I recently acquired
a small digital recorder
for making music
and after I recorded
my toy instruments
and figured the machine out
I finally put the music
on the computer
to hear that I had unintentionally
made the music soft
and since I delight
in mistakes and accidents
which don't hurt
I left my music that way,
a quiet, soft, little music.

We are in space,
aliens, like the rest
of all being.

This art life
which I am living
has no success
and nothing happening
so I get depressed
when I think
I have no life
therefore I will turn it around
and remember
that there is no pressure on me
no need to hustle
no stress
I have absolute artistic freedom
so I'm grateful
to be a nobody artist
so there.

He says that if I'm sad
to write a poem
and if I can't do that
to climb a mountain.

Are there any thoughts
in here to write about
right now?
Sure, there is this thing
about happiness
and how it comes and goes
and never quite lasts,
about how we are miserable
one moment
and smiling the next.

There is only one enormous entrance
to this life of eternity and infinity
and this one door is always open
so I enter it with my eyes and mind
and I see that it is just good old ordinary everything
that I have been looking at
all life long.

There is no silence
in this world of music
the music of noise
and melody

But the mind knows
that at the root
of all this world's forms
is a deep silence

Which I hear
always, through the power
of Buddha-Dharma

Which tells me
that all of this firework
every-which form
is none other than nothing

And my eyes
see the Earth dissolve
into a blankness
which is not happy or sad

So back to the circus
of every-which form
where my computer hums
out of the silence.

After meeting
and eating dinner
with a Tibetan lama
I thought I was saved
but then a bit later
my whole life
collapsed
but it was fun
and I enjoyed
the experience
so I rebuilt my life
by sitting in a chair.

Tired body
from too little sleep
with a dream
of freakish animals
and odd men
so I sit uncomfortably
thinking.

The old way
of ruling the world
obviously failed,
with its history
of war and violence,
so there is a new world leader
who we all know,
and maybe he bugs you,
but you know
all of the leaders
always did bug us,
so I voted for him
and he was George Bush's idea,
so meet the new world leader,
the big giant computer!

The music of the Great Dharani plays in the ether.
As I breathe like a sine wave, the song becomes an essence.
The celestial singers sing a perfect fifth.
Over and over it sings.
Then it changes, to go down through the circle of fifths.
Vocalizing every conceivable note.
Then I come out of my meditation.
The music still plays in the air.

Crushing out
a cigarette
I have thoughts
of ashes
as I look
at the litter pile
of papers
underneath the ashtray
which have
valuable information
scribbled on them.

I am leaving you
this message
on the humming, glowing machine
which says,
"I didn't have the best
of days, today,
but they all have
something good
about them, don't they?
I'll be hearing
from you soon,
maybe?"

A pleasant conversation
with my woman friend
with occasional angry outbursts
from the Buddha who says no
with music always playing
and an old feeling
in the forehead
which I have grown to love
are all aspects
of the conscious mind
with an enormous silence
in the rest of it
that guides me
by not saying anything.

Go to a bookstore
and look at the poetry
to see how many books
by living poets
are for sale.

A heart of bliss
pumping up and down.
Red with a thought.

The grey October day
shows me a tree
outside my window
which holds golden-brown leaves
and towering spires
of white leaves
(or so it seems)
that I have never seen
before
and the left hand
is steady and still
with first and middle fingers
on one side
of my notebook
and the left thumb on top
as the right hand fingers
move along quickly
across this lined page.

Back about thirty five years ago
I had the experience
of completely shutting off
this mind
and I thought later
that I had nearly died
and that it was an awful thing
but now
in my later years
I see that it was not so awful
but was actually a wonderful event
which now I practice
(although much more gently).

A friend once said that he never heard a sound that he didn't like.
Some people disagree.
I hear things.
Voices, dogs barking, and the sirens of emergency.
My friend was right about sound.
The pain bothers me.
Oh well, no pain, no gain!

Relaxed, now,
after a morning
of a mind trip
which was
a bunch of thoughts
taking me in a very wrong direction,
thoughts which were trying
to get me to give up,
but it occured to me,
suddenly,
that a cleansing of the mind
was needed
so instead of giving up,
I did my thing!

Torturous,
growing up,
peaceful road
when I got old.

Mom and I
both live here
and I fixed her
bacon and eggs.

I come to this blank screen
without any conscious knowledge
about how to write this,
but I have
a sneaking feeling
that I already do know
exactly what to do,
and it's like meditation,
when you start
to meditate,
even if you've done it
a million times,
I always get the notion
that I don't know how
to do it,
but then I go ahead
and do it,
so this poetry racket
is the same thing,
I just sit here
and write it
even though I don't know how,
because actually
I do,
or maybe I don't,
you decide.

They didn't tell me about the artists who are on the bottom.
I thought all artists were famous.
I thought the art life was something to write home about.
I didn't know about the artists who lived with Mom
and hung out in the basement.
I didn't know about the artists who lived in the street.
There seem to be two or so people who are artists who are on the top.
They are the only ones that people know about.
There are millions of artists in between.
They have shows and readings and performances and stuff.
We don't seem to know about the ones who are on the bottom.
It's slow down here.

Ordinary, everyday life
is none other
than infinity
and eternity.

The purpose of this
is to document
the place and time
where I am
at this present moment.

So how might our nation
give more global warming?
Watch your world as to
what is wrong, then they
might not approve. What
is wrong? Such a person
more profound is to judge
awakened consciousness
when he freed no thing
very good. Rather than
events, give more than
the universe. Knowing
versus wants and nurture
the energy. These are
not normal times. Events
are happening like always.

This morning
I wrote some music
which sounded
something like
my mood -
happy-crazy,
so that cheered me up
then I put it away!

The heat bugs of July
have stopped their
music of white noise
for a moment
as the humming
of the computer
reminds this man
sitting here
to listen.

Sometimes
you feel like a nut
sometimes
you don't.

Someone with a mind
which is just starting something
has very many options
about how to proceed
and sometimes
they are trapped
because there are so many directions
to go
that they can't decide on any.
Someone with a mind
who has studied something
for a long time
has few options
about how to proceed
and sometimes
they are trapped
because there seems to be
only one way to go.
Someone with a mind
who is a master
has no options
I think
and therefore they can do anything
that they want or don't want
so they are not trapped
and they fly.

Taking the morning off
I get to work
on this creation
because the nine
to five existence
is some life
which I think
I can't do
so I don't do it.

There was a guy
in glee club
who was a composer
and had perfect pitch,
who wrote a cool piece
for us glee clubbers
to sing,
so, I liked it,
but there was one part
that the conductor repeatedly said
that the basses,
which I was one,
scooped the pitch,
but, I didn't think so,
so it ****** me off,
and after a performance
we had a party,
and some of us
went out back
to sing this piece,
so, right when we got
to the part
that the conductor
was talking about,
I scooped the hell
out of the pitch,
and the composer
with perfect pitch said
that he would never
perform that piece
again.

In high school
I saw the pretty girls
and felt like
I was starving for them
as though I were
without water
and those girls
were the ones
who I felt were impossible
to even say hi to
and then along came
a girl
who I was not even attracted to
who instantly seduced me
and away we went
but it went very wrong
and I wound up
a broken, angry kid
starting off all wrong
like usual.

Waking up
at ten o'clock at night
I start my fourteen hour morning
depressed and not wanting
to do anything
so I remember
the Zen master's New Year's message
in which he says
"When you're tired and disappointed,
Write a poem."
so here I am.

blood is moving
through the body
and the head
is forgiven.

I had predicted
did not realize that
not remember or
things they did
recommend highly and heard
which I
taped psychic session
listened to the
this when they
accurate they realized
future predictions were
me that my
report to
of my clients
70%.

A long time ago
I heard about
people who wash
their hands
about a thousand times a day
and can't help it
and can't stop it
so that freaked me out
and I decided unconsciously
to stop washing my hands
and then a long while after that
I thought that it was time
to wash my hands again
after hearing about its health benefits
so now I take care
to wash my hands
and I do it just enough
times a day.

I remembered
my twenty years
of growing up
in agony
and discovered
that it wasn't so bad
and that I actually had
a great time
so now I love
everything and everybody
because all of the pain
is gone.

I woke up as someone else.
I don't know who it was.
So, I went back to sleep.

It seems to be lack
of trust in the universe,
the signless, nothing.

The thoughts have a tendency
to go down like water
to their low point
and that is when
it is time to refresh the mind
with a little practice
of some kind
like meditation.

Now, let's not lose our heads,
but what if
the government
along with a team
of psychiatrists
and computer specialists
and even military men
were watching us
with the new communication technology
that we now have,
in our homes,
and they were doing
mind control experiments,
like behavioral tests
and tests of our minds,
by using subliminal messages
and watching our reactions,
much like what was done
to terrorists who were in prison,
because they were trying
to determine
if we were dangerous
or if we were sane,
of course,
it would drive us
insane,
so they would conclude
that we were insane
and delusional,
so, let's not lose our heads,
but what if
there was also
a program
of mind altering
weapons
which were being fired at us
from satellites in space
and from anywhere
that they had them,
like was done
in the Iraq war,
and the reason
that they are doing it
is to silence our minds
so that we don't think
and just accept
the subliminal messages.
Well, this is an interesting idea
and I hope you don't panic,
and it could be happening
24 7
but let's not lose
our heads.

Come on  Earl,
let's go to the best
bar in town
and I'll buy you a beer.

                **** no. I don't
                have any money
                and you don't
                have any either.

Oh, come on Earl,
when I first saw you
I thought, I'd really like
to have a beer

with that guy.
                **** no. All I've got
                is some change.
                I don't want

                any money.
                I don't need
                any money.
Tell you what.

You give me
fifty cents,
and I'll buy you
a beer in the best

bar in town.
                OK, it's a deal.
                (He reached into his pocket,
                pulled out his hand full of change,

and gave me two quarters.
I took them gratefully
and put them away.
We walked to the bar.

As a car drove by, I have nothing to say.
When the hum of the computer is listened to, I have nothing to say.
As the fingers make the clicking sound of keys dancing, I have nothing to say.
When the mind is stuffed with a cloud.
Well, you know.

The face is downcast
but the spirit is cooled
when summer cars down.

For years
I have been
playing with my brain
trying to find
my old mind
and now it has dawned on me
that my ordinary,
everyday mind
is none other than this
ordinary, everyday mind
that I have right here.
The joke's on me.

Win a wham of crusty
bangles, dripping in
sugary zoo cake for
the zimmy of rocko buster
tootie with
a booper of sock fish!

The telephone
on my right
has a cord
hanging limply down
and it reminds me
of the fact
that no one calls
or writes
but I then remember
that less is sometimes better
and know
that I have many friends
out there
who seem invisible
but feel present.

I had a fear of my inside world years ago.
I thought it was my back.
I thought it was dark.
There was trouble in my head.
I thought the scene outside was where it was.
It took much study to once again love my inner world.
I loved it as a kid.
I am a kid again.