Suffering is addictive. 10.17.21
Tag: suffering
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Bitter Beauty
Winter’s hues
of pinks and blues
have brought me to my knees
Wind’s frosty bite
stings day and night
burned alive by blistering breeze
New fallen snow
rainbowed with sun’s glow
illuminates the deadened trees
Rare beauty appears
just once here in years –
so savour this vicious freeze
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Question 6
What are you reaching for when there’s nothing to grasp? 10.09.21
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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
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
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renunciate
Even when conditions are good
they are never good enough
until I realize emptiness directly
I am never satisfied, never giving up
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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
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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
To feel too deeply
and to be unable to feel
are my two greatest sufferings
and to grasp at the feelings
as inherently existent
my greatest ignorance, their source
I’m forced to walk where my feet go
I’m forced to wonder on what I know
I’m forced to move by winds of mind
I’m forced to suffer, for I’ve been unkind
The Halfwit Writer 