The End of Desire 2.

It’s clever not to desire, isn’t it my friend?
Our worldly duties no longer
Feel weighted like fate, like we once felt
Tied to roles and roses and houses

Let’s not follow authority or impulse
But find the listening actions
The lifestyle that doesn’t inhibit

The world-soul to act through us
We were never going to be anything
But the destiny we had consented to live
The smiles and misfortunes

They were all intended
And in our grace and simplicity
We found a kind of poise to

Succumb to who we were, like sheaths and bodies
That we knew we would outgrow
To be attracted to this or that seems
Only to obey some instinct of nature

That is not false, only artificial
Desire wasn’t the bar, but it was superficial
It wasn’t the kind of skill that led us

To revelation, only repetition
Revelation wasn’t only to repeat
But to learn to be a new person.

If Nothing Lasts

Glittering with minds I come from the future
Hopeful with chariots of voice, I arrive from the past
We meet here smiling with deathless eyes
In the present, and that’s down the sky

We are children of trees and citizens
Of oxygen, we’ve breathed our genes
Into the stones, into the oceans
And I am the cry out to you; again

We all arrive at self-knowledge through love
And that’s when we love against all obstacles
Giving in spite of ourselves, our defects
They are immaterial, we are not engineered

We arrived here by long evolution
A journey that never stops giving gifts
I am not ungrateful to the tragedies
That have taught me humility and gratitude

I will go on like a hero fallen, like a lover, lost:
Be here, by me, stand by my side
If only for a few weeks, months – I cannot
Expect years, happiness comes like a lovely child

That will grow up and maybe
Never to return, all life is miracle, altars, that flicker
If only by chance for a little while
In that timing of suppliant will, I am the mutable

Grass, birds, clouds, families, relationships
That trickle back to the ocean that knows
No cares like mortals, no breaths with heart-beats
No cheeks that redden with the humiliations of a lifetime.
That’s not important, nothing lasts.

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

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.

Untitled zen poem

On observing the P r e s e n t s t a t e

There is an error in thought
That does not recognize silence
Or witness the unity behind everything
Unwilling to see the page of nature

We believe our agency to be separate
But our thoughts are rather
Manifestations of nature

We are part of this design
We lack the trust of instinct
Separating, labeling, judging

Living in a cost-benefit duality
Our intelligence is quite limited
So we search for the coin
In the river where we lost it

But time does not function like that
Memory is no longer accurate
The moment it is recalled
And self is a poor approximation of destiny

Destiny is a non-dual experience
It is the Tao of fundamental reality
So empty your body of illusions

And throw away the madness of attachment
Freedom is not to approve anything
For reality is a gold and dung phenomenon

If we stop pursuing things outside of ourselves
Then might we be able to witness
What is actual and what is essential.

On The F r i n g e s of E n l i g h t e n m e n t

On The F r i n g e s of E n l i g h t e n m e n t

I am the beginning’s mind
In love with many possibilities
So I became a poet
Without accepting the fact

That everything changes
We are impotent
We cannot find perfect composure

Life is a koan ready to be experienced
Transience is that nature
And nurture of the game
Art is like the discipline

Of creating a reoccurring situation
Where the world is its own magic
And we are visitors, it’s that simple

So won’t you stay for a while?
Everything is perfect
And understanding yourself
Allows you to understand everything

And ultimately, we must exist
Right here and now
I am the beginner at love

For only recently
Did I recognize her everywhere.

It Fled from A l l M y E c s t a s y

It Fled from A l l M y E c s t a s y

Whoever has found himself, his soul
Must only seek obedience of divinity
What is divinity but the most natural
A longevity of following inner-beauty

Fading morning star to light of dawn
He who praises must become
Cup of gratitude, and luck of empathy
Found on the journey is the

Secret of compassion
Until we stop being so religious
And stop being so materialistic
Only then can we find the thread

The river of divine happiness
And peace like silence that hums
Tender offing of the soul’s common speech
In prayer, meditation, poetry, art

The ecstasy that the white birds bring
The heart behind the veil
This is what the angels weep
To unfurl its thousand saying voices
The arms of divine beauty are supremely glad.

Remnants of a Thousand Springs

Remnants of a Thousand Springs

The things that one grows tired of
The longing and the loving
And how the face gets older each season
I used to hardly perceive the difference

The wonder and joy are calmer now
My senses no longer follow
I am gracious with just a few
Wheeling stars, a recurrence of spring

A belt of purity across the simplicity
A sacred look a day from a stranger
I imagine to be a good omen
I’m aware of the fuel to inner burning gold

That lets memories fly away like birds
Ascending to a winter heaven
I’m less fortunate than before, I’m lucky
Only as a nomad of the inner worlds

Learning to live without preference
My attachments burned away
Until I found a solid grasp on happiness
That didn’t require significant objects
The props of living, remnants of desire.

Hundreds of years after Zhuangzi

Happiness is the deep peace
That arrives when you
Observe the world with empathy
Wherever you look you feel

Empathy, identity, compassion
That is the bliss when
Your heart shall find peace
It will be at peace, and everything

You have done or been or thought
It will all find perfect acceptance
That’s the source of things
That’s how all beings become tolerant

And furthermore, immersed
In the Great Unity, they find
More joy than they knew
Was possible, in a harmony

That is dignified, benevolent and
Never striving for happiness
Because happiness comes from inside
All the while knowing that

Attachment is a clinging and a distinction
Better to have a boundless home
In the divine container of the universe
That’s the disinterested, amused and loving

Bliss of eyes dreaming in experience
The experience where the space
Between you and I vanishes.

SAMASTI

i

There is no power, like calling the invisible
From the estranged intensity
Of these pockets of soul
These coloured hosts of spirit

ii

A personal episode of faith
On a sunny windless afternoon
The point where Spring turns to Summer
Showing no signs of mastering
Solitude, brusque abrupt compassion will do

iii

A white-daylight Buddhist sort of service
That serves all without judging
There is no power, like community
The human act will make us real again
Connect our knowledge to daily humility

iv

Regaining last crumbs of empathy
Lingering a while like fluff blown
To pollinate what and for who and how

v

There is no power, like a love
That never has to say goodbye, because
We learned to love everyone a bit
Like a Buddhist ceremony of humanity.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Have-You-Seen-God-207652814

Meditation exists at the frontiers of experience

You are not your mind
You do not belong to your body
Move in freedom and do that
Which brings you total freedom

Each moment give in to the new
Drop the past, the anxiety
That accumulate with restriction
Unlearn the past, so that you may

Learn to die in living a bit further
You are not your mind
You do not belong to your body
You are a soul totally alive

Throbbing, pulsating, streaming
A quantum intelligence beyond
The brain, society, species, of your experience
You are a spiritual organ in a network

Let your ambitions and attachments go
For power, prestige, desire, money
Will not lead you to the pure freedom
Meditation exists when you listen to silence.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Autumn-mood-403551984

Prayer Untitled

Prayer is the last response
Of presence when life is denied
So to remain quiet

Is sometimes next to God’s ear
Watching and listening
The last apparatus

Of apparent prosperity
For to own is not permanent
Anything can be taken away

A spirit-diamond trance
Can problem solve
The symmetry of misfortune

Prayer is the last response
Of an unconditional force of happiness
Too infinite is consequence

For us to seize destiny by the throat
Prayer is the easiest sport
When our slow capacities deploy

A crude response to vivid nature
So to act is not always wise
Then do we notice things overlooked

Our mind italicized by light
That darkness be prerequisite
To spirit’s final room

As narrow time’s jostle between
What we once called life & death
Bent to water, till we died

Prayer is the last response
When belief no longer regulates
The perception of our undue significance.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Skyfall-403075862