Categories
Poetry

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

Categories
Poetry

vacuous oration

              words on words
he flipped the bird
     and entertained
absurdity
       ‘n’ torn
        paper’s frayed
kaleidoscope image
       he is his cage
his father’s father was delayed
       in learning virtue
was the way
       and still today
a family pays

              absurd’s the word
you heard it
       hear it first
              from me
and then find a qualified source
       for I have a message
that demand’s to be bottled and
caught and released
                  that beast, the words on words
you’d rather she’d heard
              thather than the ones you …
wish!!!
              you could amend

[Narrator: *coughs* I hate to bring that up again]

             yet the part demands to be played
and so another family paid
       karma sweet, then karma tart
karma baked in humble pie
       ripens as happiness and
fortunes that fly
       as the reins of wisdom
slap their steeds
       we’ll leave samsara
and all its feasts
       before the bottle rolls on shore
‘fore the greatest battle,
                            raw guts gore
‘fore Dharma is lost forevermore

              for the 11th is so far away
seeming like an eternity –
       too long to let my family pay
so nonsense verse I offer up
              like empty teacup
                     stainless pot
water boils
              yet is not       hot

for all the teachings yet to come
may each have meaning, every one
and ‘fore this verse starts making sense
              I’ll lose the train of th . . .
                     like I’ve lost cents
a lazy rhyme
              an uneven rhythm
       to trip the orator
              a great let down
       is samsara’s treasure 🤑

he is coming
he is coming
he has come

thank you
thank you
thank you

goodbye

Categories
Poetry

Walk

Walk

It does not matter where your legs take you

Walk

Let the winds move through you

Roam

There are lands to explore even if they’ve been discovered

Rediscover

Move from the material to the imagination

Pace

The rooms in your house & see the cobwebs in the corners

Ignore

The spiders in such places, helpful & harmless

Dust

The webs from your head, because the arachnids that inhabit psychic spaces are venomous

Vomit

The excrement that has no benefit in the stomach of your mind

Stumble

Forward, as a traveler of future lives does not rest

Walk

It does not matter where your legs take you

Move

The inner winds to virtue

Categories
Poetry

Kinda feels like “going”

It always ends

     like a Robert Frost poem

he speaks
     in a language she does not understand

she tries,
     but he is wizened, suspicious

     innocence has no place on a tired vine
bird shit scattered over the fields

wash your produce, she says
           and he takes it all wrong
                   “What’s she on about now
                 I’m tired of it”

            he’s cracking, she’s cracked

yes, when we resign our wills
         to others,
                          when we bend

we believe we will not break
       until the ripping point is reached

will another aimless traveler
                    risk his life to rescue    me

or shall I unravel the web
              I’m caught in
      and escape myself

after all,
          there is no independent existence

Categories
Poetry

Part of it all

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I want to be
part of it all
not individual and alone
not an add-on, but integral
I want my purity to be yours
and I want to spark the virtue
in all minds, together
like water, taking shape

I want to see
the aggregate of aggregates
“I” am
I want to see the “I” differently
so I am not trickster-trapped
by selfish self-cherishing
grasping the most important “me”

I want to be
the cedar on the rock,
the bark on the trunk,
a drop of water in the earth
a molecule of worth
immeasurable yet meaningful
a part of it all

Categories
Poetry Thirsty Thursday

Exception

even exceptions to the rule

break the paradigm
of their     im perfection

seemingly im possible
at the time

wait for the   but 
the     except

wait for it to fall
as the autumn leaves
still green, clinging,
still receiving the nourishment they need

still strong, then cut – jettisoned
tossed, ripped in the wind
painted glory, faded and
               quickly burnt to crisps

as the feelings
               of new love
blossom and fold

as midnight candy
                      opens at night

honeyed fragrance satisfies space
a gift for senses, too soon to pass
                don’t get attached

and you might be alright —
           except

Categories
Poetry

How does it feel?

I dream about the serenades
     I remember each bouquet
          I recollect the cards they wrote
I recall sweet things they’d say

I received all the attention,
     had a taste of every gift
          I enjoyed quality time (a plenty!)
some acts of service, if not swift

and how I miss the ways
     they’d touch me, bow me to their will
          such kind physical affection
that I crave …                 desire still

confused pleasure in each moment
     mistakenly I named the cause
          external force, sexual proponent
when really born from karmic laws

how it feels is empty
     how it feels is lost
          how it feels was temporary
even now I pay the cost

still missing stupid moments
     I still idolize false gods
            still failing through each feeling
still attached to what is, was

still hopelessly romantic
        I’m still burdened to the core
               still looking to step lightly
 while still planting seeds of war

still learning love and patience
     I still apply effort every day
               still seeking Three Jewels of refuge
and for simple blessings I do pray

                                            so when

I dream about the serenades
     smell a sweet bouquet,
          find the cards in deep dark drawers,
and reread things they’d say

I let the attachment slip away

the feeling cannot stay


Categories
Buddhism Dreams Poetry

Temporary Illusion-like Appearance

          Open your mind, heart
          to feel what you feel, name it

your Spiritual Guide whispers to you
as a wave that laps the sandy shore, gently
receding, absent whitecaps

          Name what you feel
          be not afraid
          for what rises will fall
          and what fear have we
          of what is not permanent,
          never mind what we cannot name?
          What we cannot name does not exist,
          so what is it?

and you go within,
as instructed for
within is all there is
when there is
no out there out there

and you feel

disappointment
red, raw, and sinewy
funnily, sadly, and sorely
familiar, rubbed, worn and
blistered, in risk of rot
if you let it fester like
resentment –
                    you can’t
I was here first          your way
in or out of this one

it’s not yours, except
you lay claim to its
disappointment
as though it could have been
if it could have it would have
and it didn’t so it won’t

and you think

acceptance
the sweetest fruit,
sometimes the heaviest to bear
laid at your feet as you risk despair
only having to pick it up, lift it
with legs of wisdom,
but no –
                    I chose
to disappoint       myself

yet, hope

hope is here too
blossoming as a new bud
for disappointment
could not create sorrow
where love and compassion
had already taken root –
my mind protected by a gate of
incredible goodness, the only pleasure
I’ll happily increase in samsara’s garden
where running never yields escape
for the iron fence is the nature
of the mind – presently misunderstood

so hope,

hope that yields to faith
is what transforms my dream
because I must believe that
change is possible, is real
to make progress, effort, heal
I trust my Spiritual Guide’s instructions
for I put them to the test
and when hope transformed to purest
Faith, I see they are the best
and still my foolish mind cannot
afford to rest

because I was the mind of
unnecessary disappointment today
the utmost waste of breath
when each and every thing that’s ripened
has been for my swift path’s benefit
          so this too I will transform
and birth love so great it shall
become the norm, even if time be brief
we have so little to work with,
yet there’s so much we can achieve
if we hold correct belief

so, still I see the disappointment
my mind claims as mine – though truly
I could do without, here, add to that list
my deluded doubt
                    I know my happiness doesn’t lie here,
and still I mourn a temporary loss –
                    so instead, I donate
these mistaken minds to the cause,
the cause of the effect, the only one
I wish to possess, the greatest mind
of precious Enlightenment

(for others’ benefit, may I forever cease
these horrible, painful minds of suffering)

Categories
Poetry

Even You

I always wanted the best for you
that’s kind of why I wished you knew
what you wanted in life, mostly
and, you know, kind of who you’d like to be
maybe one or two simple goals
a job, career — a commitment-phobe
is what I got instead
with stress and anxiety round
his balding head, and don’t get me started
on the gluten allergy

okay, I’ll try not to make it personal –

as a bodhisattva, with bodhichitta
I now pray
for each and every being to be happy
each and every day
for all suffering to be gone
for even you to get your fill
for not one enemy I claim
not one ounce of ill will remains

I hope you’re happy on your path
I hope you’re surrounded with love and laughs
I haven’t left a bit of wrath
to blame anything on you
even when I wanted to
instead I saw the good you grew
in me and many others

despite the bumpy, gritty roads
calves in ditches and girl scout notes
the ups and downs and round and rounds
and endless suffering,
I’d choose it all again —
if I don’t escape this life
we’re bound to repeat that goddam strife
because we couldn’t close the loop
our destiny will be to regroup

unless one of us is liberated,
one of us is freed
although I wish it would be you
I must know it will be me

if what I see in you,
is merely a mirror of myself
a bloody tormented soul
I’ve now left upon the shelf
a chrysalis ripped apart
the snakeskin that I shed
unlike losing hair upon your head,
intentional,
even you remember intention
maybe you even have it now

I believe we all can change

I’m doing it somehow

all beings will destroy delusions
all virtue will ensue
all beings become Buddhas

even me
even you

Categories
Dreams Poetry

Elemental Insanity

I am of the earth

and I do not trust the water

It laps my shore
I lick it up, moistened
soft and damp
left yearning
unoiled lamp
left polished
but wanting wear

I’m earthen
–yet rarely feet have trodden here
while I walk the substrate bare-
footed, rare to see another
with the will to exhaust
such karma there–
upon my earth
travellers now fear
such dirt
and toxins leached have
run amuck
now gotten stuck
upon my shores
where you wish to lap me up

I do not trust
I will not harm the beings near
and you, my dear

I stretch my eye to the edge of
the horizon — trying to find where
water ends and sky begins
unaware I’m standing in
that ether now
my waist deep wading
transcends liminal space
and I no longer seek
to stretch my sightless senses far
but rather remain to feel
the space around

I look up and down and see that
in the sky, reflected back,
a different sea, a cloud
soaring condensation
ready to transform at any
moment, dark and massive
holding deceptive weight
threatening to rise the tides
and drown us all

I don’t trust the water

— — — — —

I am of the air

I do not trust the fire

I love it, though,
and how alluring
it dances and matches
my rhymic fancies
alighting neither
here nor there

like spark to ash
rising into the night
up to the stars –suddenly
dying, vanishing and descending
silently — crying and proclaiming
that life’s not fair

the fire burns me up
its heat draws me in
as if an answer
to the ice around my heart
as if it could possibly melt
lifetimes of anger
turned sorrow to rock
how I wished the fiery
heat-of-passion-
spawned aggression
was the answer
crystal clear —
yet the delusion’s not
so before I’m eaten up
I make like a deer
and run

I do not trust the fire

— — — — —

I am of the light

I do not trust the space
my depth perception’s off
my conception’s out of place
I do not trust the time
the way it moves so slow
to the uncomprehending mind
that dims my afterglow

I don’t like the space between us
as messages get lost, and
when you’re seeing me as separate
with problems you are fraught
I see emptiness before me
yet mistakenly, I know
naming ordinary appearance
where boundless magic grows

I do not like refraction
how it contaminates my rays
I am pure light
I feel it
yet space eliminates & constrains —
though I am the brilliant being

I don’t trust the space

— — — — —

I am of deep ignorance

or else I would escape
this elemental game —
this cyclical existence
in which I’m continuously betrayed
by each and all delusions
that gather round my head
and constrict my heart’s pace so
I can barely catch my breath
it’s time to let this go
into the water I will drown them
& with the current
let them flow