Tag: past lives

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
Love Letters Poetry Thirsty Thursday

Past Life Vision | Letter 11

Dear Past Life Connection,

Don’t get stuck in your head
don’t think
            I’d be better off instead…
don’t let the demons get to you
don’t think it’s better if it’s new

I know it doesn’t seem so right
when things get hard & a little tight
but I think good’s worth a little fight
after this dark comes a lot of light
                           (I promise)

All that I could wish for you
is a cease of suffering, aches, and flu
this love, the wish for happiness so true
and the desire for such joy to remain
with fearlessness, absent any pain
and a healthy, happy, stable mind
a loving heart and neighbours kind

Don’t despair, my humble friend
for we’re at beginning, not the end
do not worry, do not hasten
it’s only our drive, our pulses racing

Let’s enjoy the lust, the draw, the pull
let’s unfasten our will, glass half full
of wisdom, we wish, we want to escape
this prison, ordinary existence, red tape

Somewhere between sex and fear
this passion lies
yet we’re too courageous
so we thrive
against all odds, mistakenly alone
staring reluctantly at our phones
aghast, embarrassed
a hint of cowardice
               — shit

Don’t get stuck in your head
we’re better off instead
to enjoy this dance of life
embracing opportunity with strife

I know it doesn’t seem so right
that it should be left to you
but in the interest of tradition
I encourage thou come through

Don’t despair, my falling friend
it’s just the beginning, follow the thread
roll the dice, don’t flip the car
please remember who you really are

It’s worth it
                 (I promise)

Love,
a distant past lover

Categories
Poetry Video

Coming Back Together

Once upon a time
I had another life
I had another job
I was to be a wife
and when the whole damn world
thought to come crashing down
I put on my big girl pants
and turned up my music loud
so this other life dissolved
and that job did disappear
the man was just a con
so I faced the loneliness I feared
what a gift that was
because it led me to this place
where the feeling is familiar
though I’ve met a different face
I thought I’d lost the rhythm
I thought I’d lost the rhyme
but I’ve found the dance again
will you help me keep the time?
I just can’t fight this feeling
I just don’t have the will
you stirred the past in me
and ignited the music’s thrill
and though the past’s behind
and the future’s quite unclear
one thing is for certain
I’m letting go of this damn fear

I recorded the poem Come Together (2021) – check it out on Youtube now, or revisit the original post to read along.

Categories
Dreams Poetry

On Being a Writer (this time)

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
Good Fortune Poetry

Ordinary Existence

I hate this lifetime
                 she says

With all the instructions
         and all the conditions?
Why?
        How could you hate such fortune?

Because all the people
            I have ever known,
                            ever loved
                in all my lives
           have forgotten me

Not only
          do they not remember
our love, shared,     our words
                        our bonds …
they are all sick, wounded, dying
this vision becomes a nightmare
   threatens lives I care about
      makes me hate my own
and then I see
        I am the maker and destroyer
but never more a life-enjoyer
       — at least not this life anyway
this one with pain that’s here to stay
   because that is samsara’s way
      first it gives and then it takes
breath, floods, fires, earthquakes,
      fortune, time, fame, mistakes, and
breath

It all comes rushing in and then
                                    it goes

Absent is the gentle flow,
                        of another life
                  one in which I failed
          one where I succumbed to strife
          for otherwise this appearance
                        wouldn’t be
                             (couldn’t be)

So which delusion can I blame
   for producing this life, this name
I happily give up for happiness
   a wisdom realizing emptiness
                  I’m tired of grief’s game
        set me free!

While with wisdom, I reflect,
   I find… I hate this lifetime
                                all the same
           but despite its constant pain
             not a moment spent in vain

I will escape

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.

Categories
Poetry

Part of it all: II

(continued from)

<2>

I sit still
      what need for I of movement,
      when it is all around?

water flows, ripples, pools
          invisible evaporation
          before my lazy eyes

I cannot see, so I do not know
            although, given wisdom,
              my knowledge grows

      — is it in my heart?

               —  this long lost art?

                     of reading
            nature ,    no partless part

so ignorant throughout my lives,
    destined & pulled
          to revisit the same
                                suffering

so close     to feeling it end,
    almost!      against delusions defend
  try again!     after each failure
                & I haven’t truly lost
        one more try until I win
                        at my life’s cost

                   to be a part of it all

Categories
Poetry

A sad song

I am hurting
   deeply wounded
to my core
only this time –
it’s not personal
it’s nothing I’ve done or haven’t done
       at least not recently

it’s not who I am, rather
it’s who I’ve been

it’s not what I didn’t do
it’s what I’ve done countless times over

self-cherished, ignorant
      born into imprints, big boots to fill
innocently believing in myself

not as an enlightened being
     but merely inherently existent
                    (betraying myself)

harmfully,     forever non truth
making up our non reality
                       collectively

   O, to escape a cage that has no bars!
   Where’s one run? Where’s one go?

we dance and shake and make do
     and then – handed instructions,
mapped, a perfect escape route
     tested, tried, and true
     a happy result, always

     I would dare – but alone?
why will no one come with me?
         will no one come with me?

Categories
Poetry

clearwing

not good enough?
       you little moth
               drawn to my flame
fearing I’ll burn your wings

but I am not fire (your past)
        I am air (your future)
               a Tara,
                           wind element

you choose disbelief
       to break hearts, cause tears
& still, you deserve such clarity of mind,
       divine,

you little moth

you’re enough

Categories
Poetry

Edge of Tomorrow

I know you

Do you know me?

I cannot help but note the tragedy

of new lives lived with no memory

of old lives discarded though they’re

the very foundation of the new!

— no memory

you have of me

or I’d have seen

some bloody action by now —

or maybe you’re tied down —

she’s got you on the tracks

while I’m off the beaten path

and I’m calling out loud

— but you can’t hear me

you don’t know me

you can’t see me

you’ve forgotten —

I had too

but now I’ve seen —

no. I felt the tug,

a heart string plucked

and yearned anew

for only you

as if I’d done this many times before

a feeling I could not ignore

familiar and odd — uncanny

when you looked at me

with no knowledge of

the touches I gave long ago

time erases and time has passed

ages since we danced in the afterglow

— now no memory,

though time did slow

when you looked at me

and my heart beat so rhymically

as if we’d done this all before

— and yet, no more

as you walked away

I longed to say

what I’m looking for —

Enlightenment, and is it at your door?

I wish to be rich and it’s such

delusions that keep me poor

tempt me tease me all you want

— or do not —

I still remember you

do let me know if I can stir

a memory —

do you know me?