Tathagata

Thus come, thus gone,
What is between?
Nothing obtained.

Thus come, Thus gone,
How many times?
Never lived it.

Cricket chirps in night; existing.

Thus come, thus gone,
Did you see who?
Nobody there.

Thus come, thus gone,
Why do you say?
Never named it.

Rain showers over grass; nature.

Thus come, thus gone,
When is it so?
Not serious.

Thus come, thus gone,
Will it return?
Never dreamed it.

Cup of green tea brewing; emptied.

Nothing obtained, never lived it,
Nobody there, never named it,
Not serious, never dreamed it.

Thus come, thus gone; Tathagata.

Backstage

A change of form, different colored
Clothes and thrift store masks, creation
And re-creation. Do we weep with the changing
Leaves, do we lament when they fall
To give life to the earth? Understand the everlasting
Principal, to have no attachment eating your drumsticks,
A best friend dead and you’re swatting at flies, when
People starve in silent African lands and people blown
By the falling of a silent bomb, understanding a change
Of form, nothing dies but concepts. It is selfish to ask
Monotony, it all stays the same but never in front of our
Eyes. It’s just a change of form, from the wardrobe
Of the seasons, it’s creation and re-creation.
When children become the teachers, when grandparents
Complain it’s not how it used to be, they don’t
Really see that it’s always been the same, in and
Throughout all things, the undying principal eternal
Makes puppets and divine plays for itself, poor
Become beggars, rich become presidents, a swan stays
In the pond, a chicken is caged and slaughtered,
A murderer is euthanized, a child is diseased. We build
Monuments out of fallen forests to glorify
Fallen heroes, yet never glorify this fallen moment. We
Are creating and we are re-creating. The self
Hums to itself, the self knows only One Self.

I AM THE SUN

I AM THE NEVER SETTING NOW,
I AM THE SILENCE STANDING THE HORIZON,
I AM THE ALL PIERCING RAY OF AWARNESS,
I AM THE THOUGHT UNLIMITED ALWAYS NEAR,
I AM THE DAWN AND DUSK IN EVERY BREATH,
I AM THE BURNING FUSION OF SELF REALIZATION,
I AM THE SOURCE, I AM THE SPARK, I AM.

Ablaze

I search the freezer with mind, Sweat bubbling
On the tips of baby hairs, air sweltering and stagnant,
The wind cures embers, pavement black, flesh
Buckets burned, evaporation wounds, mind
The freezer found, Opened to let the cold condense into a thick
White rolling fog, a crisp plastic bag frozen
With soy, let the rambling blood cease, the snow
Flake door with suction
Magnetized, sealed to skin on my shoulder stung with
Ice, tap-water white, medicinal and potent, Dropped
In a chasm at poles, snapping dynamics, dry,
Compressed, conditioned, at the moment I have
No unit, ablaze with chills.


To Peel a Banana

An elongated elation
Banana with a crunch in whole grain cereal
Banana as a quick pick me up of insulin
A cramp defender packed with potassium
Sweet and salty with Peanut butter protein
A tropical climate brought
A peel, a peel, a peel
Banana mashed in cooked oats
Banana sliced to company fellow fruits
Over ripped bruised to blend, bake, and rise
A secret banana in pocket
A locket for taste to remember
The taste of tropics which the eye never sees
A bite of hard shelled green boomerangs
Antiperspirant on the palate
Banana splits into three
A fleshy Tri-chotomy
I’ve held finger sized bananas
Bananas in yellow bunches
Thai fried in coconut batter
To peel a banana is a process
Begun with a seed
In the ever equatorial sun leafed jungles
Bananas are regional
Yet the stomach draws no borders

Angles or Demons

Angels or demons,
Can’t we just be?
Look at paws
To see a part of me
Dissected.
Who can I see,
Reflected,
With a veil
Shading?

Adding to the list
Of limitations,
Charting the path
To imprisonment.
Where is the problem
In letting things be?
All things be or else
They wouldn’t be.

Isness I AM.
This business
Of boxing
Squares
Leaves no room
For circles.

Entities from One,
That never defines
Should and Shouldn’t,
None be evil,
None be good.
Man sets his
Standard
To stay in suffering.

As all is divine,
In the thought
Is where we
Confine
Connection.
Dismissing selves
Miss the path,
Of no path
But being bliss.

A Birth to Night

I recognize my God,
To not employ faith
Anymore. The reflecting saw
How to accept the vain
In a leaf as its own.
I drawl my inherited
Claim. Sleep no more
Takes me with outstretched arms
Pleading to let a dream
Rest at the wake. I bless
A transition into the right
Light of thought, to kiss
A dimension of twinkling
Dirt and blackened root. A mess
As birth smiles.

The Last Asking

She called me again with wanting

Stinking on her breath, this time
Was the last time, I was asleep
Until the dream desired more,

I am angered
That she only sees me

As a tool and banker, I still give
Her time, a Friendship pulls
Buckets until the well of response

Runs dry, once more I have

To give out of sweeping love
To hollow my heart larger

To know there is
Enough.

As It Is

Flowering
To connectivity takes petal
To petal, an expanding
Of chest, a breath
Of giving, being all
In a body emerging without
Suckling, another breath

Of giving, reading the world
As an autobiography
Of a seed, cycles of yourself
As a creator and gardener,
With moments

To fertilize, and one plant
To care for, our earth
Is round, our bodies
Are round, our spirits circle
Enslaved neurons, life dies
As we see it, immortal
As we live it.

See, Answer.

How many births, how many
Deaths must I see before me,
Before I will see, as stillness,
I count time in numbers before
The Roman Christus calendar,
How many risings, how many
Settings, look up but to see the orange
Fettered cloud whitening, one
Before, one behind – grey
And curved for darkness,
A shimmer of one more
Gone, a reflection of past again,
So I say how many until I
Weather, loosing grip willingly,
To the core of my eye where
I will see,
A day in perspective,
Elephant, mosquito and
A turning away and to,
A revolution not counted
By them, yet number to us,
What are the additions for, when
We can multiply the living
Of a second and get the same enduring
Answer.