I’m going to keep doing the right thing.
No matter what.
Hardship does not make me give up. Sorrow does not equate to despair.
I am not a coward.
I will feel the pain and move forward.
I’m going to keep doing the right thing.
No matter what.
Hardship does not make me give up. Sorrow does not equate to despair.
I am not a coward.
I will feel the pain and move forward.
I am stable, humble, fine
I am patient, wise, and kind
I’ve spent the past six years
training my wandering, restless mind
so if I want conditions now
no external one I’ll find
it’s only by creating causes
that my samsaric rope unbinds
I’ve found this perfect life
with all the misery and strife
with all the teachers and the wisdom
and the mental faculty to listen
to instructions for escape
a perfect path that cannot wait
for only in this lifetime
am I guaranteed this fate
Now it seems I’m close
closer than e’er I’ve been before
and through contemplating emptiness
I’ll walk through freedom’s door
seeing a non affirming negative
I’ll realize truth once more
and by meditating fearlessly and purely
with Buddha’s blessings I implore
Even though I impute this I
and it these attributes ascribe
and unyielding to it relate
and with so many qualities inflate
false sense of self, let’s call it I
and for its suffering, I would die
soon I’ll gain freedom from this me
so silly to chase its own agony
Since I’ve stabilized my practice
becoming grateful and ever kind
I’ve ceased this ceaseless grasping
and all harm of body, speech and mind
so I can live to serve all beings
so all beings can be free
I’ve developed these good qualities
in dependence upon Three
You lose by just remembering
You can’t forget your name
And even though you’ll try again
It’s really such a shame
You haven’t hope in high water
If you avoid this middle way
For never do I falter there
I win each time I play
It’s method tried and true
My guide has mapped easy escape
Yet, like so many, you’ll just ignore it
For sensual pleasures you’ll forsake
A win, a title, greatness
While striving for false fame
You’ll burn out, die, forgotten
While I beat you just the same
I win this round
I’ve won each match
All your little moves I catch
And it’s just no fun
To play in vain
For it’s far easier
To achieve my aim
Than for you to lose your stray
It’s like you don’t know how to play
And so I strive to let dogs stay
Where they sleep
I don’t say a peep
Never to blame
Rather my own mind tame
Because it’s not your fault you lose
I repeat, it’s just been a tasteless shame
And a waste of pure potential
If I’m the only one who beats the game
Intelligence and wisdom are rare
uncommon
problems and suffering are abundant
common
When taking stock of your own burdens
count what beasts find refuge in your flock
find the sum of your denominator
this path is carved from jagged rock
There is a division to set you free
based in what is always true
you can’t spell it without “m” and “e”
but it doesn’t exist without “you”
And if you feel this you is everlasting
you might wish for sweet release
but there’s only one place you find escape
in the depths of your mind . . . already at peace
Such a subtle inner destination
difficult without faith to find
absorbed in gross cessation
a very subtle wind will move a very subtle mind
Only a child dreams that death’s jaws
should be an automatic portal
to a supposed better place – or even an end
It would
be, could be
wiser to pretend
we are already happy
with strength to contend
showing a better character
moral discipline and restraint
with bravery and heart not feint
an honour for which all others thirst
and a mind that always puts others first
To figure out what’s common
to the denominator of your life
you just have to find a wisdom mirror
and let go of mindmade strife
The quality we wish to see
is already present –
it’s just buried beneath
aeons of bad habits . . .
and misguided familiarity
divide it out
for there is no
/me
Suffering is addictive. 10.17.21
it’s a beautiful night
I label, I grasp
still, I appreciate
nice temporary conditions
with childlike delight
(especially in winter)
knowing the cause of this peaceful mind
is not this appearance
but an action, long passed
now the effect blooms
in the garden of good conditions
no external wish granted
just joyful disposition
for winter never could bring happiness
what is this effortless arising
so easy, so pure
it’s the mind of renunciation
samsara’s cure
for the only reason I now have delight
is Dharma given kindly
which I recall tonight
A political ideology is always faulty
and, lacking inherent existence, temporary
empty of true philosophy
each strawman finds himself merely
propped up in dependence
– in most cases –
upon a fat paycheck,
pockets stuffed with straw
and sometimes a free iPhone X
We witness a dreamlike hologram
feeling like it’s played out before
hollow men assailed by eight concerns
running to this part of the world and that
searching for sensual pleasures
– or escaping crap –
a quick high, come down, fall flat
putting it all online, shamelessly on the line
and still, with each desire filled
birthing seven more in place
and as the siren’s wine is spilled
each vice is found and chased
I know the appearance to be empty
I know it’s just the karma of this life
arising moment by each moment
ever changing, temporary, light
only made serious in grasping
and how we hold the tendency so tight
we struggle to create a better habit
to remember all appearance dreamlike
is just effects of actions of past mind
and in present moment torment
patient endurance does just fine
as never for discouragement
could I justify a moment’s time
While we wish it would be easy
and that others’ take our pain
there never was a politician
who sacrificed money or his name
and if I need a hero
– and certainly I do –
I just put Dharma into practice
maintaining faith & pure virtue
and never was a better hero
than my internal motive true
mixed with my Spiritual Guide
and all of Buddhas’ blessings too
Oh how my success is guaranteed! and
perhaps because my name means halfwit
I won’t cling to one inborn habit
finding no meaning in madness
I abandon gross self conceptuality
and break attachment to all pleasures brief
now seeing clearly the suffering it brings
not to mention pervading disappointment
“Is that all there is?” old Peggy Lee sings
wondering, doubting that we’ll learn
found in a world without honourable kings
I will not find a perfect ordinary being
It does no good to stomp and yearn
or spend much time out in search
of something I could never find
in this world and in this time
a (single) man – no, not even one –
who knew when to speak or hold his tongue
and understood why war was waged and won,
a man who lives with honour
and dies by sword
or – at the very least –
can keep his word
perhaps he has philosophy
more than a mishmash of newage trickery
a value system tried and true
but then… he would have time for… who?
No, no such person could exist
but female fantasies persist;
so this hero imagined
I take it upon myself to become
and just crank up the volume
if I wish to feel strings, bass and drum
enjoying skin-kiss from torrid summer sun
that sensual object simply swapped
for this other one
changing suffering is all we appear
until awakened from this cursed nightmare
happy ever after begins to seem
no more than an impossible dream
Yet it’s also my firm work-in-progress
because effects must arise
as no action is wasted
and His compassion prophesied
all beings become enlightened
all happy, all free
it won’t be found in samsara
won’t arise from this political crime spree –
we ourself abandon bullshit
and gain control of our mind
with spontaneous understanding
we take it upon ourself to be kind
no other can take responsibility
for this, your one precious life
for when swallowed by death
you leave this world for the next
and there is no remember
no refuge, no best
no freedom, just sufferings
for aeons, without rest
Making use of this life
means bowing out of the race
I haven’t the time
I can’t keep worldly pace
my focus and practice is a spiritual drive
never separate, never selfish
never political nor so contrived
understanding my actions imprint on all minds
I refrain from harming others
and strive to be wise
always increasing my wisdom
and with blessings apply
each Dharma teaching in correct stride
this cannot be mandated nor politicized
for a Spiritual Path is individual
and – in most cases –
private, not public,
but for each, he decides
when to opt out and regain control
of his conscious awareness
and reprogram his soul
until then, never satisfied
I cannot help but laugh
at the fake tears our politicians cry
even as some will believe their lies
I laugh because I am not surprised
and I will not be corrupted
– even in spite –
because happiness is only comprised
of parts found within the mind
– never outside –
so I cannot be bought
I will not run nor hide
and having removed the delusions
pure loving peace now abides
so I can truly help others
without self
– or political ties.
Even when conditions are good
they are never good enough
until I realize emptiness directly
I am never satisfied, never giving up
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
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