Categories
Buddhism Philosophy Poetry

determination

I am only a witness,
        transparent eye
a non judgemental mirror —
          or at least a mirror who keeps
          her judgments to herself

I am the nursery rhyme before it’s written,
        the angel before the fall
        the dream before the nightmare
        the ring before the call

I hear the future coming,
          still feel the distant past,
  see outcomes from our actions
              that for years & years will last

I weep for sad beginnings
            I laugh at mad hellos
  see insanity all around us
        and suffering only grow

I am ready to escape this
        ready to depart
        ejecting all attachment
        burning all my art

I have not one creation
          of which I am proud
  except those that come from virtue,
              those soundless,
              those I’ve vowed

I sow these seeds in silence
          for my words have caused much pain
          all contaminated actions
               seemingly in vain
          (* focus on intention *)

I hear the whistle blow,
          a hundred miles from home
  smell the fields of mountain thyme
            growing round the purple heather
  and still cannot decide
                if to stay or go

                        until I walk the streets
                see the suffering
                hear the cries
                smell the stink
                feel the terror
                taste the drink

then it all comes rushing back,
          each and every pleasure,
                    that I’ve had it all before
      —     it’s time to think!
                   I cannot do this anymore!
I won’t!

So with reliance, offering, requesting,
            my life I do lay down
                  only for something better
            more meaningful, profound

      with diligent, stable practice
              (which, finally, I’ve found)
              and compassionate, loving heart
              I fall upon the Bodhisattva’s ground

I bow before the new moon,
          and rising with the sun
  try to take things lightly,
  because all is mind and none is one

Categories
Poetry Saturday Expressions

f*cked | Session 19

If I cannot have pleasure
free from all pain
while enjoying samsara’s treasure

I must be addicted to pleasure
and addicted to suffering
in absolute equal measure

Categories
Poetry

Halloween Haunt

I don’t feel right
I can’t be normal
an alien in another’s skin —
how uncomfortable at times
I see myself needing
I see myself performing
I watch the satisfaction of each urge
depressed (only) momentarily, popped
deflated pimple, red, temporary
embarrassing, addictive
craving will resurface, a monster
people argue its existence — Loch Ness —
but the lie lays bare before us
recognized or not

so, it is with robotic sensibilities
I feel myself refuse to yield
to another pointless pleasure
and instead feel pain!
which I know is not the way —
but how else will I recognize
when I am being led astray
if not by monitoring such deceits
especially harmful, discovering

my own mind is the evil
that haunts me