Tag: question

questions

Question 4

Won’t you join me in believing anything is possible?

07.06.20

Tags 2020, believe, dreamer, faith, humble request, optimist, personal, possibility, question, question 4, questions, searcher

questions

Question 3

Where do you feel the music?

07.03.20

Tags 2020, artist, feeling, Music, music philosophy, musician, personal, question, question 3, questions, sensation, skin

Poetry

objectification

(alternative title: Self-Assessment)

I think my leg would make a nice lamp
soft, supple, curved, and round

a good squeeeeeeze

if you look me up from down
   squish in the right place –
        and in the wrong
in front, a bright and lumpy face
   from behind, like every other PAWG
near-perfect ass – not too phat in size
   nicely shaped when I fold in half
        showing off some thick-ass thighs
   and big-ass ribs
an hour glass shape
   with small-ass tits
        deceiving, yes
        disappointing, almost entirely
   but most aren’t interested
in being surprised or disappointed
and so I’m left here unanointed
unbaptized but virginal – ah! a wish!
almost believable, but deceitful kiss
      when every swing returns a miss
except for the three, a perfect strike-out
who pitched to me? and filled me with doubt?

I think my arm would make a nice branch
muscular, freckled, smooth, and strong

nice to tooooooouch

to whom does it belong?
   what soul could search and find
        a truly existent body
   independent of a truly existent mind?

no one!

could it be a limb to build a nest?
could it be a place of eternal rest?
could these arms wrap you up
and hold you firm?
or tickle-torture until you squirm?

and would you understand
such impermanent nature?
or is your reliance political,
predisposed to legislature?

squeeeeeeze instead

evaluate

and don’t forget
your mind creates

and ever empties your plate
but also fills you up

objectify this human creation
   dismantle parts with imagination
      for the whole is empty but of name
   and our mind is non-separate
we’re almost the same

let last words be of virtue, love
      a wish for other’s happiness
and though I fit you like a glove
we play this silly game of chess
              you read these words,
            you leave them here,
            we’re left confused
           filled up with fear

       and then I pray and dance about
and use this body, to move, to shout
        and once again I live so free
   to end all fears and misery
all I’ve got’s one disbelief
        – how could it be only me?

Poetry questions

Where is the joy?

the tedium of days
    with their fits and starts
       a haunting melody
lacking rhythm
          lacking rhyme
       a humdrum routine
safe, content, but lacking life

Where is the life?!

excuse me, for every so often
              I must exclaim
       there’s something pent up —
         they call it rage?
                      desperate yearning?
              I can’t explain!
          but it has to come out!
        how much can I take?
           (thankfully art is a good outlet)

now my prayer be heard by all
    I just want to meet a happy person!
        doesn’t have to be particularly
               handsome or tall
                   (not that that’s not nice)
    never mind lover! maybe friend?
       it’s a very very mad world
      and the time for being particular is near
      end
but we’re not there yet!
           how about a little happiness?
                                  I’m not some joker
                         ‘put-a-smile-on’-quack
                 just a halfwit out of whack
    who to some could be a little woker
                 (not gonna happen
                          you’ll never guess why)

so with all that exclaimed and said
I must admit what I want instead
is to keep my queen-sized empty bed
and lose the roommate I’m lucky to stand
but would much rather be alone each night
I am never so lonely – I’m always alright but

mixing the mind
         with the depressed masses
has brought invisible clouds
          to winter’s false sunny days
lacking warmth
     lacking love

it’s that time of year
        hawks swoop and call up above
       while this nest remains cluttered
        with dog fur of all things, poison
        what can I do but wait and pray?

        what can I do but appreciate
    these lucky opportunities for easy practice
    things were once difficult
           and could be hard again
      so upon which minds will you depend?
          (I hope the happy ones!!)

if the days grow long and tedious
simply rejoice and practice
there’s never need for sorrow, tears
when refuge in Dharma abounds
once more, rejoice!

let the ring go
those who know will know

let go

let joy arise

Tags boredom, choose happy, creative writing, depression, friends, happiness, joy, lackluster, lament, life, poem, Poetry, question, relationships, writing

questions

Question 2

Where does it come from and how does it move through you?

06.29.20

Tags 2020, feeling, how, ideas, inspiration, personal, question, question 2, questions, thought, where

questions

Question 1

Where am I?

06.08.20

Tags 1, 2020, question, question 1, questions, W, where, where am i

Philosophy Poetry

Karma v. Equanimity

How can one help but try and remember
Even ask curiously
Who is this and how do I know them from a past life
As I indirectly feed them or compete for
attention or laughter or share an earnest
word on institutional experience
I cannot help but question
How do I know you?
Did we eat at the same table?
Drink from the same cup?
Have I sensually stroked your arm?
Did you birth me from your womb?
Push me on the swing?
So many lives lived unremembered
Remarkable though they seemed
At the time

Gone. Gone from my grasp.
Yet feelings of familiarty arise
At each and every word exchanged
The touches given, stopped
So weird that you could linger
Like an unfounded memory
Yet I know within my heart
That appearance reflects karma
Though unfolded memory remains
Tucked away for enlightened eyes only
A privilege reserved for tenth dimension beings
And here we are struggling in 3D appearance
I don’t hear you in my dreams
No we weren’t that close so recently
But previous lives are infinite
Circular I like to believe
So we’ve had…how many?

Now you stand before me
Like you’ve never known me
But you bear the name I’ve heard before
Under steepled roof, through Christian door
I strive for patience, not to deplore
A despicable name I don’t care for
You aren’t the same though it would appear that way
And de ja vu is pretty peculiar
So the dream I know is a dream getting weirder
As if it’s possible it could be stranger
But that is one thing you’re definitely not
As you avoid my gaze it’s clear
You’ll never shoot your shot and
I think about the shit lot it sometimes
seems I got – gave myself? – a dream with
Suspicious people in my midst
Horrid roommates taking the piss
Out of my very livelihood – what a ride
My karma has given me, so I turn
To the cause, asking
“What has given rise to thee?
What led this John Doe here to me?
What action have a I done or refused
That left this jackoff rather bruised?”

Better perhaps to question
How do I right the wrongs
That led to these damned impressions?
How do I purify the karma in the way
Of the mind that holds steadfastly
Virtuous equanimity, a warm feeling
And friendly attitude to each living being?
That is peace and happiness to me.