Tag: renunciation

Categories
Poetry

Subtle Encouragement

There are no words
for the irrational feelings
of the gross human heart
(gross as in not subtle, nor very subtle,
referring to body, although I didn’t think
I was subtle either)
the body is filled with such putrid substances
36 impure I think
it really doesn’t matter the number
two is too many
and we share ours like it’s love

There are no words
for the irrational feelings
of the gross human heart
so I can make expressive sounds
but they express no sense
(so I’m not going to try)
everything I’ve done so far
now seems so meaningless
if I cannot stop being mean…
for some reason the familiarity
is that of breathing, self-cherishing
it ruins my life continuously
while shamelessly claiming my importance
as number one…
you’d think I’d spot the rub…

But it’s a poisonous devil, desirous
attachment,  uncontrolled desire
a hook, a leash, a pleasure garden
growing harvests of pure deceit,
in all my suffering, in all my lives
you’ve hurt and harmed me
and still, I strive
     love me, don’t leave me
impossible wishes
a one-way street from,
and a door half-open that
must open or swing shut

Each action, not over, plants its seed
later arising, believed,
this appearance of inherent existence
incorrectly conceived
       and permanently perceived
prevents us from achieving
such peaceful states of mind
patient acceptance
compassion, loving kindness 
rolling with the punches
flexible with time
healing from hole punches
or cruel one-night hoaxes
so personal at the time
we see ourself as a pinpoint in time!

How utterly boring!

And how painful the suffering!
find a right and find a wrong
do more of one and less of the other
and that’s a great start
because at the end, at death
we get an answer,
    for which we may work our whole life
          to make it a happy one
free from the most evil joke
        of our unforgetting world
            we never forget our pleasures
    but we’re ever forgetting they’re turning to pain
even when the anguish hits immediately:
    A REFILL PLEASE!

So I wish to volunteer so courageously!
may all negativity ripen upon me
and how about instead, spontaneously
all my cause for happiness and love
        upon those
countless migrators absent freedom
let’s live free from uncontrolled agony
cleverly disguised as ecstacy
a snake in the garden that slurs
       Eat of this tree
it’s why we see things mistakenly
it’s why they tasted the earth, curiously
and – subtle though it was –
       the taste appeared so sweet!
how easy now to crave strange meat
our flesh is not enough for long,
so be prepared to watch the cumming
turn to going – if you do wish to cum that badly …
36 disgusting substances or more!
take it from me,
the subtle is less messy and less troublesome
if you’re the type that prefers childish fun
I highly recommend a different plane
it’s all mistaken anyway…
focus on good causes, attainments

My grandpa would say,
                         just try your best

Categories
Buddhism Poetry

Renunciation

My first attempt at producing a sestina.

My normal methodology for creation is spontaneous overflow of emotion (the excess is disgusting) or free verse, which feels channeled from other sources: spontaneously remembered, rendered incorrectly, perverted, and copied from other great artists, no doubt.

It also seemed more appropriate to select an engaging and more intentional subject matter since the poem is so contrived (in this case); I do not usually set out to write a poem. A poem will find me when it wants writing. However, I do enjoy the dance-like and musical qualities of rhythm & repetition. How many of Buddha’s 84,000 teachings did I manage to include here in this silly display of some of the stages of the path?

Enjoy!

Renunciation, a sestina

I have carefully taken out each hook
and the wounds bled for many a long day
and my clothes remained obviously stained
an unpleasurable display, gifts of samsara
and what should bloom in place of pain?
But another chain! We have no freedom!

Ah! But one must define this freedom
or how will we recognize release from the hook?
Do we know what it’s like to not feel pain?
How should we strive to create a happier day?
How miserable the mind that produces samsara!
addicted to deceptive conceptions, stained

With contaminated eyes, our vision stained
creates evil hallucinations, no freedom
and so we find it hard to escape samsara
our familiarity keeps us bound, as a hook
forcing our steady practice day after day
we should understand this to escape this pain

How difficult to bear witness to all beings’ pain
and accept responsibility for this mind that’s stained
How can I stand to fight me even one more day?
How can I believe the existence of joyful freedom?
How can I have the strength to tear out this hook?
Perhaps a bit longer, I will bear the agony of samsara…

This is addictive quality of samsara
hellish to hold us addicts of our pain
a snare that strangles, we must un-hook
what virtue could purify these conceptions stained?
we need a vast collection of merit for freedom
and increased faith in our spiritual guide day after day

Only he guides us out, faithful step, day-by-day
we must grasp this rare chance to leave the prison of samsara
we are now protected on our journey to freedom
he has shown us how to transform our pain
into pure motivation for ordinary beings, equally stained
cherishing others, I continue to remove each hook

With pure effort each day, we’ll completely purify our pain
detroying samsara and our conceptions, stained
attaining freedom forever from attachment’s unbearable hook

Categories
Poetry

beginningless rebirths, abridged

you see me as a girl when
I have been your mother
you see me mother, after
I have been your child
you see me enemy after
I have been your friend
you see me a beginning after
I’ve been each and every end
only you don’t see the continuum
you don’t see what it’s for
you don’t see the “big picture”
you beg for common sense once more

you see me as a girl
you take me as a lover
you feel each pleasure new
and each pain rediscover
next you’ll meet me as your foe
and know my torture’s art
you’ll beg to be without me
while wishes ripen to never part
the cruelest joke of samsara
the wish-granter, genie, jewel
all worldly prayers do cometh true
with just timing making us the fool

you see me as a girl
radiant, free, and open
and you, overcome with envy,
how you wish to see me broken
by running toward temptation,
grasping at the self, and craving
we lose the possibility of salvation
with such constant misbehaving
how can we overcome our loathing
and refrain from touching skin?
for in heated hate-filled love embrace
I’ll remember you were once my twin

you see me as a girl
when I have been your mother
I have been your sister, father, uncle
yes, I have been your brother
I have been a loyal lab
and I a miser, cheat, and thief
I’ve rested in eternal peace
only to wake with new belief
seeing inner demons, outer
giving unending evil toments
with such cyclic suffering for all,
how can bodhichitta remain dormant?

you see me as a girl
you take me as a lover
you feel each raw sensation new
and rare laughter rediscover
how ’bout we call it quits
and cease identifying this mind
’cause ordinary doesn’t cut it
when extraordinary’s been defined
I don’t know about your view, but
mine says this pleasure garden’s rotting
my time here is running out
and my tell-tale heart is clotting

so don’t see me as a girl
goddamn it! – don’t take me as a lover
because incest is against the law
and I have been your mother
just as sure, you have been mine
some aeons or some years ago
for we’ve done all there is to do
in all the worlds there are to know
so let’s grow bored and say no more
and escape with little wits we’ve left
we’ve done it all … oh countless times before!
now let us create cause for happiness!

Categories
Poetry

Remain ordinary?

The earth movers are
moving, rolling, crawling,
pushing and prodding,
chewing and producing,
reforming earth, not new
a spherical cycle
we cannot seem to undo
because there’s no beginning
as if time isn’t true
no start to these effects
no one to lay cause-mic blame with —
              — Is there no first?

If an action is not performed
its result cannot be experienced
yet, we have results upon results
                     that we do not want
or right wishes ripen at wrong times —
  — How did we get so messed up?

Meeting instructions time and again
  only to turn to worldly things instead —

–What for?
     The status? The stress? The money? The dress? The food? The car? All the gold and the stars? The sun and the moon and that catchy tune? This silly girl? That handsome guy? To hunt the deer? To swat the fly? To fuck that guy? To steal that heart? To flaunt your glory? To meet and part? To taste the spoils? To lose at war? To break most promises? To endure and endure?

What for!

Is it everything you wanted to find?
Is it a wonder to know
                      it’s all from your mind?

the pain and the laughter,
       all the dreamlike appearance

the senses and delights
               the agony and fights

we hurt our own feelings
we stab our own backs
we rob our own purses
our own courage lacks

when will we learn
to break a silly curse
we need only three words
   –why do they hurt?

It’s my responsibility

No, not of this time
not of this place
not of this name
and not of this face

But causes created aeons ago
ripen around me, blow by hard blow
some happy, some sad
some angry, some blue
some maddening disasters
some friends I once knew
for so long without wisdom
I watched in horror, despair
             Oh! What can I do?

No better than an earth mover
moving, rolling, crawling,
fulfilling my own wishes,
pushing and prodding,
swallowing and producing,
making new dirt, not new
a spherical cycle
we cannot seem to undo
because there’s no beginning
as if time isn’t true
no start to these causes
that produce these effects
so with patient acceptance
I now practice with perfect intention
with a pure, faithful, trained mind
remembering dreamlike appearance
to see emptiness directly
                   with clear wisdom eyes

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

way out within

there is a portal
escape route out
             no need to scream
             no need to shout

is it above us?
or is it below?
             it cannot be without
             it is within we go

and when we discover
the truth that lies therein
             that all is mind, is empty
             pure and free of sin

only happiness resides
in our pure, loving core
             only a kind, peaceful
             consciousness, forevermore

(the question is,
             do you want it?)

Categories
Buddhism Poetry

Action’s Clarity

If waiting is confusion
      I must take constant action
always moving, the Tim Kennedy way,
      making meaning of each moment
remembering each pain

How else will I wish to escape?
How else will I make effort to change?

A traveler bound for futures lives
      knows she does not rest
intention fills each moment,
      causes for future effects

Why not make them virtuous,
     choosing happiness instead?

We constantly plan our suffering
      as if carefully ripening its seed
whatever fruit or thorn befalls us,
      we first reach forth to blame

How will we become wiser
                 while prioritizing our fame?

How will we help others
                 while wallowing in our shame?

We should make meaning of our life
                short and precious and rare

We should grasp this opportunity
             instead of yielding to our fear

Will you rise to the occasion?
      Enjoy all moments as they pass?

Understanding true causes
       I just rejoice and laugh

Categories
Buddhism Poetry

the Runner

smart mouth, ignorant mind
quick to speak, quick to die
life too brief, running out of time
creating causes to ever find

   endless suffering

          why me?

fast talk, soft skin
feel without, see within
fast decisions, a life of sin
feel samsara hook you in

   with attachment

           why not me?

as I seek the highest highs
I learn the lowest lows
then suddenly sink lower
than I’d ever thought I’d go

   the lower realms

          not again

yet always I’m forgetting
the causes of my pain
making all escape attempts
nothing but in vain

   putting me to shame

          again

the blue of Mount Meru
reflects into our sky
all the flesh and bones
of all my lives gone by

     exceed its mass

         and still, again,
                 I try

Categories
Buddhism Poetry

Fragrant White Water Lily

Once you told me
if I was a flower I would be
a fragrant white water lily

I couldn’t help but feel pride
that such a thought did arise
in your less-than-poetic mind
about me

Now I see it was a sign

Like a beautiful lotus growing from the mud
I become strong, resilient and kind
Amidst cruel & non-virtuous crud

How you teach non-attachment
didn’t feel right but now I see how it’s wise

Maybe one day I’ll realize you were simply
my Spiritual Guide

Categories
Buddhism Philosophy Poetry

Consistently Mistaken

I thought when I received, I would be grateful.

I wasn’t.

I thought to be pursued would be fun, a real romp.

It wasn’t.

I thought to be beheld as beautiful could give me confidence, know my beauty.

It didn’t.

I thought to be loved to could open my heart, make me love.

It couldn’t.

I thought when tested, I would pass.

I didn’t.

“We will only engage in pure spiritual practice if we have definitely understood that we have a precious human life and we have to use it now. We can die today. It’s possible.”

Gen-la Kunsang, Kadampa Podcast