Categories
Poetry

Common Denominator

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   

Categories
Note

Note 6

‘Twas my speaker, not me. 07.14.21

Categories
Poetry

divination

I am the speaker of the poem
     divine entity
            beauty, grace
      flowing robes and lovely face
   sent from heaven unto this place
pure imagination
     I am water streaming,
   a silent river, sans creepy songs
absent dark tunnels
I, a speaker, fantasy
I, fucking magical
I, ever unseparate from an I
    a true personality
        untrue
glistening, golden, unafraid
       tattooed
cling and clung and am clinging to
       lacking inherent-existence-goo
       a samsaric stew
       a real fuck-you
I, a speaker, falsely accused
       lacking permanent subsistence
       a temporary view
       constantly made anew
I, changing perspective
         a bit see-through
         emptiness-clue
         with good ideas I then undo
I, ever introspective
         meditative
         on the swift escape route out
         I’m wishing you’ll come to
I, the speaker of this poem
          invention imagining the spoken you
    inception in the meta sense
        write it in the present tense
          I haven’t really any plans
     except to collapse into this poem
   when your eyes are diverted
to some other interest, next deserted
from whose side do I exist?
I, the speaker of this poem?
        divine entity
beautiful, strong
                  stunning, intelligent
             rarely wrong
         who from your mind
             came    and soon     
                  from your mind
                                           gone