Poem - The Golden Gate Bridge Prayer

make me a channel of thy
golden gate bridge

where there is darkness let me bring
san francisco golden gate bridge

oh master grant that I may never seek
golden gate bridge

and in dying we are born to eternal
san francisco golden gate bridge

or Alcatraz island

---

Poem - The Wish Fufilling Tree

a whole mighty tree that dispenses anything you want was moved in
and then was also simultaneously moved out
with stars twinkling and music being played
and a thousand dancers
with paper lanterns and party favors
snacks drinks lovers raised from the dead
.
.
.
but the time limit was hit
with some strong reverb and feedback
on to other things


----

Winter 2014

Poem - THIS NOW

to love without attachment
and make it possible to have compassion
without being taken up my momentary anger or disappointment

seeing all things as momentary
in transition from one revived (or unperceived thing)
THIS NOW like pops from pop corn or bubbles from a squirt gun

a waterfall of jewels and magic tricks and people and animals
all together in a waterfall of of


----

for Jñana

Poem - Just a Memorable Fancy

it is insane to look for saints in only one house or tree or field
where a saint appeared before and nimbus

angles and mahasiddhas are not herded and when they speak
the virtuous ignore them

so if you want to find the saviors at work this day today
the high ones your grandchildren and their children will pray to

go somewhere that turns your stomach and you feel angry
give your life away to people who seem useless
radically fritter away your promise and your talents
pour your treasure down the toilet for others
slave in the name of  others and have not a grain of thank you
work work work with no imagination of reward
die every day and live again for the next day helping
keep dying by helping others
kill all your ideas by washing dishes mopping slopping
pick yourself to the bone by giving

* * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
* * * * * *
* * * * *
* * * *
* * *
* *
*

amen
om mani pademe hung
thank you
amen


----

For William Blake

Quail Meadow
Winter 2014

Poem - Buddha or a Bodhisattva in an AA Meeting

i.

he's a buddha
he is upsetting
he stinks

people recoil
disgusted
even angry

if he isn't a buddha
he's a bodhisattva
dirty and laughing

with a backpack and
a odious blanket

he smiles
and sips coffee

out of the rain
in an AA meeting

ii.

then i remember
the stinking gypsies
in venice

on the vaparetto
angels

and the maniac
meditating on
market street

in SF
mahasiddha

i have been
wrong about it all
my vision

my outlook
my seeking comfort

desire for
pleasantness

iii.

are you
resolved with me
to gain enlightenment

and bend a nail
or be hungry

or even smell
funny




----

Canyon Club
Laguna Beach
2.27.14

Poem - jñana / before it rained

jñana
before it rained
the atmosphere was dark and hovering
all these crows started calling calling calling

then it was bright




---

Quail Meadow
2014

Poem - i wished to/ they said

i wished to

forget and then forget
the forgetting

mind it in dreams
only occasionally

never with regret or
with sorrow

they said

your heartbreak
and remembrances

keep you from
being in endless ignorance

without real courage
or any faith


---

to Jñana
just before it started raining

Poem - so / thank you / i have no complaints

\ when it comes
it seizes me

with gentle hatred
i settle into contemplating

i catch myself

i need to pray
or hate some more

so i choose prayer

will it make a difference
 i don't know

i've been told it does

so

 thank you
i have no complaints



---

for Jñana

Quail Meadow
Irvine

 

 

 

in memory or remembering offhand
or when it comes
.
when i settle into contemplating
with gentle hatred
.
this is when i catch myself
with some regret
.
i need to pray or hate some more
so i choose prayer
.
will it make a difference i don't know
i've been told it does
.
so here i go
thank you i have no complaints
.
.
.
---
.
for Jñana
.
Quail Meadow
Irvine

Poem - blinded by waywardness / by stupidity

blinded by waywardness
by stupidity

but the fool in foolishness
is so holy

when truly a view innocently
spontaneous

---

to Jñana

Poetry 2

"People who think Poetry is a toy, or harmless...these people are also immune to irony, they're unconscious of beauty -- as far as I can tell, they believe they will live forever in the body of a porn star."

    -- CP Straube

Poetry

"Many are motivated to write poems broadly about love and flowers, when the vehicle of poetry can carry anything else -- particular are pointed things, like menace, or fear. Poems can thrill your sense of beauty or the ideal, but also introduce to the reader subtle suggestions of disquiet, horror. The best poems do this double-take at the same time, or introduce to the mind opposing concepts, and you don't know it."

      -- CP Straube

Poem - none lost that wasn't gathered

I am the straining
I am the tears
I am
the inconsequential fears

You are the fading
You are the light
You also
walk inside the night

Like a bird that knows it way
or a word when right to say

Free from separate or together
none lost that wasn't gathered



----

2.25.14

Poem - Higher Up

feet mark the snowy field
you can see where you walked

how you held the gun
where you met the sunlight

how the rays slashed
into the blue shadows

halting from the treeline
and making the ridge stand out

there you opt to cross the fenceline
by bowing under the wire

in white winter sunlight
mixed with a gust of cold air

higher up you look back
to the valley of trees and field

and barely remember
how you got up here in the light


---

Bennett Valley

Poem - where a deer hopped

the river plunging cold
no words

water silver see through
fingers of ice

reflections beautiful and deadly
gem like white snow

black branches mark a spot
where a deer hopped

slipped and drowned



----

Poem - silly to think

there is an urgency in the hush
of a moment before
when the clock ticks or strikes
but it does not as expected

and after that time the mind
wonders will time keep going
or have i died and not know it

you might look and wonder
then the tick happens
or the timepiece chimes

silly to think
you were hearing and dead

but are you


----

Poem - by appearances appearing

universe lampooning itself
by appearances appearing

see a bubble or a house
flitting aimlessly or fully in flames

the moon or a hubcap
shining all night or shining in the light

referring to the referring
in that endless endless in turned way

see the softness of the fury
of each miniature perfect snow flake


-----


to Jñana

poem - flame looking for fire

if you look for it
you will never find it

in looking
it is like a flame

looking for a thing
called fire


---


to Jñana
2.23.14

TONIGHT ONLY - POETRY IN PAPER BOATS

Who does not like a little poem in a nifty paper boat? Especially if it is raining, like it was last night. I passed out all of them last night. Not one left. Now I go fold 15 - 20 more paper boats. Then next week, hand them out, with a poem in each for Free Poetry Night, Laguna Beach.

I Wave at Her

It rains in Laguna Beach. People aren't used to the rain. A lady almost runs me over in a crosswalk, while I am crossing with the walk signal. She is turning left, and she did not look.

She stops in the nick of time. At first I want to be angry, but I see she is so pale with horror, I wave at her. I can't be unkind to a lady like that.


----

Cleo n PCH
LB

Writing: Thank You for Asking

He writes every day.

Some days, someone asks him a question, "How is the writing going?"

He thinks about all the crazy writers out there, who scribble on old napkins or in the library with notebooks. Rooms, cold rooms, over-heated rooms, dark hotel rooms. He thinks about drunk writers in flop-houses and dive-bars, or even a nice bar on the Sunset Strip -- but never with much money. Some bars have a fishtank in them, where you can watch metallic blue and silver fish swimming around decorative multi-colored coral. He thinks about all the writers who never get asked this question. Cold big cities. Alleys. One way streets. Blank sidewalks. He thinks about writers who write, and nobody knows or cares if they write. He gets grateful.

"The writing is going good." he says. "Thank you for asking."



=

Writing - Have a Blessed Korean Day

It was a bit hysterical, getting used to the spell-checker on the new phone. But occasionally you can wish people a 'happy day' or also a 'Korean day', and when you say 'love right back' and it comes out 'love rightly back', doubly true.

And better yet, when he asked his phone, "Will I have a good day?" It didn't say aye, or nay -- instead it directed him to a website that suggested how to have a good day, in 19 steps, with pictures.

Oh wise phone. :  - )


----

Poem - Illusion is Yours

I have more flying dreams
-- the dreams are always the same:

I soar walking or skating on air,
amazing how easy it is.

All you have to do is believe,
and that illusion is yours.


----

Quail Meadow
2014

The First Dream I Remember of 2014

On New Years day, I wake up before dawn. It is 2014.

I realize I had a dream of my teacher who died in July of 2013.

In the dream, we are at the Dharma center in the Santa Cruz mountains, the place my teacher founded. It is just after dawn, the light a bit misty. We are in a field, and there is a line of people waiting to get a blessing from my teacher.

I'm three back, from the front of the line, and off to the side a bit so I can see my teacher.

The first people in line is a couple I know very well, they have given the last 20 years of their life in the service of this teacher.

It seems they want to give my teacher an offering, some mark of special respect, but they don't have what they want to give to him. When I realize they are non-plussed, I go to them and say, here is something you can give our teacher.

I take off my mala, and I give it to them -- I tell them this mala was the last thing I possess from our teacher, that he blessed with his own hands.

Our teacher puts the mala on, and the couple begs him for a blessing.

Our teacher says "Of course -- I have a good one! A special one!" and with a huge smile on his face -- the biggest radiant smile I've ever seen, he grabs the bottom of the mala and rips it downwards and breaks the mala so all the beads on the top fly through the air.

The whole mala is falling to the ground, I dive to the feet of my teacher to grab the beads before they get irretrievably lost. I grabs some beads and I see ringsal is there too, so I have some beads and ringsal.

Then I vividly see my teacher kneel to the ground over me, seizing my wrist. I look at him, and he is about 35 years old, young and strong and smiling. His grip is very strong.

"What are you doing?" he asks kindly, intently.

"Its okay! I'm gathering the beads so your blessings won't be lost for all of us. I've broken this mala before, and I don't want to lose any more beads."

My teacher smiles, happy to hear what I said. He looks up, still kneeling over me, and says "See, all of you -- what an excellent practitioner this boy is."

When he says this, I begin to cry, because I would rather have my teacher back and well and alive -- than have this dream where my teacher says such shocking things.

Movie review of Michael Mann's "The Keep"

Review of "The Keep", a 1980s horror movie written and directed by Michael Mann, who also directed Miami Vice: "A great movie to watch, while sorting mismatched socks."


.

The Italian Monster Truck Racing Association -- Rally at the Vatican, 2014

My son last night attended a monster truck rally in Angel's Stadium in Anaheim, CA. A good time was had by all. Interesting, I found out today that the Italian Monster Truck Racing Association  / Italiana Truck Enorme Fraterna Groupo (ITEFG)), has announced a new monster truck racing series that will be scheduled, tentatively at the Vatican, for later 2014. Scheduled in historic St. Peter's Square, to appear will be the terrifying "La Santa Famiglia" formerly known as "Incitatus", now sponsored exclusively by the Holy See -- thus the new name. Also in the competing, "St. Peter" (formerly known as "Hell Crasher"), "St. Paul" (formerly going by the name "Ravenna Revenge") and a small FIAT monster truck renamed "Lamb of God" will all be appearing for this epic first-ever racing challenge. Details to follow, when they are known.

Writing - Oh, Pamela!

He received an email the other day, from someone he didn't know. From "Pamela Monarrez", the subject was, "Frankly speaking...I WANT YOU!"

Oh, Pamela! Vivid images passed before his eyes -- of palm trees and figs with Pamela with dark eyes, living on sun-kissed beaches, earnestly waiting and lonely. Wearing a bikini and a little cowboy hat.

He clicked on it and followed the links, and he single handedly installed spyware on his computer and all his friends. And he knew what he was doing. He was looking for love in all the wrong places, even with Nigerian scammers.

But what if you did find love that way? Stranger things doubtlessly have happened. He kept clicking away.



.

1.11.14

Writing -- Nearly Identical

I envy my neighbors car, and therefore I hate my neighbor even more so.

He has a Aston Martin, Vanquish Volante -- he just bought it yesterday.

I know he watches what I buy, and he timed it to be right after I brought home my new McLaren 12C.

At 5.30 AM today, after some deliberation, I decided to take a dump on the windshield of the Aston Martin.

Outside it was cold, and foggy.

I got gingerly up onto the hood, and dropped my pants -- and while I was not worried about getting caught, my neighbor came out on the driveway.

"Hi." I heard my voice say calmly.

"Ok." was all he said.

He jumped onto the hood of my McLaren and copied me.

We shit at the same time.

We didn't say anything else as we both closed the front doors to our houses -- each with a near-identical view of a misty pre-dawn ocean.


*

After thinking about it -- I know one thing for certain: We all act like we know what is going to happen next, we act like we certainly know what the possibilities are.

But we have no idea what will happen next, whatsoever.

For all of it.


------

Southern California
Winter 2014

Writing - Rain

It rained a lot, all year round, and he drank to the rain. He'd be drunk, and it would be raining -- he'd sleep and hear the rain falling. The rain fell through things, through moonlight, sunlight, through holes in the eves. Dripping eves made him angry. A drainpipe was clogged with leaves, and the rainwater turned black at the foot of the sinking foundations of the two-story building he rented the apartment at. When it rained especially hard, the wall of the abandoned house next to the apartment would turn the color of tanned skin. Then he'd unsteadily turn on a light that should have shed an amber happy glow to offset this. The light was amber, it cheered him a bit, but then he forgot what he felt and the dreaming would start again. Two closets with curtains instead of doors leered at him, full of old papers and old boxes.


----

Oak Park
Lombard Street
2009

Writing - The Model from Brazil

Then there was the winter evening in the gallery in Laguna Beach, when the drunken Brazilian supermodel came in to look at the art.

"Are you gay?" she asked him, standing very close, looking at him.

"No, I am not." he replied.

"Oh. My friend is gay. He drives me everywhere." she said, swaying slightly, as if under water.

"Your friend seems to be a very good friend to you, to help you get around."

"Yes." she said. "Would you like to kiss me?"

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"Would you like to kiss me?" the model said.

"Of course I would." he replied, and he held her and kissed gently on her cheek, next to her ear for a long time, swaying to a phantom tide.

She left with a few of his books and he never saw her again.



-----

Winter 2013
Laguna Beach, CA

Writing - Ruins

Ruins. Even before I decide if I am right, or wrong, I look inside. I have a junk shop in my mind, a recycling yard, derelict museum. All of the contents are second-hand and used, none of it is original. Everything is cobbled together. Am I angry over my collectables? Disturbed over my ephemera? Am I isolating over tattered refinements? Alone in the ruins.

Writing - Ozymandias Coming or Going to Poor Phil's

At a certain point of his life, devoid of real purpose or thought, he walked at night in Oak Park.

Ah, Oak Park -- home of Hemingway, and Frank Lloyd Wright! There was the time of the year when lights glittered on the houses and fences. With the gracious homes lit and bunted with holly, silver bells, jingles, reindeer, gold balls, festive and whimsy trinkets and whatnot, some people would sit framed by their living room windows, or panoramic dining room windows -- un-shuttered, un-curtained. They imagined they were displaying gala parties and stimulating dinners -- or he imagined they imagined they were imagining gala parties and stimulating dinners.

He stared at their widening smiles, the joviality, the familial bliss. The "I have prospered, because I am humble in the eyes of the Lord, see he has blessed me." Or, "I am Ozymandias, look on my works and despair". He'd heard both statements, or thought he did in what he was seeing.

But he was mostly drunk, carrying a torn paper bag, and walking in the dark like a ghost. Coming, or going to Poor Phil's, the only pub in town.



------

Oak Park IL
December 2010

Writing -- Quiz: The State of Archie McPhee

QUIZ:

Barbara: I'm worried I have not started my Christmas shopping yet. Where should I go in Seattle?

Christo: You don't have to do anything. You live in the state of Archie McPhee. Just go by there and talk to them and they'll give you a trunk load of stuff for free. It is in the agreement, for your area.


TRUE OR FALSE?






A:

True

Writing - Would You Remember

He never had an imaginary friend, but sometimes he would talk to the ceiling at night, in his sleep. He'd also point to where they "got in, through the ceiling". This was upsetting for other people, and they would wake him up and ask him what this was all about. But if you were asleep, and you said you knew things -- like where buried treasure was, or the secret for the elixir of eternal life, and someone woke you up and asked you were it was, would you remember?

In his case, he did remember. He was dreaming of marionettes wielded by unseen persons.

----

Quail Stove Hot
Irbles, CA

Writing - The Meaning of Irvine

What is the meaning of 'Irvine'? It comes from Latin, meaning "Ice-Pick". Alternately, it has been translated as "Shiv", the moniker of an ad-hoc stabbing implement fabricated when incarcerated. Some academics have presumed to infer 'Irvine' comes from the Ancient Norse, 'Irarväe', which means "to pillage by starlight". Or, more literally, "to murder greatly by starlight".

Not to be didactic, but 'Irarväe' really could be translated as "great murdering starlight" or "he who is motivated by starlight to kill". In any case, quote me as a source in your thesis.


-------

Quail Motors
Irvine, CA

Writing - The Creepiest Thing

The creepiest thing that was ever said to him, was nothing at all.


------

Hot Stove Meadows
Irvine

Writing - You Have to Be Alert

"You have to be alert, Linda!" he says striding down the sidewalk alertly. He's a big guy. Linda might be his teenage daughter, trailing behind him...she looks cold. She'll probably be trailing behind him her whole life, and Linda needs to get used to it. I listened to him, and farted.


----

Laguna Beach
Night

Writing - Pirate Retirement Home

The dream of pirates -- a Pirate Retirement Home. Sunny. Plenty of rum. Peace and quiet. Not in the Caribbean. Anywhere, not to remember those deceptively blue tranquil waters. All for the tepid silence and cold, say, of the outskirts of Cleveland.


------

HMS Hot Stove
Quail Meadow

Writing - I Dream of Bamboo

I dream of bamboo, grove after grove of it -- it is a renewable resource, you knew that, right? But in my dreams, bamboo is made out of pure gold.


-------

Bamboo Groves Quail Meadow
Dec 2014

Writing - Fight with the 'New Team'

We brought the "New Team" in for a global solution -- they were very go-to -- meeting with our customers all over the world. Things were looking up, and then someone left the coffee pot on -- the main office burned down. The "New Team" had our only copy of the customer database, and they absconded to Hungaria, or Argentina. Sorry, Hungary. They'll be back! They have to come back to either San Francisco, or Seattle, for Christmas. Then -- fight!


-----

Quail Meadow

Writing - Writing About Guatemala

I have had some visitors from Guatemala, and I know very little about this country. But I will write a few nice things about the country of Guatemala: I imagine the wool from Guatemala is of superior quality, and that the weather in Guatemala is temperate. I'm sure people look out for each other in Guatemala. Probably much more than around here. The more that I speculate about the positive things about Guatemala -- a place I know nothing about -- the more I think I want to go live there. People reading this, who exist in Guatemala, you have no idea how lucky you are.


----

Quail Hot Stove Meadow
Irvine

Writing - Shit bag w/ Options

The ____________ was going great, it was almost done in record time, when he questioned why it could ever be done right with the concept of it being done in "record time". False, untrue, fuckup -- Zen corpse, shit bag. So he stopped writing and turned the heater on, because he was tired of being thrifty and not running the heater. Shit bag.

a) Poetry book
b) Travelogue
c) Memoir
d) Bodice Ripper


-------

Hot Stove
Irvine

Writing - Sometimes All We Want is Two Hellos

The phone rings two times, I answer it.

"Hello!" Silence, so I say, "Hello?"

The person hangs up.

Sometimes all we want is two hellos.


-----

Quail Meadow

Writing - Everyone Knows Thier Birthday

Alex: So what day is your birthday?
Chris: (Absent mindedly) I don't know.
Alex: Yes -- you know!
Chris: Oh yeah, July 11. Silly me. Everyone knows their birthday.


---

Quail Meadow
Dec 2013

dream if bashō 30

dream if bashō
says shhhhhh!

but there is nothing

to hear and points

and you see

nothing to see

this flickering sunbeam

 

 

 

 

.

dream if bashō 29

dream if bashō
bows to the soldier
with great respect
to the prostitute
to the highwaymen
to the innkeeper
to cherry blossoms
even to you




.

dream if bashō 28

dream if bashō
at ends fire low
hole in sandal
hat and bag
even raincoat
so when night
is cold he knows it




.

dream if bashō 27

dream if bashō
disappears for
this moment
in a grove
of bamboo
when you find
a shy deer




.

Every world class museum is now safe enough to play baseball in!

My idea to Major League Baseball is almost done. I've been editing it, I have a few slides to add to the PowerPoint presentation. I'd like to start a new MLB franchise that could be very lucrative and interesting, drawing in a new demographic -- a more educated and affluent one. Major League Baseball in Museums. Baseball teams play the Louvre, for instance. The Louvre is huge! The museums could even have their own teams. Imagine, "The Louvre Smashers" -- or "The Hermitage Annihilators", or even, "Smithsonian Institution Shamblers". This could take off. Don't worry about the darn art! It's been getting hit and kicked for years. Most of the stuff is made out of stone and metal. And behind bullet proof glass.

We've entered a new era -- where every world class museum is now safe enough to play baseball in!

The NSA

The NSA burned down Bob's shed. The NSA slapped a kid and took his lunch money, and laughed. The NSA defiled graves, and insulted the groundskeepers at the non denominational cemetery. The NSA crank called Mrs. Ferlahey, who can't see that good, and she has a bad hip. The NSA made Bobby cry. The NSA hit Joanne. The NSA ran through a red light at noon on Cedar Street. The NSA bit Cory, and stole a Christmas tree from the Elks. The NSA got up late and was interested in robbing banks. The NSA threw away recyclable cans, and shot a BB gun in the air.


-----

Written down in a Secret Undisclosed Location
Far from the Prying Eyes of the Internet

dream if bashō 26

dream if bashō
feeling carefully
in mist with
a bendy stick
you see wet
cold ground
trees like trees



--

dream if bashō 25

dream if bashō
before a roaring
stream
things seized torn
churned into it
the water placid
at the edge





--

Wiki-Stub for the Game 'Valley of the Minotaur'

I see that someone has added a stub on Wikipedia for a game I helped co-create way back in the early 1980s -- 'Valley of the Minotaur'. LOL. My friend Nick Van Dyke was a budding programmer, he coded and designed it -- and I provided the map, content, descriptions, and many of the central characters and plot for the text-based game. To Nick's credit, he was a brilliant developer -- he had already created several games using a TSR-80 -- one was a turn based Star-Trek combat simulator which had a Romulan bird-of-prey that could cloak and de-cloak when it attacked!

Later, we collaborated on a second text based adventure project, 'Return to the Valley of the Minotaur', which was finished, but not published.

The writing and concepts were heavily influenced by popular text based exploration games of the day, including 'Microsoft's Adventure', 'Zork I' and 'II', as well as the maps from 'Wizardry'. There are many mythological influences, too -- I was reading Greek Mythology widely at the time. The minotaur 'boss' character came from a creative writing short-story, called 'Revenge of the Minotaur' I had submitted to one of my teachers in English. Other influences were Dungeons & Dragons, and some of the props from Dr. Who -- the Telephone booth in the game VoTM is a reflection of the Tardis.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valley_of_the_Minotaur

Nick and I had a great time making this game. I added to the article -- we'll see how it holds up. I might even have some of the hand written maps and descriptions in my files. I'll have to look and post them.

***

Update 6.27.14

I have the game -- my dad saved it and my mom found it. Thanks dad, thanks mom. New post with artwork.

dream if bashō 24

dream if bashō
is unafraid of a
red moon or
uncounted fields
that seem to hide
threats or
lonely sentinels






-

dream if bashō 23

dream if bashō
by an old hut
stands stock still
before a trembling
leaf and
blossoming
orchard




.

dream if bashō 22

dream if bashō
appearing so solidly

in a virgin field

of new fallen snow

his feet and yours

making tracks

that later will be gone

 

 

x

dream if bashō 21

dream if bashō
motions to the trickling
water so you see
how quickly
it races headlong
down into dust
to become mud




,

dream if bashō 20

dream if bashō
seemingly lost
in unfriendly country
finds undeniable joy
in unknowing
with feet to walk
and a place to be wandering




..

dream if bashō 19

dream if bashō
under the stars
bows to the earth
bows to you
bugs
in the weeds
going to and fro




*

dream if bashō 18

dream if bashō
is mistaken by you
as anything
like a thunderclap
or a ghost
or mud or lice
or even as bashō




_

dream if bashō 17

dream if bashō
sees the woes of
a robber
or the rage
of an innkeeper
blossoms shaken
loose rain down



:
.
_

dream if bashō 16

dream if bashō
regards two giddy
little sparrows
being watched
by a cat
chirping busy
no idea of peril




"

dream if bashō 15

dream if bashō
under an ominous
sky sways
but is upright still
then shifts the load
adjusts sandal strap
and goes on




--

dream if bashō 14

dream if bashō
holds a lantern
holds it up then
dips it down
imitating
but never truly
ever a firefly



*

Halloween 2013

Scoundrels Turned into Saviors

On reason I follow Buddha, or Buddhist teaching, is because it preaches total loving-kindness where ultimately nothing is wasted or rejected.  It even goes to say that Devadatta, one of Buddha's greatest opponents -- a betrayer, slanderer, and attempted murderer of Buddha, would not be left defeated, but rather be turned into a Buddha in a future lifetime, because of opposition and connection to the Buddha. It would be like saying in Christianity, that Judas, betrayer of Christ, would be a future Christ because of his connection to Christ and what was said and done for Christ. All renewed, scoundrels turned into Saviors.

153. In his wanderings throughout beginning less time, the fool is wrapped up in his grasping existence. As a wedge is driven out by another wedge, so the fool is led gradually into abandoning it.

    Lankavatära Sutra
    90 - 96

dream if bashō 13

dream if bashō
stepping in cremation
ashes and bone
regards the remains
like cherry blossoms
or new fallen
snow



.

手にとらば消ん / 涙ぞ熱き / 秋の霜

Poem - O

1 buddha meets 1 buddha
without comment

 

O

 

1 being meets 1 being
endlessly



--

"Stop, stop! Do not speak. The ultimate truth is not even to think."

Amban
Cheng Ch'ing-Chih
49. The Gateless Gate

 

 

Poem - it rained / all day

it rained
like grey hair
all day while
i was growing
claws

----


San Francisco
1991

dream if bashō 12

dream if bashō
cannot be found and you
feel abandoned
but when you are sure
your story has no 'back' or 'towards'
you have found home
you have found bashō




.

dream if bashō 11

dream if bashō
dances and jokes
at the edge of a cliff
while laughing
so hard his hat
falls off then sits down
with a thump



>

dream if bashō 10

dream if bashō
peers through gloom
of a moody inn
you see now
layers of smoke
and opinions
as empty as they are




----

Poem - Far Away

never late
never early

this iron cold
water
on my face

no roof to hide
discomfort

brightness
a smile
that never goes away

-----

tsuyu toku toku / kokoromi ni ukiyo / susugabaya

dream if bashō 9

dream if bashō
looking into the fire
sees in the hot coals
cities and towns
and all people
even you there
sleeping in confusion



-----

gu ni kuraku / ibara o tsukamu / hotaru kana

Poem - Noon

dreams of worriers
fade away into the haze

buzzing insects

only problem remains
being the traveler

accepting this undeniable
harsh solitary beauty


----

Nowhere
Noon

dream if bashō 8

dream if bashō
and you are staying
on a dark night
in an abandoned haunted
cemetery
all grief and plans
are buried there



\

Aki no kaze/ Ise no hakahara/ nao sugoshi

Poem - Observation after Walking a Long Time and Being Aware of Being Alone

bashō isn't it funny

you expect to die on the road
or get arrested or murdered

but often you only get lonely
then sense a quiet guilt

you'd rather be something




-----

Nowhere with Hills
Oct 2013

Poem - Noted on the Way to Over 6 Hills or More

a shingle stuck in the earth
on the side of the road

coated in mud with a child's
writing in pencil still legible

'I WEL NVR FGT YU'
'RIP SNWY'

a dog's grave
far from his home



-----

At the foot of a climbing road
alone by an abandoned corner
Oct 2013

dream if bashō 7

dream if bashō
admiring the glitter
of a dewy spider's web
motions to you to look
look look because
he is in there and
you too



x

dream if bashō 6

dream if bashō
feeling sick and you ill
adjusts his wide hat
resting at the crook
of a zig zagged trail
sees the full moon is
yellow and chuckles



"

“The moon is brighter since the barn burned”

Poem - Written on Leaving a Small Rural Town

clean blue sky
they throw a stone at me

i am not bashō
but neither was bashō
bashō


----

Outside of Town
Nowhere
Oct 2013

Poem – Written on the Occasion of Being Shaded by a Hedge

bashō slept here
rumpled grass

bashō walked here
footprints  in dust

all proof and things
gone later

as lasting as grass
or dust



*


Nowhere
Afternoon, Oct 2013

Poem - Written on the Side of the Trail

if you want to go with bashō
you can go with bashō




.

On the road past a glowing field
Mid-Morning
Oct 2013

dream if bashō 5

dream if bashō
finding home in nowhere
leads you so nicely
through deep forests
and up tall passes
the sun peeping
happy on everything




'

dream if bashō 4

dream if bashō
in the company
of robber's questions
dispels their fears
with tranquility
and points to where
you can sit




^

dream if bashō 3

dream if bashō
holds still in a gust
that shoots snowflakes
around like crazy wheels
but he is not
blinded by the display
nor distracted




*

iza saraba / yukimi ni korobu / tokoromade

dream if bashō 2

dream if bashō
in a boat at predawn
leans down and touches
the surface of a
black lake and you
in the back of the boat
and cold but amazed
seeing this ripple



- -

Poem - you don't say goodbye

you don't say goodbye
you say hello next time you see someone

never angry or afraid
open to living with things as they are

it is a dream
with real day implications

so pick up the pail
go to the top of the hill and come back down



------

dream if bashō

dream if bashō
ahead on the right
with a paper lantern
looks down the path
that twists and rises
smiles between drops
of rain



.
.

Poem - Fall

i remember

my son
found a red leaf

he gave it to me
and we took it

later I found
the leaf

in my truck

more precious
than a bar of gold


----

oct 2013

Shattering

A great huge gust of wind blows. I see a crow flying up high in the sky, almost recklessly. It is almost as sense of shattering -- but I know I do not understand these things. The crow is fine.

I think about Chung Tzu, or Lao Tzu.

-----

quail meadow
2013

Poem - I get to decide/ how long I want to cry

I get to decide
how long I want to cry

I get to decide
how long I want to be feeling happy

I decide
who I am, and if it is good or bad

I decide
what I want to do, busy or not

I am free to
see what I see, know what I know, talk how I talk, go where I go

I get to get ready
for Life, and then do it

I get to meet new people
experience them, and love the ones that are here

I get to do this every new day
and every day is new


-----

La la
:-)

Poem - rain forecast for jupiter this afternoon

diamond iceberg station
rain forecast for jupiter this afternoon
calls for diamond hail

please wear ballistic suits

a reminder:
persons on the surface are prohibited
from collecting jovian diamonds

this will ruin
the earth's economy



.

Poem - say hello nicely/ and goodbye

get a fish
feed it

buy a ball
kick it

learn a tune
sing it

go up the hill
then down

say hello nicely
and goodbye


---

Quail Meadow
Irvine
2013

Poem - Illusions

life goes on
and it isn't so bad

my illusions falling
i thought i was

a pirate
or a general
or a lover
or a hero
or a writer

  i close my eyes
  travel through space

  my shower
  is in the amazon

  my bedroom
  is under the sea

then a truck could
go by
reminds me there is
none of this

every image
and thought i have
like a bubble

but still

  i close my eyes
  travel through space

  my shower
  is in the amazon

  my bedroom
  is under the sea

Poem - Three Bits

a man
plays when
he his a fool

and prays
when he
is empty

but he is
neither man
nor fool

*

the projection
here has no
answers

but in virtue
it appearing
existent solid

and in fact
it is expression
of radiance

the projection
has no answers

*

anger
moody doubt

a wet book
afternoon rain

happy
contented faith

a wet book
afternoon rain



.

Poem Dedicated to the NSA: Spies Need Secrets to Find

if surveillance were 100%
and we could not move an inch without being observed

if they could read our brain waves
and every kind of thought without killing us

it would be like the house of mirrors
swallowing itself into itself into itself into itself

it shows that to be spied on
the 'powers that be' must leave us some space to be secret

so they can have something to spy on


-----

Dedicated to the NSA
October 2013

Poem - a presons's private/ metronome

garbage rattles
musically

as the freeway
coasts along

rhythmic tapping
on a dumpster

a person's private
metronome


*


müll rasseln
musikalisch

wie der autobahn
küsten entlang

rhythmische klopfen
auf einem müllcontainer

eine person privaten
metronome


------

Quail Meadow
October 2013

Poem - in the nocturnal reality of life/ sunrise at kettleman city

everyone was young and transparent
and someone wore a cream colored suit
like ice cream and the girls
had poofy hair and tight dresses with stripes

we would be kings and queens of industry
in a miami vice themed dream

then almost 30 years have gone by
loaded with meaning and getting heavier
at times a black oil truck driving at midnight
between LA and SF

i see in the cab is the driver with no complaints
in the nocturnal reality of life

sunrise at kettleman city



.

Poem - except the stars as a nice pillow / and the moon as a blanket

he said we could find a pureland or
a holy vision of the highest
in vegas
and damn he's right
mahasiddhas everywhere even the crows
calling out all day fighting for food
i hear them cawing out crow mantra
as the big guys walk by
without even a place to sleep tonight
except the stars as a nice pillow
and the moon as a blanket


---

for Latif

Poem - i'm in the right place

i'm in the right place
where leaf blowers sound like opera arias
sung by angels

where captain kirk
looks like st francis of assisi
and is a congressman

where fear just lost status
as essential and now

we all have lots of yummy
gumdrops in our pockets

----

Quail Meadow
Oct 03 2013

Poem - Tree Trimming in Laguna Beach / Élagage des Arbres à Laguna

parts taken out of the tree
one limb missing i found to be
lyrical and intriguing the way  it grew
i was going to hand it a piece of art there
under it's crook for delicate shelter

i remind myself trees do not have feelings
nor do they have blood
the sap flowed like yellow blood
to the sidewalk
the poet imagines strange things


pièces prises sur l'arbre
un membre manquant j'ai trouvé pour être
lyrique et intrigant de la façon dont elle a grandi
je m'apprêtais à remettre une œuvre d'art il
sous sa houlette pour s'abriter delicate

je me rappeler les arbres n'ont pas de sentiments
et ils n'ont pas le sang
la sève a coulé comme le jaune de sang
sur le trottoir
le poète imaginer des choses étranges


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october 2
2013