Poem - when i first saw you in the room next door

i

when i first saw you in the room next door
i noticed you looked exactly like the picture i kept seeing of you

as you sat on the small bed i almost was afraid
you were a hologram or dream that would vanish if i made a noise

i wondered if someone was in there -- in you or me
if i was a hologram or a dream that would vanish if you made a noise

i wondered if i would look like a picture of me
if you kept seeing it over and over again in the next room

ii

i gave you a small rock and said
it was a wish fulfilling jewel

a stone of pure dharmakaya
that though ordinary in appearance

was an expression of infinite
purity beyond all compare

you smiled



--- - --


8.23.15

for Bhakha Tulku Rinpoche

Poem - in the room looking at you smiling

moving through the unavoidable tears
we end up at a party surrounded by wonderful balloons

the table is set and all we have to do is enjoy
not go down the back stairs to the sticky payphone
and ask to get picked up and dragged back into the night
that will never be knowable and ever end

thus i steady on the path
not cocky nor afraid but my eyes to here
in the room looking at you smiling

*

Poem - on a martian autumn day / we will play cards

on a martian autumn day
we will play cards

and see how the garden
is doing the trees

imitating the waves of
amber from earth

we will talk about
how the travel has changed us

being reborn through
the long dark journey

before us we look
into the belts of jupiter

we look to the next
star with where to go



*

Poem - her name is kuntozangmo / the primeval mother

i met the source
of all time and space

her name is kuntozangmo
the primeval mother

she looked like pamela anderson
and

as she talked

her body would flow in and out
of her own mouth

she reclined on a nice couch
i sat by her

she smiled at me
with some fine wrinkles around her eyes

she showed me
how nothing external has any fixed characteristics

by demonstrating a host of objects
places and things dissolving and changing at great speed
in the sky above us like they were fireworks almost or splendid illusions

i said but people have fixed
characteristics

she said no they don't
even people have no fixed characteristics

she smiled sweetly
and i felt better


___



for Jñana

Poem - how would i like it to be

we are not required to be kind
or be present to one another

there is no penalty
other than what i deny to you

will be scarcely
rendered to me when i ask

starvation is my curse
for not giving sustenance
when i had it

faithlessness is my lot
when i did not encourage
as others wavered

aimlessness is my path
when i decided to wait
on the way

inescapable fact
there was never a time
i could not give

it only takes effort
to love or hate

how would i like it to be



*

Poem - all i have to do / is to look for it

if my heart is as small
i will cry and i will lament

i will find things
causes and conditions

i have done this

i said i live in a ruin
or a joke or a void

i said tomorrow
will be a better day

when all true purity

is only in now
right now

i put my glasses on backwards
and decided i was broken

i did this to me

you have nothing
to do with it

*

i have the key
the solution

to leave misery

it is in my mind
it is in your
mind too

all i have to do
is to look for it

and not stop



---

for e

Poem - i need a frame for your picture

i need a frame for your picture

the portrait it is here on the blanket

that covers part of my desk

red and white stripes 

a rustic fabric

like the zen you wore 

when i met you and had no idea

anything could ever 

separate us

*

For Tesdrup Tharchin

Poem - i face the ocean always on the ocean's terms

i face the ocean always on the ocean's terms
the sea's mood is automatically mine

standing on the sand at lowest tide
before whole day has arisen

looking back the beach rises sharply

i can see just the tops of the houses
mansion and structures the sea will erase

there is no staying here how hard
or for how long you swear you'd like



8


Station 12
Sunset Beach
July 2015

Poem - by those liberated from fury

in deference if i meet you in a dream
i solemnly acknowledge you
awake i pretend i do not worry
or even think how precious you are

this is what i have been taught
by proper cowards

by those consumed by loss

*

change and the arising is constant
of a consciousness that challenges
the dread monotony of assumptions
where even selfish fear has no hold

this is what i have been taught
by proper teachers

by those liberated from fury




--

July 14 2015

Poem - on the second floor of a rambling victorian house - this means we are family

i had a dream i was sleeping
on the second floor of a rambling victorian house
that was painted white inside with brown carpet

it was gracefully falling apart
due to age and use
the rooms were bright and bare
with the expected scrollwork and wood details
smothered under many layers of paint as to hint
on how crisp the lines of sleeping shells and pearls
and other rambunctious seagifts clustered around ceiling
say where a gas jet chandelier used to hang
yellow gaslight through frosted cups long gone

the dream beds were made of bread
that had just been baked so i poked a hole
in the center of the mattress to get comfortable
and I lay down under a comforter

I looked at the second floor of the house
which creaked from time to time
as the creatures that lived there moved about
half book and half salmon emanations
who had their own culture
and shiny supple sayings

as I thought this one came upstairs and saw me
did a double-take asked who i was
i said we were in a dream and i was part of it
so the creature exclaimed good, as odd as that is
this means we are family


*

Poem - i'm only angry if i think i'm someone

i'm only angry if i think i'm someone
who had something to be angry about
and it was happening for real
in a dream
and i was the center of attention in the dream
and whatever happened was important
like a prize of a hundred singing harmonica fish


*

for Eeek

Poem - i can sometimes watch people

i can sometimes watch people
moving to and fro
over the scenery like patterns
colorful and gliding along
charming
or like leaves suspended in water
or even fish in a tank
or just quirky emanations
like sparks from a stone
or another mythic caesura


*

for Eeek

Poem - everything is full

everything is full
with no room
or just a bit of room
for anything new

but for a few things
please no more
of a day that is sad
or ideas of nobody

we don't need
space for end of
or gonna or was
never or could


[

Poem - they carved out / this place that we fly in and out of

the water mirrored the sky
indirectly it influenced every mood

when i cross the bridge
i look for the stumps of the landing

it is long gone
but it is where orange county began

back bay
keeps telling me the story

of spanish pirates
and the schooners of lumber

missionaries
and farmers and banditos

the dying
cattle and zealots

they carved out
this place that we fly in and out of


**

Back Bay
Just Before Summer
Orange County CA

Poem - you get close / like a light (it plays / on my mind)

you get close
like a light

then recede
without touching anything

just like a
lost boat or plane

that decides
not to make landing

enveloped
in darkness and doubt

choosing
nothing over certainty


*

it plays
on my mind


***

6.8.15
HB

A Poem for Ruben: or cry much over this but i have

“And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.”
― Pablo Neruda



i never expected to find out you were dead
i expected to hear you were a christian pastor
who played rock n roll in his own church
in tie dye and hippy graciousness

then

i expected you to be old and have 15 grand kids
27 great grand kids while you never slowed down
with a guitar in one hand and a book in the other

long snow white hair and bald on top
knowing cezanne, miro, randy rhoads, and queen

you

would always be here as long as i was
not here in the rooms i occupy but spicing up life
for those around you who were lucky enough to know you

when

i saw your last picture you had that same smile
and a fire in your eyes like it would never end
the world and the universe and all of us in it too

but

there is no end nor beginning nor middle nor
any point whatsoever as one turns towards omega point
and we will all be united past all cares

yet

knowing all this i miss you dearly
our time is so short so fleeting
you would forbid me to be angry

or cry much over this but i have
the final gift in memory now a smile


-------

For Ruben Lovato, Jr.

Poem - i had a dream about being high up on a terrace

i had a dream about being high up on a terrace
looking over a long blue plain
where the clouds scattered over it
like they did in barbados
over the sugarcane feilds

you were not there but everywhere
in the sky and in the chair
and the table i looked over
in the dream lunch remains
i had eaten

then i forgot you existed
and kept looking at the clouds
how they sent shadows down
the darkness wedded
with the light green
on the earth



*

Poem - he put a poem on twitter

he put a poem on twitter
it ran away like a little animal
and had fun

\

Poem - in little gilded cages

i was very excited to read they were making
small suns out of onions

i looked a bit closer and it seems they are not
making small suns out of onions

but now i think why shouldn't we figure out how
so this next winter

everyone will have a few suns at home probably
in little gilded cages


5.14.15

Poem - and the grass has grown a mile high it seems

i had a dream
that suggested i be sanely useful in this life

like clear water is
for thirst or food for an empty stomach

but i am easily angered
or my attitude is completed baffling

on one hand i am generous
then a few seconds later i am irritable and selfish

then i realize
wrangling with any idea of attitude is unworkable

because attitude is a construct
working or not working with it is a construct

a construct is a construct
only by letting go can i let go of anything


then inevitably things are simpler
and the grass has grown a mile high it seems




 to Jñana