Tag: samsara

Categories
Poetry

Free Yourself

(Alternate title: The Emperor’s Old Cage)

I see you in your little cage
exhausted having spent your rage
avoiding me from right next door
while pretending you’re in Singapore
I feel you in the gusts of wind
that rattle the panes as drafts creep in
the coldness of your inherited state
your brilliance like countless snowflakes
glittering in the lamplight’s splay
temporary, soon melted away
timid as the portalled rainbows
refracted rays as rare as angels
bestowing a captivating vision to
a silent waiting world,
attachment to external appearance, feeling
meaningless beyond the moment of enjoyment
or perhaps in time travel, occasional memory
bubbling to the surface from an ether
seldomly accessed, no longer in reflex
your alternate reflux exasperating
creating such drawn out suffering
pervading all minds — so instead
you should find the lost key
or break the lock to your invisible cage
and be free of the misery in your head
which is a choice, a bore
and follow the fun and light some more   that is the path of the fearless emperor

(how do you resist joyful allure?)

Oh! How you would shine
with the radiance of fresh-fallen snow
in the pure sunlight, if you should try
and break free

Categories
Poetry

déjà vu

lying cramped in the tub
feeling like I’ve done this not hundreds
but infinite times before
floating here in scented water salted
overly concerned with eight unavoidable concerns
actually caring to be incensed or insulted!
tossed about violently and needlessly by eight winds!
anyway, words are received meaninglessly, buoyant on the sea
of a soured mind, like mine

if I observe for even a moment
I bear witness: I exist so foolishly
perfumed, smelling sweet as a rose
but still rotting with refusal to diffuse
the subtle self-cherishing arising
I see delusions and try to oppose
the inappropriate attention
hooking my senses
guiding me toward inappropriate action
easy to engage for a moment of mild enjoyment

but how much sweeter the treat of her
if you bank with interest for later delight
collected faster with correct imagination
using wise discrimination to do right
saving a virtuous treasure for
an auspicious time, devoid kryptonite
unknown to a non-clairvoyant,
powerful but ignorant mind, like mine

still, I accept that the merit must ripen and
I can find the fruits faster, not by cheating,
but by pure intention and
multiplying with imagination for
immeasurables and always remembering
the tub is the nature of suffering
changing, and misunderstood

Categories
Buddhism Philosophy Poetry

renunciate

Even when conditions are good
they are never good enough
until I realize emptiness directly
I am never satisfied, never giving up

Categories
Poetry

Break the Chain

I no longer wish to meet those
who make me regret my virtue
of course, I can’t excuse my own forfeit of mind
and I never would regret virtuous intention
even when challenged!

Instead, I see clearly that in samsara
there exists no real happiness, no good reputation
no wealth, no status, no good condition
not only failure, misery, and criticism
not only lowly status and painful position
but always departing from what we love
and too often meeting what we hate!

So if i have any regret, it’s saved
for actions throwing me lower than the grave
then I purify completely in three more steps
with reliance, opponent force and firm promise
never again laying claim to hateful mind
never again to drink addictive poisons
never again to grasp, to crave
never again to begin again
  the beginningless cycle of suffering
this lifetime I break the chain!

I will die without regret
having used every momently wisely
a cause-creator, achieving true happiness

Categories
Poetry

the shape of my mother

all things are her shape
for she created my world
all beings, mother

Categories
Poetry

Curious Undertaking

They say curiosity killed the cat
and satisfaction brought her back
but in samsara’s spoiled waters
I find only ill departers
it’s hardly satisfying
when everyone I love is dying
I see sickness in all migrators
who swim wantonly with alligators
breaking open hearts and seals
contemplating Sinbad’s deal
excusing whorish proffers
while taking what’s not offered
to indulge each selfish desire
to enjoy the heat of temporary fire
turning quickly to ember, burning out
leaving grey ashes of deluded doubt

How can I help all beings
with such ailments of the mind
with intense hedonistic attachment
to each sensory pleasure, illusory yet defined
each one appearing solid, concrete
while in actuality like a dream from mind
produced from empty-like space
contaminated matter is all I find
I must vomit out this poison and
grow virtuous roots, from seeds purified

To help nurture this new garden
of joyful, chaste, and pure delights
to replace increasing darkness
with pure increasing Dharma light
I visualize taking from all migrators,
their poison, like charcoal smoke
the delusions leave their bodies
arising unobstructed from all folk
all suffering, ill intent, all harmful desires
billow like black clouds from raging forest fires
flow, now fly, to my subtle mind, my heart
and are destroyed completely at the inner drop
annihilating my self-cherishing and my self-grasping
now I give pure, boundless love and compassion,
and I too receive this medicinal nectar
all beings enjoy happiness, everlasting
and I become a pure preceptor

Categories
Poetry

confusing conditions

built to be broken
 & cracked down to dust
born to be suffered
     offend and break trust
invented to abscond
 tried to be trashed
   told to fuck off
     & thrashed for a laugh
samsara’s play buckles
          pulls out all the stops
the audience participation
          wallops a good punch

nonsense and dream world
          collide innocent
how do awful things ripen?
can we prevent one torment?

it hurts so we harden
it pricks so we hack
               all beauty to pieces
        even though it doesn’t last
                                     on its own

what pride can be held
    in accomplishing the same
         as time does with no effort
              robbing us of each name
revenge becomes pointless
    as our hearts become stone
I press, we must realize our mind
‘cause I can’t take this pain
                   all apparent losses
    grief felt again and again

all relationships tarnish
      all chaos lets loose
I thought this time was different
      and so volunteered for the noose
but from this redundant perspective
      it’s so easy to see
I was built to be broken
    & caged to be freed

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

A note from the caterpillar

The caterpillar is nice to visit
            … in a way

He smokes his pipe
  and blows his opinions
               in your face
     whether or not you’ve asked for it

But how much more you enjoy Alice
    pretty and naive, a human even
    quiet and observant, stupid even

                    (What would it be like?)

The girl and ‘pillar
     both approach the end of a cycle    transitioning, evolving
     but one appears an ugly ascension
     better left ignored
   the other’s gracelessness is hidden
           within, ignored

I am not Alice, a girl

secretive or demanding
wishing for non-blond understanding
I have never been lured
by a white rabbit or a rabbit hole
afternoon naps are not really my thing
and I’m awakening from my daydreams

I am the caterpillar
         before it’s eaten by the bird
never to say a butterfly word or whisper
no kisses, no gratuity, no drinks
only brief passers pausing
for wisdom, absurd
or for entertainment to enlightenment
as I age to a disgraceful degree, resisting
before acknowledging

I’ll never fly

    I’ll never be seen as

                Alice

the caterpillar says goodbye