you know I slept
twenty years
and woke to find
all things changed


when I sleep now,
though only a few hours
each night,
I wonder
if it had not been better
if I had slept forever


I had not known
trouble in my long sleep;
and I was not bewildered
by a world
that is strange and distant
though I move in it all day long


I had not known
any care or worry;
nor had I to think where
my next meal was to come from
or hang over things like
what today's contemporaries
fret about:
things like retirement funds
and aged care; and a will
that will be ample and fair


I had not known
people of strange ways
when I slept;
I had not to condone
the conceited and those whose
only concern is self-interest;
and men and women of twisted emotion
and hell-bent on ****** and blood
and lust;
and a lawn that must be trimmed


and in my bear-sleep
I had no encounter
with the fool, the arrogant, the ambitious
and the tyrant and the greedy;
all I knew in my long sleep
was quiet, oblivion and bliss
and so I ask myself often
as I sit in the shade of the tree:
*I wonder
if it had not been better
if I had slept forever?

I slept for twenty years
comfortably below the tree
up in the quiet mountains
and all that time
I lay in a sleep
as deep as before
I came to my mother's womb


and yes, I had dreams
in those two decades of sleep -
but no, I did not dream of angels and heaven
or guiding lights and stars
but simply dreamed
that I shed all forms of thoughts and ideas
like one sheds one's clothes
before one enters a placid lake



and I dreamed often
there were no thought patterns and creed
no dogma and beliefs
and there were no ideas and organized religion;
and there was no form or shape
nor a past or future or time;
no sets of thought to cling to
and therefore no questions or answers:
and I entered so the lake of silence


and having dreamed that
having entered the lake
you will understand why
I do not sit in church or group;
why I do not seek or conform
and why I have no interest
in all these books you wave
and these revelations you espouse;
and simply no interest
in all these things you preach




I slept for twenty years
comfortably below the tree
up in the quiet mountains
and all that time
I lay in a sleep
as deep as before
I came to my mother's womb

a child is born free of mind
but is hardened into thought
and by the time one dies
most are fixed and ******* into
worlds of their making,
heavens of their fantasies*

so one thinks one's an Indian, one a Chinese
or an American or British or Swedish
or French or Russian or German;
or one thinks one is a Christian or Muslim
or Jew or Hindu or Sikh or Catholic
or Doaist or Buddhist or Marxist or Communist
or even for that matter, an atheist
- or whatever you will...
one finds a badge to pin proudly to one's chest
and each identity becomes so strong
it becomes so real
it all comes into the question of right and wrong
of evil and good
and it falls into loud declamations
and my tribe is good, your tribe is evil
my brand is holy, your brand unholy...
and so it goes,
with all sorts of justifications
that beat sense out of all loyal adherents
and it squeezes humanity out of the human
as paste out of a tube...
ah, and yes,
the energy goes on into the afterlife
as Christians go into a Christian Heaven
and Hindus and Buddhists into various Lokas
and Muslims in their own Paradise
and so it goes on,
this Human Tragi-Comedy,
yes, yes, certainly all created by the Almighty
who was created by your mind's poverty
so that
a child is born free of mind
but is hardened into thought
and by the time one dies
most are fixed and ******* into
worlds of their making,
heavens of their fantasies

Snorers all
scattered world-wide
in offices and homes
in boardrooms
and bedrooms;
O Snorers all
loud and clear
low and shrill -
listen ye
to the loud wake-up call
as from Rip Van Winkle's Snore

stand up united
and drown the howl of protests
against snoring that is surely no less divine
than the Chorus of Angels in Heaven -
for the great God who made the Aurora
no doubt also conceived of the Divine Snore!


and so, stand up, ye sonorous Snorers!
unite! I call unto ye!
unite against the detractors
and the critics
and the complainants
and those of low culture
who cannot
lie still and listen to Snoring
as one rightly would at a concert hall
listening to the delightful play
of a quartet of violins


O how long will you take it lying down,
ye blessed Snorers of the World?
let the world know
the first divine music was indeed the Snore;
and the very height of human communication
is the unabashed snore
for all other modes of communication
lead to mis-communication
but the language of the snore is always exact and crisp!
the message of the Snore always precise!
the meaning always loud and clear!
and the very height of the snore
(let us declare to the world)
is the couple in bed
snoring away together
beside each other
making such divine music
making love with the rolling thunder of snores
so that one might say:
do we have a couple of wild boars
copulating in the next room?



stand up, O Snorers of the World -
and defy the mockers
and those who seek divorce
on grounds of insufferable Snoring;
stand up against those who sue
for loss of sleep from
friendly, neighborly Snorers;
stand up now
against these losers, these whingeing nags
uncouth and untutored
in the mysteries of the art of the Snore!
stand up and with one loud blast of
a universal Snore,
with one melodious Snore
let us
drown their dissenting voices,
their unprovoked cacophonous complaints!
stand up, Snorers young and old!
unite, Snorers black, white and gold!
defy the world! O ye Snorers
of quite nights and of lazy days:
let us overwhelm the world
with the pleasing symphony of Snores;
let us bless the ears of the world
with the dulcet streams of varied notes and arias!
stand up! unite! - O much-maligned Snorers of the World!
with one voice raised
in a triumphant Snore
let us declare:
*No longer will we be silent!
Our voices will be heard!

the owl's on its tree
and the bats eat their fruit;
the night surrounds the home
and the stars glow in the sky:
sleep you, sweetheart;
slip you
into your gentle world this night


the home's quiet
and the hearts gentle and warm;
the moonlight blesses the windows
and the air within
radiates grace, ease and calm:
sleep you, sweetheart;
slip you
into your gentle world this night

ah, happy crow
(uncaring that humans may
not find you very pleasant)
you sit on the branch of that shady tree
and you peck at a bone you've brought yourself
and you are busy, busy, busy eating;
and I, happy too, sit here
at a table, eating my sandwich
and sipping a little water

ah, happy crow busy, busy eating
(uncaring that many humans may
not find you very pleasant)
I know your happiness
and you know mine;
and thus we sit at our spots
eating the bits we find

countless generations of bards and preachers
and poets and sages
and honorable and revered members
of our respectable societies
countless such generations
have spoken and declaimed
have sung and serenaded
on goodness and cruelty and avarice -
and yet put them in power,
and scrutinize their lives
and their words
become thin
and their lives shallow
and their songs are cherubic lies;
a long line of saints and philosophers
and prophets
and mild-mannered selfless carers
ah such holy stewards
a long line indeed
has nurtured humanity, its sick and downtrodden
and radiates love in all directions
but oh scrutinize their actions and
their motives
their lives are but comic contradictions
pathetic self-delusion;
ah, let me not seek to change the world
but see to myself first
rather than jump into
hot-air sermons and vain exhibitions