Monday, October 16, 2006

Lucky #7

The cure for cancer's
around the corner
Life'll be great
and a century longer.

When you crossover
from this physical state
God'll meet you
at the pearly gate.

Fulfillment for every need
Reward for every deed
Patience people, patience indeed!
Follow the shephard or take the lead.

Just a step more
one chore more
Just a test more
one high score more

Things'll be better than before!

Just have faith
in Lucky #7.

Desire' s desire.
To be filled another day
But while we're on the way
Bend down on a knee and pray.

Have faith you'll get things your way!

Is that the ultimate plan
the ultimate promise or really the ruse?
Someday they'll open or bar the promised land
depending on what prophet you choose.

I'll take door number four!
Oh crap--it says I must live poor.
Should've remembered the path to health and heaven
Is always behind Lucky #7

Or how about six meals a day?
No smoking, drinking or acting badly
Yearly screenings and weird proddings
Or filling prescriptions madly

but sadly

Gotta wait til tomorrow to live forever.
Or pray that tomorrow you will live forever
Either here or there
somewhere there's a ticket to forever.

Every desire fullfilled
around the riverbend
Vestial virgins, sweet excursion,
delectable diversions

what's bad'll be good
if you act as you should

On this religion and science
completely agree.
Praise the blessed unity!
Of lucky #7

It Falls Away

I say this skin is mine.
What was it yesterday but a thought,
an impulse, that makes the flesh
restore itself?

Tomorrow, cells shall dry
and wither and rub off
what I call me.
Yet I will remain
for now.

Hair grows the length of a year
and roots show darker than the summer.
In spring, emmerging from the winter's cold,
I shall own hair long or short,
less or more, but different than
when summer ended.

Yet am I not me, still?
Do I remain still?

Nails and polish, teeth and gums
nose hairs, armpit fuzz
skin and stubble and eyelashes
found on the floor and in the bed.
Discarded without conscious effort.
Am I the food for bed bugs and roaches?
Have I left myself there,
and there and over there?

And what of my limbs more crooked with age?
What of those teeth and hairs?
What of my toes and fingers?
If tomorrow they fall away
Does that being I call "me" remain?

And of the senses that fade
Which one has to go to carry me with it?
My sight, my hearing?
Smell, touch, or taste?
Or that pulsing brain
that factory of reactions
that fades and forgets--
when does it stop holding the key
of "me"

What cell
What fiber
what mineral
what spark
contains the essence
that heralds -- I am?

I am
It falls away.
I was
falls away.

The possessions
The riches
The body
The mind
fall away.

It all falls away.
The ability to discern
some attributes
that make up
what I think of as "me"
ah! those things leave "me"
as a hollowed husk
of dried flesh.

So it is.
So then...
when is the definition
ever complete and true?

If I cast off the possessions,
the riches, the body and the mind
as I would effortlessly
let fall away the remnants of yesterday's
skin and hair
without the mind's thoughts
or hopes or fears
on the loss of "me"
what would be left
beyond the defining
and the undefining?

The omnipotent
of all
of nothing
beyond the essence
of the inessential
beyond what was or never was
or is or never is
or will be or never will be

Monday, October 09, 2006

The Uninviting Guest

She uninvited me
to my parent's home
One year ago
when the phone

I sit here
thinking about
the pain and hurt
even the tiniest thought
of it
provides me

She hates me
I think
She wants to hurt me
I think
Have I offended
I worry
Did I deserve it
I fear

Mother says
it was mean
Dad keeps quiet
I rack my brain
trying to think
what I did
to feel this hurt

A year
Yet today
I sit
And a year
ago is a long time

Looking inside
I see my library
and I ask myself
what book shall I choose
Pain and Hurt?

I leave those books
on the shelf
and go outside
as I look in

I go to the stream
as Ananda did
in the years
of Buddha

I gaze
I watch
The dust settles
and the stream
is clear.

I sit beside
my mind

A year ago
is dead to me
and I hold a hurt
that has no merit
for I look for
something in another
that I must find
yet again
in myself.

Today the Uninviting Guest
becomes a precious jewel
Would I make of
a blessed soul, a monster?
Then I disillusion myself
Perhaps she is laughing
and giving love
at this very moment
To someone.
And she has given me
a blessed gift
a precious lesson.

All is within
this moment

Find the center
and calmness
and where I am uninvited
is only as lonely
as the Mind.
My Heart
is open
and full.

This I have learned.

Friday, October 06, 2006


Get outta my house!

I told you
don't go near that tree
impudent punks
lacking humility

pack your bags
hit the highway
no heaven here
you didn't do it my way

you hate my gifts
Yeah -you cover your flesh
with figs and branches
you look like a big mess!

you aren't my son
you aren't my daughter
may the devil take you
like a lamb to slaughter

get out of my house
get out of my kingdom come
you disobeyed me
impudent scum

I told you not to
but you did it anyway
saw you do it
as clear as day

so grab your free will
and your apple yummy
hope you choke on it
and it hurts your tummy

you climbed a tree
ate the fruit

you aren't my son
you aren't my daughter
may the devil take you
like a lamb to slaughter

dont you cry
dont your weep
you aint my children
go suffer on the street

here's your stuff
little good it will do
pick it up from the mud
and take the snake with you.

dont you come knocking
and begging back in the door
idiot and whore
you dont live in
my kingdom come

they only cause trouble
better off
without them
their disobedience, so unloveable.