W e A r e What We T h i n k


Screen Shot 05-10-15 at 09.58 AM

W e A r e What We T h i n k

If we become what we think
To purify the mind should
Should be our priority
The mind is everything

So let us not dwell on the past
Or dream too much of the future
But love the present as
The greatest gift, like

Health, wealth, faithfulness
And learn to love too
The nature of change who
Can be aggressive or docile

Peace comes from within
Conquer yourself with acceptance
Love yourself with surrender
The shadow’s good health requires

That we become less attached to our shadow
The patterns we fabricate
As comfortable routines of dysfunction
The shadow is what we must act upon

Holding on to anger or giving words
To sadness to ourselves
If we become what we think
We must laugh at our shadow

Convince it to dissolve
For we have to work our own salvation
Do not depend on others for it
They will not have time to care for it.

GREAT FOOLS


52

I am too lazy to be ambitious
My unconditional surrender too full to act
I let the world take care of itself
I let my fate weave its roads
I can get along with good books
One friend, one meal of rice a day
Why chatter about the news or enlightenment?
We are all deluded in our own ways
With our familiar dull frames of reference
I write instead, poems that are not my poems
These poems are not my poems
This way we can begin to speak
About the poems that touch everybody
The seers wrote poems like putting twigs
Into the fireplace, the fire that keeps all beings warm
It is not important to be famous, but to be comfortable
I am too lazy to be ambitious
I am too free to believe in particulars.

A SOUL WEARING SKIN


8

i

A ribbon at a time
Impermanence takes us away
From the amethysts of memory
And the singleness of personality
Repairing everywhere
Love blooms without condition
With the design of evolution’s
Enterprise, who can miss her?

ii

A Sunlit cloud at a time
The days rush with golden hours
For progress, expansion, finally to decay
An inch of the Season at a time
That quivers in purpose’s circumference
Our audience is to idleness
As a disdained sky to the sunset

iii

Of our lives, where did it go?
Where did it go, it went
To the strangest sea, to the crumbs
Of all we built, how we travelled
A soul wearing skin for a while.

RELIGION OF WEALTH


3

i

Impurity is to live unnaturally
The messengers of death come for us
With your pharmaceuticals and life-insurance
Have you made provision
For the journey friends?

ii

Like withered leaves from too much pleasure
What have we truly given to the world?
Your life will one day come to an end
And the habits of your transgressions
Will be mimicked in other lives

iii

As a civilization consumes forests, oil, iron, coal
As a world is enroached by one
Dominant predatory species
Impurity is to engineer artificiality

iv

Men will place computers in their brains
And create beings to magnify his instincts
For dominion, pleasure, greed, profit
Progress for a few entitled countries

v

All exalted by the Corporations
Impurity is to follow injustice free from civic duty
To equality, living without compassion

vi

In the pursuit of wealth as dogma
In the profit of the few, over the many, as ritual;
There is no conscience in greed
Cloaked in self-determination
No true merit, in elitist inheritance.

LIKE FLOWERS BELOW THE BLINDED CROWDS


2

i

The Body is my holy instrument
Therefore I shall not endure to live
At the expense of suffering creatures
I shall not ingest poisons or other animals

ii

I shall be skilful with service & flowers
This world is like foam, to be sure
Ready to be born and to die at every moment
I shall see death and life equally, as if
With the same eyes, loving all who follow
Their inherent natural purpose, these clear paths
Satiated so easily in worldly pleasures

iii

The sleeping Cities consuming & gathering
Wealth, children, time – I know it’s temporary
I care not for the faults of others that are necessary
Nor for those who would conquer the world

iv

Like Flowers we must give our own colors
As many kinds of garlands, our scents travel
Down to the River, with the good Wind
The Soul is my holy seat of memory
Therefore I shall serve beauty and suffering creatures
The blind machine of the crowd cares enough for itself.

DISTANCES OF PLEASURE


1.

i

I have been distracting myself
In an Ocean of pleasures
Grasping purpose in the world

ii

I found the clinging and the having
Unpleasant, empty, forgetful of meditation
With my temporary pleasures
There was a burden of grief
Imprisonment, dissatisfaction and loneliness
An animal in a self-chosen cage

iii

In my relative attachment to the world
I somehow missed the sip of divinity
And with my greed, there came a fear
Of losing, failure, abandonment from security

iv

I have forgotten how to live without lust
I go from one craving to the next
As if living a simulation, envious
Of the remembrance of virtuous living.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/11-11-455255289