Trying to catch a thought to write it down,
despite years of serious effort, seems
sometimes, so pointless; and though I may clown
and gambol with these words that come like dreams

I realize they are not concrete things.
Perhaps they represent solid matter,
for deep within their core, a stillness sings;
more likely they are meaningless chatter.

True, it is my sense of self that draws
them here; they have no motive of their own,
nor need to fling themselves, cackling jackdaws
picking at the marrow of the soul's bone.

In fact, these words may not at all exist,
except to provide shadows in a mist.

30 JUN 2003

For some reason, perhaps that I've been thinking lately about the Dalai Lama and other assorted ocher, saffron and maroon robed individuals, I thought of this poem today. I wrote it in a fit of inspiration at a Poetry reading following my attendance at the performance and sand mandala destruction/dissemination/distribution of some visiting monks from the Trepung monastery.

Not to imply that you don't, she said,
care about "Poetry";
to which i replied, you're right,
it's not the "Poetry" that means anything,
but the life that leads to it -

like an orange,
which could be a
mandarin, tangerine, tangelo, color, mood, or aura;
like an orange,
which in its microcosmic sense, is a
bumpy circle which meets in a navel and finds its way back 'round again;
like an orange,
which can suffer greatly from an early frost;
like an orange,
which often bruises in its fall from the tree;
like an orange,
which hides its sweet and tender meat tucked safe inside a bitter shell;
like an orange,
which lets itself be squeezed, its juice drained off and bottled up;
like an orange,
which blends its anger red and hot with the warmth and mellow glow of sunshine;
like orange,
which in flame, is where the black and white lights meet;
like an orange,
which could represent the antithesis of the apple,
that some say Eve found quite appealing.

The orange represents
passion,intuition, gut reaction, first impression, and life
The apple represents
bookish learning, knowledge, logic, bribery, and ultimately death.

Not to say you don't, i think,
care about the power of life and living,
but, to spend time over books comparing fruits and "Poetry"
means no growth for the poem's seed.

It's a metaphor for life, i want to say to you:

There's no orange for the teacher;
moms don't produce orange pies.
There's no worm inside the orange,
and no orange of my eye.

In the East the holy man wears orange
and in fact, it's true -
the sound sung by the universe
is orange in its hue.

APR 1994

True happiness, we are told, consists in getting out of one's self, but the point is not only to get out - you've got to stay out; and to stay out you must have some absorbing errand. -- Henry James

If you would seek the truth, you must be willing
to seek beyond the questions, simple facts,
leave behind stale conceptions, and stand naked,
alone, aware of just this very moment.

Happiness is not based upon others,
it cannot be a shield against the world;
there is a thing that is, it is not other,
and holding it cannot keep it from harm.

We seek some common ground, yet it eludes us
because to seek it there, beyond our selves is vain;
there is no method, guru, or sure teaching,
for truth is found in its own pathless land.

Why suffering, and pain, and disappointment?
Why good and evil, thought of loss or gain?
Because to just exist seems too complacent,
because we like to think we must have plans.

But the universe does not give much attention
to us, in the grand scheme of every day;
We are like flowers, or the breeze, so fragile,
and here, then gone, in but a moment's play.

The human situation? It reflects us,
each thought that seeks to raise our selves above
the simple, infinite way of creation -
energy released, gathered again.

When the observer and the observation
Cease their illusive separate planes and merge
There is no cause and no effect to ponder;
If you want to find what's sacred, get out of the way.

27 JUN 2003

How does one, not having enlightenment (or grace or whatever you like to call it) recognize that someone else is enlightened? How does someone without the benefit of having seen Nirvana (or the face of God or the underlying principle of the universe whatever you like to call it) know that someone else HAS seen it? How does someone who has never seen Niagara Falls understand the description given by someone who has seen it, has felt the spray of the mist, heard the roar of the tumulting waters?

Is it any wonder that a prophet is never accepted in their home town?

The guru appears when the student is ready,
at other times, they pass by un-noticed;
only when the thirst for truth is steady
can one drink from the cup of the lotus.

Because to discern the saint from fool
one must be open to the options
beyond lessons, wisdom and rules;
one becomes a student by adoption -

recognizing the whole behind the parts,
looking past the illusion of knowing;
there is where the guru's work starts,
tilling soil where seeds already are growing.

Unless you can envision the other shore,
the bridge is but a pier, nothing more.

26 JUN 2003

Take note of this fundamental truth...The creature with its free will can bring nothing into being, nor make any alteration in the working of nature; it can only change its own state or place in the working of nature, and so feel or find something in its state that it did not feel or find before. -- Law, William (1686-1761), English spiritual writer and mystic

If I were a month I would be: January
If I were a day of the week I would be: Monday
If I were a time of day I would be: 3:15 a.m.
If I were a planet I would be: Saturn
If I were a sea animal I would be: a humpback whale
If I were a direction I would be: north
If I were a piece of furniture I would be: a beanbag chair
If I were a sin I would be: pride
If I were a liquid I would be: white tea
If I were a stone, I would be: granite
If I were a bird, I would be: a mockingbird
If I were a tool, I would be: a sledgehammer
If I were a flower/plant, I would be: corn
If I were a kind of weather, I would be: a tornado
If I were a Musical instrument, I would be: a bass viol
If I were an animal, I would be: a badger
If I were a color, I would be: green
If I were an emotion, I would be: optimism
If I were a vegetable, I would be: a pumpkin
If I were a sound, I would be: a breeze in the trees
If I were an element, I would be: iron
If I were a car, I would be: a 1972 Olds Vista Cruiser
If I were a song, I would be: Page 43, David Crosby
If I were a book, I would be written by: Aldous Huxley
If I were a food, I would be: red beans and rice
If I were a place, I would be: Calcutta
If I were a material, I would be: flannel
If I were a taste, I would be: bittersweet
If I were a scent, I would be: patchouli
If I were a word, I would be: evanescence
If I were an object, I would be: a well
If I were a body part I would be: an ear
If I were a facial expression I would be: a smirk
If I were a subject in school I would be: english
If I were a cartoon character I would be: foghorn leghorn
If I were a shape I would be: a circle
If I were a number I would be: 7

23 JUN 2003

Listen ...

Beyond the bustle of the nearby cross-street
Beyond the hum of the pulsing air conditioners
Beyond the rustle of the tree leaves
Beyond the chirping of the birds
Beyond the soft murmur of humming insects
Beyond the gentle rush of your own breath
Beyond the constant throb of thoughts
Beyond the slow growth of the grass
Beyond the hiss of the clouds as they pass
Beyond the turning of the earth ...

Ah, the silence of becoming,
the sound of being!

23 JUN 2003

The difference between the mortified, but still proud and self-centered stoic and the unmortified hedonist consists in this: the latter, being flabby, shiftless and at heart rather ashamed of himself, lacks the energy and the motive to do much harm except to his own body, mind and spirit; the former, because he has all the secondary virtues and looks down on those who are not like himself, is morally equipped to wish and to be able to do harm on the very largest scale and with a perfectly untroubled conscience. These are obvious facts; and yet, in the current religious jargon of our day the word "immoral" is reserved almost exclusively for the carnally self-indulgent. The covetous and the ambitious, the respectable toughs and those who cloak their lust for power and place under the right sort of idealistic cant, are not merely unblamed; they are even held up as models of virtue and godliness. The representatives of the organized churches begin by putting haloes on the heads of the people who do most to make wars and revolutions, then go on, rather plaintively, to wonder why the world should be in such a mess. -- Aldous Huxley, The Perennial Philosophy

What I see is there for every eye;
it does not hide that well, it seems to me -
for although present in a clouded sky,
it is shielded quite ineffectively.

Beyond the veiled illusions it exists
and waits, expectant, 'til we catch a glimpse;
it is both light that hides, and hiding mist,
both door and hinge, both shadow and footprint.

I write about it, yet my mere words fail,
as well you know who see it clear as I;
my loose description does but mark the trail -

a fleeting flash of color passing by.
Sometimes, when we both look, our eyes may meet
and in that instant, the world is complete.

21 JUN 2003

The poet's or the painter's vision of the divine in nature, the worshipper's awareness of a holy presence in the sacrament, symbol or image - these are not entirely subjective. True, such perceptions cannot be had by all perceivers, for knowledge is a function of being; but the thing known is independent of a mode and nature of the knower. What the poet and painter see, and try to record for us, is actually there, waiting to be apprehended by anyone who has the right kind of faculties. -- Aldous Huxley, The Perennial Philosophy

The politics of those whose goal is beyond time are always pacific; it is the idolaters of past and future, of reactionary memory and Utopian dream, who do the persecuting and make wars...The philosophy that rationalizes war and military training is always (whatever the official religion of the politicians and war makers) some wildly unrealistic doctrine of national, racial or ideological idolatry, having, as its inevitable corollaries, the notions of Herrenvolk* and "the lesser breeds without the Law." Aldous Huxley, The Perennial Philosophy

* Translation from German: "Nation of the Masters"

I made reference to the principle of Occam's razor in a post the other day. Here is some additional information on that principle:

Occam's razor is a logical principle attributed to the mediaeval philosopher William of Occam (or Ockham). The principle states that one should not make more assumptions than the minimum needed. This principle is often called the principle of parsimony. It underlies all scientific modelling and theory building. It admonishes us to choose from a set of otherwise equivalent models of a given phenomenon the simplest one. In any given model, Occam's razor helps us to "shave off" those concepts, variables or constructs that are not really needed to explain the phenomenon. By doing that, developing the model will become much easier, and there is less chance of introducing inconsistencies, ambiguities and redundancies. Though the principle may seem rather trivial, it is essential for model building because of what is known as the "underdetermination of theories by data". For a given set of observations or data, there is always an infinite number of possible models explaining those same data. This is because a model normally represents an infinite number of possible cases, of which the observed cases are only a finite subset. The non-observed cases are inferred by postulating general rules covering both actual and potential observations.

Is it any wonder that the world has turned to shit
in the minds of those who find in it no sacred benefit
who think the earth is only temporary living space,
a proving ground for humans on their way to some pure place

I wonder, in this maya that we say is all around
that leads but to delusion what else here we might have found
if thinking that our purpose was to borrow, and not waste
if there would be religions that insist the gods are chaste

and if we thought our energy was best used to renew
perhaps we'd give a second thought to what we say and do
if living for eternity meant staying here and now
and recognizing bullshit serves at both ends of the cow

Nirvana, heaven, paradise - we long for other homes
insisting that our purpose is to overcome our bones
we claim superiority, and yet, we fail to see
that no more than the grass, or ants, we are just energy

This world, they say, is suffering, and should not be embraced
But why embrace another? Is that not a bit two-faced?
I say, love what you have at hand, and it will be your gold
And reinvest your spirit when your temporal portal folds.

18 JUN 2003

There it is again:
That ever so small motion
of a random thought.
It flits through my mind
Like a fragile butterfly:
Melting in the hand,
it leaves only dust
that stains my clumsy fingers,
and then, poof, is gone.
Two small sparks collide,
and from their union, a flame;
What is left to burn?

17 JUN 2003

Did you ever notice that the shortest statements always seem to result in the longest dissertations attempting to explain the "inner truths" of those short statements? Take, for example, the Buddhist Heart Sutra. It is approximately, in its Sanskrit original, 30 lines. I have in front of me a discourse on that short document that takes up 57 pages. Is it any wonder that the world is in such a state? What about the following is that difficult to understand, that one would require a Guru or some other illuminated person to demonstrate it, if one were to apply one's own mind and experience (or maybe, think a little bit beyond those):

Form does not differ from voidness
and void does not differ from form.
Form is voidness and the void is form;
the same is true for feeling, conception, volition and consciousness.

Anyone who has looked at a pitcher of water, noticed that the worthiness of the vessel is made manifest by the amount of empty space inside it, and also observed that empty, or with water inside, the walls pretty much remain the same ... could understand clearly the lack of demarcation between form and void, and that they are intimately and intricately connected.

It's like Christian preaching, if you ask me. If you've got the Book, if you've read the text and thought about it, how many preacher's interpretations and reminders and so on do you really need? If hearing the Word isn't good enough, what good is the Word? I wonder long and often about those who claim to be teachers, of any philosophic persuation. Isn't the point to make yourself dispensable? If your philosophy doesn't speak for itself, it can't be very good. Likewise, if it does speak for itself, why are you still talking?

Ah, but I digress. Only those who are asking the questions will appreciate the answers.
Am I the only one who feels it necessary to shave with Occam's Razor on a regular basis?