I can feel
my Theta brain waves
all over my body
with that inaudible sound
that makes me feel
like I have melted.

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

Sometimes
when I do something
a little less
than good,
the mind
bugs me
with a guilt trip
to ****** land,
and I know
that morality
is a cornerstone
of Buddhism
which I subscribe to,
but the moral, virtuous, pure way
bothers me
as does the chemistry
of the mechanism of the mind
which gives me
this crap.

"One thousand changes of mind in the time of a snap of your fingers" - Gelek Rimpoche

Change your mind
if you have
a problem with it.

"First thought - Enlightened thought! Second thought - Buddha thought!" - Samu Sunim

Thoughts don't seem
to be so good
but they probably
actually are.

I was getting
a pillow
for my mom
who is in hospice care
and as I went
I bashed my knee
on a piece of furniture
so hard
that I had to sit down
and moan in pain
and later
it became red
and probably will
develop a bad bruise
so my practices,
many of which
I do standing up
and dancing,
had to be changed,
so I tried the new way
of doing them
sitting on a chair
and to my surprise
I thought they were better,
so once again
it has been shown to me
that accidents
and unintentional occurances
sometimes
are the best things
that can happen.

Throughout my life,
I have felt crummy,
even as a child,
and for all these years,
I have been looking for
a cure for feeling crummy,
so I found one,
tonight,
since I was in
the basement,
feeling crummy,
it occurred to me
that feeling crummy
is the same feeling
as being ******
on many kinds
of recreational drugs,
and the only difference is
that we like to be ******,
but we don't like
to feel crummy,
so all I had to do
was to think
that I was ******,
instead of crummy,
and it worked!
so I became
instantly happier
and felt much better,
so that's my cure
for feeling lousy,
just think
that you are ******.

When I was about
five years old,
I was sitting
on a swing,
depressed,
because there
was nothing fun
to do,
so I asked my mom,
"Mom, what's there to do?"
and she said back,
"Go clean your room."
but I didn't want to do that
because that was no fun
so I just sat there longer,
depressed and restless,
and so begins
a lifetime
of low restlessness,
until tonight
when I have uncovered
the secret answer,

and that is
that when I don't feel
like I know what to do
and it seems like
there's nothing to do,
I sit down
in a chair
and in my case,
I think and smoke,
to entertain myself,
and then
I wait
until the one right special thought
occurs to me
about the one right fun thing
to do,
and then I go do it,
and this seems like an obvious simple understanding
but there really is something deeper to it,
like that it is the cure
for my entire problem,
and maybe other's problems,
too.

So I was in New York City
and I was depressed,
not because I was such a success
and had so much money,
but because the stress
that was on me
was so unbearable
that I wanted to die,
so I stepped inside
the front door
of the Empire State Building
and climbed every flight of stairs
up to the top
where I walked over
to the edge
and knew this was my time
and I executed
a perfect swan dive
off the roof,
but then, as soon as I was flying
I decided that actually
I wanted to stay alive,
that I had a lot to live for,
so in a panic
I cried out
to the Great Fairy Godmother Savior In The Sky
to save me,
and instantly
a feeling came over me
that I had to throw up,
so, puking,
up came two shiny metal springs
which I attached to the top of my head
and then I hit the sidewalk and
BOING
up I bounced
all the way up
to the top of the Empire State Building,
where in a gentle arc
I landed,
and was so happy
that I began to laugh
and the laughter became more and more
uncontrollable,
so much so
that I fell over on to my back
where I had
a heart attack
and died,
so the moral is -
"Somethins Gonna *** Ya".

So, I had
a hundred dollars
which I wanted
to give away
to a homeless person,
but since
if you want to find
a homeless person,
you won't be able to,
unless you just happen
to come across one,
so I also
wanted to give away Dharma,
which is the teaching
of the Buddha,
so I went
to a Dharma bookstore,
and asked for Dharma,
and the owner said,
"I can't give you Dharma,
it's everywhere.",
and then he said,
"If you want to give away Dharma,
don't give it to me,
because I'll just get mad...
it's like teaching spirituality
to your mother...
go give it to somebody else",
so I turned
to the lady standing there,
and introduced myself,
and we talked
about her depression,
and I told her about my depression,
and we talked about
our medications,
so I gave her
the hundred dollars,
and she was so happy
that she hugged me,
and I left the store,
and she ran out after me
and told me
that she couldn't take it,
and gave me back
the hundred dollars,
so the moral
of this story is
"All Dharmas Are Empty".

Woke up in some kind of darkness.
Like Dracula was in the house.
Heavy and gothic feeling, drowning me.
So I ate a dill pickle.
That helped, but not enough.
Decided to write a dumb poem about it.
There, there...that's better.

So, a big fat poet
who is a friend
of mine,
and who likes
to wax poetically,
came to me
in a dream,
and he said,
"Enough of this simplistic stuff...
give me some complexity...
something modern...
something more like mine"
so I went upstairs
and wrote a poem
about coffee
where I artistically expounded
in great detail and exageration
about the matter of making
coffee,
and when I was done
I thought,
"Eh...it's like my old style...
no wonder I changed"
so, enough
of the Great Bards
who talked
in the accent
of a Grand Thespian
with his voice
like William Shatner,
it's back
to being simple
like me.

Staring at a carpet,
he submits the mind
to a haze. She stands

up and counts by twos.
Why do we see a turning?
Almost time to pack up,

he waits for a certain
impulse. The blue car
with a flag for some

sticker is cold and
happy. Instead of a
clock, he uses the

broken fog to direct
his worthless trip
to that tired store.

So my hair
was getting
really long
so I went
to the barber shop
with the lady barbers
and told her
to give me
a businessman's haircut
which I used to call
normal style
and she cut off
most of my hair
and shaved my neck
with a straight razor
and I thought
that it was great
but now
my hair stands up
in the back
so I look like
Alfalfa
(if you remember him)
without the grease.

Writing poetry
is a hindrance and a help.
The internet
is a hindrance and a help.
Following your breath
is a hindrance and a help.
When you practice spirituality
you will encounter
a hindrance and a help.
The rich people of the world
who think they are winning
because they are so blessed
with piles of money
are a hindrance and a help.
The governments of the world
who are practicing mind control
to subdue the population
by making them crazy
are a hindrance and a help.
Business and government
that use subliminal messaging
to make themselves secure
by making the people insane
are a hindrance and a help.
Life is a hindrance and a help.
Death is a hindrance and a help.
You might say
that it's all good.

Everything seems to have a way of being not so good sometimes.
I think maybe it's because of atomic makeup or something.
Alcohol is a thing that is not so good most of the time.
I don't know why this is.
They call it spirits so that means it has a spirit.
It can be very tricky.
It can give me foot in mouth disease.
So today because I am a fool, I drank a little bit of whisky.
I said stupid things.
Now, I'm sitting here on a sort of guilt trip.
Oh well, such is life here in the College Of Lifelong Learning that we call earth.

So the song sings
that we are all innocent,
but I don't think
that's true,
of course
maybe nothing is true,
but I think
that we are all
almost not guilty
by reason of insanity,
the insanity
that goes with being
human,
so I seem to know
that I am almost not guilty
because I know
that since I have a book
of all the sins and crimes
of all the people
who I have perceived
to have hurt me,
that everybody else
has a book
on me,
and I seem to know
that they are probably right
about me,
being an *******
in the past,
just like I think
that so many
in my life
were *******
to me,
so we're almost not guilty
by reason of insanity,
so I'll give us
a suspended sentence.

In order to
keep myself awake
and mindful
I am doing the things
that I would ordinarily
do with my right hand
with my left hand
so old habits
are changing
and so does
the mind.

Buddha discovered
the absolute equality
of everything
but us lesser beings
need the brilliance
of descriminating
among the many millions
in order to uncover
what is right
for us
like this stone
around my neck
which I found out about.

After coffee
I do seven practices
which are short
like "Lifting The Sky"
and "Carrying The Moon"
and "Tapping"
and "Nianjuli"
and "The Opera Singer's Warm-up"
and "Yoga/Zen/Reflexology/Chi Kung"
and "The Tune Up"
and then I finish off
by meditating
healing vibrations
toward the tumor
in my crotch
which I won't let
the doctors touch.

I got into my space exploration vehicle.
(I got into my car)
I took off, and traveled on the intergallactic freeway.
(I drove down the street)
I was going to the lost planet.
(I was off to the drug store)
I took a few lefts at the asteroid belts.
(I turned)
I arrived at the lost planet, and landed safely.
(I parked)
The automatic entry opened.
(You know, those automatic doors)
The communication devices were greeting me.
(TV in drug stores)
I was searching for the mysterioous red and white cannister.
(I was there to buy a Budweiser)
I found it in the back, in a cold place, by the waffle demons.
(It was in the cooler by the ice cream cones)
I took it to the being, and we exchanged paper and metal.
(I paid)
I left, and got back into my spaceship.
(I got into the car)
I flew at light speed and altered my route to avoid the aliens who were also flying.
(I drove at the speed limit, and turned at the stop signs)
I arrived safely at my space station.
(I got home)
Thus has been
another of the continuing adventures
of Michigan Kongsaeng,
the great Nothing.

After an afternoon nap
I awoke without any thoughts
an empty brain
and in Zen they say that's great
and everyone seems to think so
but it disturbed me
so I just sat in a chair
without a thought
for a few hours
doing nothing
then later I did some Zen practice
and the mind began talking again
so I felt much better.

They say
that a beginner
has many options,
but an expert
has one or none,
so I joined
a new website
where there
are thousands
of great photographers,
so, inspired by them
I decided
to enroll in Buddha's self-help school
of beginning photography,
and actually
I have never liked
photography as an art form,
until I began studying
and now I am obsessed
by the actions
of my little Kodak
that gives me
such amazing
bad photography.

Living in my indigo house
sitting on a straight chair
I find the essential word
which turns me into
a suburban Hawaiian
here in snowy Michigan
and the word that appears
in my indigo mind
means love, compassion and mercy
as well as hello
and as well as goodbye.
Aloha!

So here's the story -
Jesus will come down
from the sky
in a space ship
and **** all of us
with his magic
energy blasting *****
and we will all have
such an enormous ******
that we will all have
a delicious heart attack
and then
in clouds with lotus blossoms
we will float up
into the sky, laughing,
and wind up
in paradise
where God
will have shaved
off his big beard
and come out
from behind
the judicial bench
and just shoot the ****
with us all
and we will write poetry
and eat grapes
and paint and sing
for eternity
or at least
for a long time.

So there was
vast empty space
in which there was
a small ball
of extremely tight matter
in the space
and it was orange
in color
I think
and all of us
in the universe
were there,
we were part of it,
and it got thinking
about finding what
was out there
in that empty space,
so it blew up
and all of us
went flying off
into that empty space
where we are now
on these planet space things
going out
to see what
is out there
in empty space,
so I guess
that's how it goes.

"Unh...This is not like...unh...life as we know it, is it?" - Maxine

I know what you mean, Maxine,
this is not like life as we know it,
but that's only because
life as we know it
is not like
life as it is.

I believe
in attachments
like sitting in a chair
smoking and drinking
while thinking about stuff
and I believe
in sleep and laziness
and I don't particularly
like purity or wholesomeness
and I don't even
exactly practice
moderation
so I guess that makes me
an anti-zen buddhist zen buddhist
and I am a good Buddhist
even if maybe I'm not.

The first thing
that comes to mind
is the reality
of a working earth
where everything
works perfectly
with its imperfection
and where we all
get what we need
even if it doesn't seem like it
and a presence
which is not a being
as I see it
but an emptiness
that is as beautiful
as space
from which anything
is born.

This morning
I was preparing
to photograph
something
so I got the idea
of taking
a random photograph
of right where I
was sitting
and this
is the idea
of creating
without any idea
even though
there was
an idea.
The ideas come
to us people
even if

we don't particularly

want them.

Art is not necessarily a fame thing.
Art is not necessarily a money thing.
Art is not necessarily a work thing.
Art is not necessarily a perfected thing.
Art is not necessarily a difficult thing.
Art is not necessarily a masterpiece thing.

I go down
to the basement
and paint.

I go down
to the basement
and make music.

I come up
to the computer
and write.

So, long ago
we had the Renaissance Period,
and then there was
the Baroque Period,
and then there was
the Classical Period,
and then there was
the Romantic Period,
and then we got to
the Twentieth Century,
and we called it modern
and we called it contemporary
but we can't use
those words anymore,
so I say
we call it
the Weird-*** Period,
where every artist,
musician, playwright,
composer, poet,
and so on,
were doing weird-****.
I love this period.
So, in the sixties or so
we had the killing
of music
by John Cage
in his silent piece,
and the death
of painting
in the blank canvas,
and there must have been
a blank piece of paper
that was a poem,
and then
we had the rebirth
of art
in the work
of the minimalists,
and of course,
don't forget
the conceptual artist
who had himself shot,
so now,
we are well into
the Twenty-First Century,
so it must be
the Post Weird-*** Period,
but maybe
we should call it
the Bizarro Period,
or something like that.

So somebody and I
were walking down my street
in the slush and the snow
and I noticed that the sun
was traveling the wrong way
so I realized that this was a dream
and I said to the person
"Don't worry about the slush,
it's not real...this is a dream"
and then I decided to fly
as I like to in dreams
when I am awake
and I taught the man with me
to fly and I said "Watch out
for the trees!" and he ran
into one, so we landed
and I thought about
walking through walls
so I approached a house
and tried to walk through
but couldn't, because
I saw that the house
was a painting on canvas.

So, I woke up
this morning,
and was promptly attacked
by a Chinese martial artist
brain cell,
so I got angry
and decided
that I didn't like
my teachers,
and then
the insane Republican
brain cell,
began to shout,
"Get Busy!",
so I think
I've got
bad brain
chemistry.

So a little kid
was searching around
the crowded metaphysical bookshop
and he had
an old unplugged telephone
that didn't work,
so he asked
the lady,
"What's this?"
and she said,
"A cord"
so he asked,
"What does that mean?"
and she tried
to explain,
so he asked,
"What do you mean,
connection?"
and she tried
to explain,
so he asked,
"What do you mean,
plugged in, inside?"
and she tried
to explain,
so I rang
a bunch of small cymbals
that were attached
to the chair
that I was sitting on,
and the little kid
put the telephone
down.

"Hello"
"Come in"
"What's been going on?"
"It's the new year"
"What have you been doing?"
"Art...and spiritual practice"
"What kind of art do you do?"
"Poetry, painting and music"
"Oh...can you sell it?"
"No...not really...I put it on the internet"
"Is the medicine OK?"
"Yeah, fine, I've been taking it for a long time"
"OK, see you in a month"
"Bye"

I went to an appointment
with the Chinese doctor
and he diagnosed my problem
as head wind flu
so he prescribed
that I wear a hat
and use a blow dryer
then after I left
I felt much better.

I debated
going for a walk,
tonight,
and finally decided
to do it,
so, at two o'clock
in the morning,
I went outside,
and it was cold.
The first thing
that struck me
as I walked out
of the door,
was a memory
or a group
of memories,
of being a fearless,
reckless, drunk
young person,
who was out
at this time
many times before,
and I even could seem
to smell his alcohol.
But, there was no guilt
or shame,
it was a sweet memory.
And I remembered,
the words
of a Zen master,
who said
that the past, present,
and future
are all here
in the present moment,
so I thought
of the future,
and my back straightened
a little,
and I warmed up
a little,
so I thought
maybe the future
will be better
than we think.

There is a quiet way
to work out
our craziness.
It's an inside job.
It can be done
with thought
and other expressions
of mind.
One way
to deal
with the madness
is by writing a poem.
Another way
to deal
with the madness
is by being a poem.
Here it is.

This morning
I was outside
sitting
and I thought
that I would do
a few dances,
so the first one
in the back yard
was a dance
to Pushan,
the god of the sun,
but I don't know
if there is any such thing
as a god of the sun,
so I bowed
toward the east
and with my Pushan mudra
began to wave my arms around
in some sort of Tai Chi thing
and walk around,
so then there was
the water dance
and the earth dance,
and finally,
I decided
to do a *** dance
to the woman inside of me,
so with my hands in a mudra
in front of my chest,
I waved around
a little more,
and I must have looked
like some kind of nut case
to the neighbors,
but it's alright
because they already know
that I am.

Thin fingers
gracefully
balancing.

The right foot
has a wrecked toe
that feels as though
it is broken all through
and as I walk upstairs
the pain says
"How do you do?".

I proposed
in my mind
to Kwanseum Bosal
the Bodhisattva
of Great Compassion
so a little while ago
I had a dream
where I was to go
to my wedding
but I didn't want
to go
so today
I switched around
my Buddhist altars
to give Kwanseum Bosal
a permanent altar
of her own
and I decided
instead of marrying her
I would worship her.

So it's back to the first formal practice
done for the first time forty years ago
which I invented without knowing anything
that brought about a big kaboom experience
and started my whole Zen trip or so I thought
so I just sit and watch my blinking
and nothing happens except being in being
and sometimes I even chant Om
like the world seems to like to make fun of
and I do have fun with this spiritual stuff
that actually probably is nothing to get
too shook up about.

Gone, gone,
gone beyond,
gone far beyond
the rational mind
is the thought
that heals
anything
even a toothache.

Sitting in a black vinyl chair,
I put my hands one on top
of the other,
and breathe deeply
while reciting inside
six precious words
which empty my mind
as I become being itself
just sitting there
in a black vinyl chair.

I'm not complaining
right now
about life
but I really do
have a bellyache

so sometimes
like this morning
I get to *******
about the way
things are going

but then
I fix up
the *******-up thoughts
and it gets better
or so I think.

They used to tell me,
"Just be yourself"
when I was a kid,
as maybe a way
to act on a date
or something,
so now,
late in life,
I have finally
figured out
what it means,
so here goes -
"Be yourself" means
don't be that other guy
who is yourself,
who is that phony guy
who is yourself,
but be, instead,
yourself,
who is not that other guy
who is yourself,
but be yourself instead,
so you see why
I didn't understand
what they meant,
and that was why
my dates
were all
****** up.

A big storm is coming.
I don't mean that metaphorically.
I'm a believer in the signless.
It's just that a storm is coming in February.
Storms probably should come in February.
They always have seemed to come in February.
I hope the electricity doesn't go off.
I will try the philosophy of radical acceptance.
That way if the electricity goes off, I'm OK and if it doesn't, I'm OK.
A big storm is coming.
OK!

So my elderly mother
who I am taking care of
was in bed
for a month or so
and she yelled to me
that she had to go
to the bathroom
but she couldn't stand up
so she told me to change
her protective underwear
and when I did
I saw that she
was covered with black diarrhea
so I cleaned it off
as best I could
and she tried to stand up
but collapsed on the floor
so I called 911
and the men came
and said
"Internal bleeding".