path?

Enjoy!


Renunciation, a sestina

I have carefully taken out each hook
and the wounds bled for many a long day
and my clothes remained obviously stained
an unpleasurable display, gifts of samsara
and what should bloom in place of pain?
But another chain! We have no freedom!

Ah! But one must define this freedom
or how will we recognize release from the hook?
Do we know what it’s like to not feel pain?
How should we strive to create a happier day?
How miserable the mind that produces samsara!
addicted to deceptive conceptions, stained

With contaminated eyes, our vision stained
creates evil hallucinations, no freedom
and so we find it hard to escape samsara
our familiarity keeps us bound, as a hook
forcing our steady practice day after day
we should understand this to escape this pain

How difficult to bear witness to all beings’ pain
and accept responsibility for this mind that’s stained
How can I stand to fight me even one more day?
How can I believe the existence of joyful freedom?
How can I have the strength to tear out this hook?
Perhaps a bit longer, I will bear the agony of samsara…

This is addictive quality of samsara
hellish to hold us addicts of our pain
a snare that strangles, we must un-hook
what virtue could purify these conceptions stained?
we need a vast collection of merit for freedom
and increased faith in our spiritual guide day after day

Only he guides us out, faithful step, day-by-day
we must grasp this rare chance to leave the prison of samsara
we are now protected on our journey to freedom
he has shown us how to transform our pain
into pure motivation for ordinary beings, equally stained
cherishing others, I continue to remove each hook

With pure effort each day, we’ll completely purify our pain
detroying samsara and our conceptions, stained
attaining freedom forever from attachment’s unbearable hook

Categories
Buddhism Good Fortune Poetry

An Offering

In the New Kadampa Tradition, we perform a practice called Offering to the Spiritual Guide on the 10th and 25th day of each month. Typically practitioners meet to recite chanted prayers and bring food and flower offerings to our Spiritual Guide. This verse is my offering.

~~~

Sometimes I feel
          I was built to handle anything
                          limitless potential
                                   powerful, strong

Other times, too sensitive
          to get along
                          difficult to get by
                          or even make do
          I don’t want for much
                    and yet there’s never enough
          and the disappointment’s strong

Am I made up of feeling,
                                     mistaken discrimination?

Why can I never make contact
                   when I try & touch
                              another,     soft   skin
                                                   — lost
                     gone          by the time I’m there

                                 it’s only    air

                    and though it’s space I crave,
                                          it’s a high cost

tears, sorrow
                         yet goodbye to rage
             I’ve freed myself from anger’s cage
                         yet sadness remains here
                                          all the same
                         delusions wrong,
                                                  familiar, strong
             I beg them leave
                                please do not stay!

I see a face
             familiar shape,
                     I know that walk
             I’ve seen that gait
                     I recognize that stride
             he takes his time
                     if he has rhythm,
                                  I have his rhyme
             and false reason
                              keeps us apart —
             though why should we meet
             when every greeting
                          ends the same way
             goodbye, depart until
                           some other day

So though I want to beg & cry
      & sit & pretend I don’t know why
             this pain, though here, won’t stay
           it’s mere causes created
                            now ripened seeds
                   appearing here as suffering
          yearning great as I’ve felt before
                    wishing there was something more
                    while this vision reveals all
          it’s just my mind
                         it’s not out there,
                                       though it’s appearing
                                                       everywhere

I can write it down
                     I can share some words
             & still the truth remains unheard
         for causes we don’t create
                   to sit still    ,     think    ,    concentrate
          on something more virtuous than hate
                    why can’t we learn to meditate
                                       on happiness & love?
                     How is that too hard    (as I’ve heard
                                                                 whiners complain)
                                          & my heart breaks

So sensitive, so still
            so patiently I work,     I wait
       as effortful seeds
                     I do create
                        and generously dedicate
                     for others’ joy
                                          & may hearts heal   
                                   anvil  strong
                                               unbreakable & vajra-like
                                                            until
                                                    Enlightenment.