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
Buddhism Good Fortune Poetry

Reliance

I am happy
despite circumstances

I am strong
despite my gloom

I am calm
despite storm

I am fearless
despite impending doom

I am giving
despite my poverty

I am glad
despite my lack

I am friendly
despite loneliness

I progress
despite setback

I give with bodhichitta
I give fearlessness and love
I give Dharma and materials
I offer sun and moon above

I offer each and every moment
of pure practice, I transform
I abandon all delusions
and only virtue I perform

But how could I achieve this?
         certainly not alone
only through my Spiritual Guide,
and the Three Jewels upon his throne

Categories
Poetry

a part

I am not apart from my faith
but I am apart from people
       from my mountain cave
I compose poems and songs
       I meditate and I realize emptiness
and still the people come in throngs
       to accuse me of such silliness
feelings that have long since
                                    come and gone

for aeons, our own harm befalls us
but still we blame,
       in mistaken consciousness
still the same
       in all our actions ignorant
I am not apart from my faith
but I am apart from others
       in their silence and their pain
I am apart from you
       and here I fear I will remain  

Categories
Buddhism Poetry

Time Tempts Belief

hard to believe
Time, hardly passed
          and a mark, already here
nearly two years
          and a different mind
has appeared, so many times over

nearly two years ago
you claimed me
unsteady, unstable,
          toxic and cold
now, not two years passed
and I’m too goddamned
          stable and heart-of-gold fast,
too nice for any old soul
          how goddamned depressing
                    for this romantic dolt

time after time, rejected
for incredible conventional reason
understanding it’s karmic creation
                    — nothing personal of course
while feeling deeply personal
a reality of my own making
just the swiftest vehicle
                    my own preference for
navigating Niagara roads

still hard to accept sometimes
          it’s the life I needed, I chose
thank you, my kind Spiritual Guide,
for ripening such conditions —
from which I could never hide
and one day will appreciate
          more than my present self knows

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

Obscure Escape

I

I cannot find the quiet
I cannot drive far enough away
I cannot abide in place
I cannot fight the fray
I cannot find the space
I cannot prance nor play
     I am held within a cage,
          a dream that will not fade away

I cannot find a peace
I cannot dwell in lonely caves
I cannot energy release
I cannot ride the waves
I cannot tame my inner beast
I cannot for patience save
     although I know this is a dream,
          I struggle to be brave

I cannot find the silence,
I cannot fight my demons off
I cannot give up hope
I cannot be still with worries fraught!
I cannot skate this slippery slope
I cannot miss my shot
     if in samsara I can’t cope,
          then escape I keenly plot

I cannot give up now
though many challenges I face
I cannot give up now
the pain grows stronger every day
I cannot give up now
because I’m closer yet than e’er before
     I cannot give up the path,
          I can bear suffering no more!

II

I regret all my bad actions
that have led me to this point
I can hardly fathom how
I caused such a fruitless plight
the minds I held divide and fraction
now with familiarity I fight
     aeons of evil habits
          will see their last midnight

I rely upon all beings
to train my mind to right
I rely upon all Buddhas
to correct my mistaken sight
I apply opponent action
best temporary relief
     I make a sincere promise
          to keep delusions brief

I cannot deny the karma
that has brought me to this place
I cannot ignore the causes
turning to virtue, my only grace
I cannot be separated
from my Holy Spiritual Guide
     inseparably at my heart
          my secret Divine Pride

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