having over-assumed wisdom
having been used for others’ own ends
I am puddled
a fractal coastline
after catastrophe
…
where should I find fault?
Categories
Unilluminated
Tag: Poetry
Categories
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
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?
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
Warped Regression
I am wretched
spastic in time
visions zoom and swoop
I am not alleviated of guilt
I am a burden of my own burdening
Knocked to the hard ground
concrete bloodied
pieces of knuckles, jaws
scattered about
detritus of a coming war
spastic in time
visions sink, exhaled
a finale, last breath
I am not alleviated of guilt
I will not profess my own burdening
Seamless lips, faulted
refusing to admit witness
slammed with responsibility
reaping, weeping, false confession
but a word, treason, is not spoken
and the clouds do not lift
visions sink, heavy, inhaled
as poison, saddled, trained
a whistle blows, heard for miles
you know it’s gone —
a train of burden
You ought to have seen this coming
hisses a Voice outta dark
whispers like old wheels
grinding to a halt on a rusted track
(obligation bearing back)
And if I did?
words evaporated, arisen from
a vibrating box,
moved by mind
And remain ignorantly attached?
But why!
— surprise in the Voice
silence
Addiction to the merry-go-round
of burden,
the colours, the depths of pain
the highs of lows
the energy, vibrating
words, vibrating
endowed with mind-meaning
and mind-made-up
The Voice can see what
lack of service lacks
and stops. shocked —
disappears, abandoning
Please! I laugh
Please! I laugh
and laugh
Untouched
and why
such disgust at
contagious negativity
gangrene and gross
debilitating degeneration
carnivorous and swift
progression is easy
unneeded consent
submit submit
and why
untouched except
with separate wash
still never away
she wept
and why
Know me,
choose to know me
and know that you are not alone
but I will not make you
less lonely
knowledge will not make you
less lonely
that always you will want
only to be
alone
Know me
see my sorrow
unpromised to a single cause
observe that
anchor-attached
I will drown
you will watch
as you are drowning
we are overwhelmed
alone
Know me
then choose to leave me
low and wet
high and dry
ecologically drained
and emotionally filled
venomous
— or is it toxic? —
she is both,
alone
Know me
do not.
do not learn.
a box better left lidded
monogrammed P
a sell-sword’s secret sealed
unabandoned, undone
better to un-know
better to be
alone
Know me.
Choose to know me.
Know that you are not alone,
but it does not matter
when self-cherishing strangles
the virtue that prompts
the mind that yearns
will cut off
compassion, love
and choose the self.
Alone.
All the conditions
all the instructions
all the sorrows
the pains
the long introductions
you should know suffering
and develop intention
You have all the conditions
all the instructions
all the pleasures
such joys
you should know these are temporary
called changing suffering
and seek the wisdom realizing
emptiness instead
Categories
Feels good, man (but for how long)
I shall call it
changing suffering
forevermore
for that is what it is
Every twinkle little star
every snowflake near and far
sparkling against sky or ground
morning dewdrops all around
I once considered beautiful gifts
wondrous signs too commonly missed
But, no – I now see
(not for the first time)
fool’s gold
not easily offered back
a meaningless pocket weight,
(now I must buy a belt)
How can I contend with such suffering?
In temporary pleasures and joys,
effortlessly, we’re robbed
even if of mere time
inescapable imputation
immovable mountain
sickness, aging, death
I cannot evade you
so why am I running?
Why do I not surrender?
The terrifying jaws of death
protected only by an inner circle,
a very subtle layer
(Let’s unblock the chakras
before it’s too late)
(I hope it’s not too late)
You know, the story of the ring was this
emptiness, bliss
there all along,
delusion appearing great,
feels too strong
yet empty empty
all along
(Of what?)
(Empty of what?)
That’s the question,
the non-existent rub
(still yearning for the out)
So just existing in this tub
Trading suffering
Not for the first nor last time
does such (dis)satisfaction
(edit upon the moment, day)
depend upon my mind
and never these infernal conditions
manifest by mind
It’s my mind
changing suffering, such!
nature of samsara’s temporary kind
So will be relief
when clarity appears to replace
this muddled mess –
direct realization: emptiness
with pure intention
and, please, before death!
Categories
A fickle thing
I started to lose interest
where it began, I cannot tell –
was it diseases of delusions?
or the medications as well?
Aversion to sugar
I dislike that sweet —
but a little too tart?
sours my treat
A dash of salt
is too salty still
when I want a
silly snack
Creamy vanilla
or buttered plain
are two with simple
lack
Yet mocha dark
or caramel glazed
are off my beaten
path
So what is it I fancy?
what is it I crave?
and what will satisfy me?
or quick become depraved?
For once a pleasure rises
a pleasure, she must fall
and he who sympathizes with
attachment
is he who loses all
For grasping at an object,
impermanent, illusion best
is ignorance, the birthplace
of delusions, all the rest
So what will satisfy me
external to my mind?
Nothing nothing no thing
for all that is
is named, is mind
The Halfwit Writer 