Snowflakes

Light white bright
Snowflakes were falling
That January
Morning
While we were trying
To write
About Light

Sean   Hunt
Windermere 2015 Jan 16

SKY BURIAL

Please bury me high, way up in the sky
In a place, away from the human race
Where I will be  a gift, to a happy little bird
And save everyone, a lot of work

When I die take me away, on a jumbo jet
To that land, that they used to call Tibet
Find some monks to bury me, high up in the air
I'll tell you how they bury people up there
Where there are no trees, to be found
Where there is no earth, on the ground

Monks will carry me, to the highest spot
Once their knives, have been sharpened a lot
They will slice me in pieces, with surgical love
And feed me to the buzzards, circling above

Please bury me high, way up in the sky
In a place away from the human race
Where I will be a gift, to a happy little bird
And save everyone, a lot of work

Sean Hunt  
2015 January Windermere

'Sitting' In The River

'Sitting' .....
In the middle
Of the river
Of moments
Flowing by
Watching it all
From the corner
Of your inner
Eye
Saying
'Samsara
Goodbye'

Sean Hunt
Windermere, Oct 2015

She's Steady And She's Spry

Although I'm more than sixty one
Someone thinks that I am young
You know I live beside a woman
Who's a hundred and one

She's steady and she's spry
Has a sparkle in her eye
I see her nearly every day
And she can hear what I say

She can listen, she can laugh
And put a tear in your eye
When you're realize you're letting
Your days slip by

Sean Hunt  
Feb 23rd 2015

Scratching On The Screen

It's such a sad scene
We're messing with our movie
Scratching on the screen
Not knowing we're projecting
A very bad dream
It's such a sad scene
And the source of it all
Is a toxic mindstream
It's such a sad scene

We're bathing in a waterfall
Downstream
From a dam
Made by
The mind of man
And we don't even know
Each drop is a sham
Unaware
We sit and stare
Unaware

Sean Hunt
Windermere November 2015

Shadowy Man

If I am a shadowy man
What can this mean?
What shadow do I cast?
And where does it land?
If I am a shadowy man?

What does this mean?
Is something partially seen,
The view obscured
By something else,
Maybe by you?

The truth is:
I am a simple shadow
Cast by the bright clear light
Of my very subtle mind

I have nothing to do
With how you see me
Moment to moment.
That is up to you

Sean Hunt  
2015 January Windermere

Could this
Possibly,
Finally,
Be,
A poem
Without
A theme?

Sean Hunt
Windermere Dec 20 2015

We all want happiness
But happiness will only come
If we give happiness
To someone else,
Not ourself

We all want to be free from fear
This is easy, not so hard
Remove some fear
From another heart

Me and mine
Is the choral whine
Drowning out
The stillness and peace
That we all need
So desperately

Sean Hunt  
2015 April Windermere

Can you imagine
A poem
Without a theme?
The theme of
That poem
Would be
The absence
Of a theme.

This poem
Tried
Unsuccessfully
To be
A poem
Without
A theme

Sean Hunt
Windermere 2015 April

Some like rocket red
Or the sheen of bright green
I prefer pastels

Some like shocking pink
Others are mellowed by banana yellow
I prefer pastels

Navy blue for bigger boys
Or **** sportscar red
I prefer pastels

Forest green seduces some
Purple for my mum
I prefer pastels

Subdued, subtle, soft
I prefer pastels

But black is cool too

Sean Hunt
Feb 13th 2015

Our mind is like a field
Receiving many seeds

They can become  delicious fruit
Bitter fruit
Or troublesome weeds

The luck of a lottery
Sometimes surprises

Or good fortune may come
In other disguises

Only later do we see
With clarity
The truth of many
An unfolding
Seedling mystery

In our mind
Are planted
Many seeds

Out of sight

Sean Hunt  
Feb 26th 2015

Original Face

What did your original face
Look like
Before this life
The one that you had
Before your parents were born

Your primordial face
The one that has nothing to do
With the human race
Can you remember?

Expressionless?
The same as the rest?
Utterly unique,
One of a kind?
A ten?

Those were
Pre-'selfie' days!
We can only contemplate
In a  state of
Curious wonder
Ruminate
Hallucinate.

Sean Hunt
Windermere April 2015

On the train
Again
Strangers all around
Big and little
Hurted heads
Nothing said
Credit to
The kindest mother
Ever seen
'Tween
Now and then
Somehow seems
So long a time
Between my rhymes

Soon I'll be
Home again
Off the train
Let it blow
Let it rain
The cold will
Stay outside
And inside I will hide

Sean Hunt  
Between Scotland and Windermere
2015 English Winter

This little bird,
Only has one wing
Walks around on the ground,
And doesn't even sing
He only has one wing,
And he doesn't know a thing

He's a one winged bird,
He's smart  
        But he has a little heart            

All he knows, is what he sees
On the ground,
Between his knees,
Looking down on the ground
In the leaves

He's a one winged bird,
He's smart  
    But he has a little heart        

My love is unconditional,
If you do what I say
I love you sometimes,
If you love me every day
My love is unconditional,
But don't get in my way

I'm a one winged bird,
I'm smart  
But I have a little heart      

This little bird,
Only has one wing
Walks around on the ground,
And doesn't even sing
He only has one wing,
And he doesn't know a thing

Sean Hunt
  2015 Feb 12th Windermere

One season would suit me fine
Steamy summer days and nights
Being warm all the time
One season would suit me fine

I prefer sun and sand
To winter wonderland
Slow spring tease isn't nice
Nor is slippery ice

Autumn often makes me
Moody and Melancholy
I know how much I'll miss those days
When summer was so sultry

Some brazen Brits
Drink their fill
And bare their *******
In the bitter winter chill

I hibernate at home
Most of the time
Where the finger on the
Temperature dial
Is mine

Sean Hunt  
2015 January Windermere

I Need A New Name

I need a 'Protection Scheme'
Why?
Life is mafioso mean,
A very bad dream

I need protection
From the past
From the things that I have done
To almost everyone

I need protection
From the present
If I keep being me
I'll be tortured and tormented

I need a new mandala
I need a new name
Everything will change
Nothing will stay the same

I need a new name

Sean Hunt
Windermere December 20th 2015

One Day

Even though I know
You don't exist
Though I know I'm dreaming
I grovel and I grasp,
With a death-grip
At that cascade of pleasures
Dripping from your lip
I am a pathetic man
Seduced by lucid dreams
Tyrannized by
Stinking wishful thinking
Deceived by my delusions
Conned by human confusion
I know better now!
As healthy shame descends
I say, “One day,
One day I will part the veil
Or, better yet, burn it
And then I will see 'Reality”
One Day!

But not today

Sean Hunt  
Windermere August 2015

Ode To Lisa

Written a few months before
My daughter Lisa died
In a drowning incident
Related to her 'dark mystery'
Illuminated by this poem

She was very angry
But she wasn't sure why
Poured ***** on the flames
And watched them fly into the sky
She lived for a while inside the fire
Holding the hand of Joan of Arc
And they were both illuminated
In her dark mystery

Just before she became black ash
She stepped out of her furnace of fire
Slept a while, drank water
And forgot the flames

But in a little while
A spark from her old life
Ignited her hidden rage
And in desperation she escaped, again
From her conventional cage
Into her dark mystery

Sean Hunt
Windermere April 2015

Ode To ISIS

(in the Muslim religion if a man wishes to divorce from his wife he does not have to jump through the hoops that we have to jump through;  he only has to say to her seven times:  “I divorce you!”)

ISIS says:
“We love death as you love life”
Don't speak for me, please
Not everyone is as fond of life
As you are of death!

Life has horrors
And as some of us know
We are born and we die
Time after time
We think we come, we think we go.
Some of us know

The only good thing
About this life
Is we can exit forever
Like a man from his wife

I will not be reborn!
I will not be reborn!
I will not be reborn!
I will not be reborn!
I will not be reborn!
I will not be reborn!
I will not be reborn!

Sean Hunt    
2015 in Windermere

Why did you do it Charlie?
You showed the side we hide.
For the comic crucifixion,
On our cross you hung your pride.

You stumbled and you fumbled
In front of the whole world
But much to my surprise
You were a big hit with the girls

I wonder what they saw in you
That they didn't see in me?
Perhaps humble innocence
And vulnerability

Sean Hunt  
2015 June Windermere

Maybe you're a child
Of a barren woman
Waiting for
A family reunion

One day you will know
There's no one home
And you have always been
All alone

Doesn't matter anyway
It's Ok
One day you will find
That you don't mind

You can run your own show
Make the rules as you go
Watch the people come and go
Without feeling low

You will never miss your mama
Because you made her up
There won't be any more drama
Now you know you've had enough

Sean Hunt  
2015 in Windermere

Either an Ocean

Or a Wave

You choose

To be


Sean Hunt  
Windermere
December 1st  2015

My Horrible Habit

My horrible habit of laziness
Chains me to the ground
In the epicentre
Of the circumference
Of my life

I do what I like to do
And nothing else
Expending all my energy
On myself

My inconsideration for others
For all my mothers
Is utterly unacceptable

I must tie my mind
To the stake
And burn my self away

Sean Hunt  
Windermere April 2015

Moment To Moment      
   or      
The Major Mental Mistake
or
The Cognitive Error

I need to watch
Moment to moment
For that major mental mistake
That I make
The cognitive error that
Causes all confusion
And disillusion.

Trusting my mind,
Trusting my senses
Is stupid.
They have proven
Time after time
Again and again
They were wrong
In the end.

Me here, thing there,
Thing free from me,
Thing will always be.
If I close my eyes
Thing stays.
Even if I go away
Thing stays.
This is the major mental mistake
That I make,
Asleep or awake!

Sean Hunt  
2015 January Windermere

Magician 03

Although I know
All my tigers
Are bounding
Out of
My dream machine
Pretending to be mean
Why do I run
Why do I scream
When my
Very own tigers
Jump out of
My very own
Dream machine?

Maybe I'm
To good a magician
Tricked
By my own illusions
But
I really should know
I'm just putting on a show.

When the curtain comes down
And there's no danger
To be found
I can't be running
'Round and 'round
So scared,
Of my own,
Shadow

Sean Hunt
Windermere, Dec 19, 2015

Had To Turn Back

Been there
Done that
I figured
For me
That's not
Where it's at

My meditations
Used to be
In a frozen
Space station
Somewhere far
From the destination

Had to turn back
Take another tack
Start looking
Through the light
In the cracks

Sean Hunt  
Windermere December 19 2015

What is 'It' all about?
The mere absence of 'Its'

Sean Hunt
Windermere Dec 17, 2015

Lucy told me yesterday
I've got to live another way
The little bit of hair that's left
Is getting very grey

She said 'Flap that bodhisattva wing
You've got it all wrong
Your other wing, the wisdom wing
Is way too strong

You are long in the tooth
And there are two types of truth
There are two types of bliss
You're giving one of them a miss

Stop looking for laughs
Mr. Airbrush Man
You keep on covering it up
Whenever you can

Suffering is serious
And it's a sin to smile
While the mice are in such misery
All of the while”

She's not just a pretty face
She can be wicked with her words
Carving morsels of wisdom
That need to be heard

This has been forbidden fruit
For oh so many years
And I can't explain why
I've never given it a try

Maybe
Today
Will be the day?

Sean Hunt
Windermere December 17th

Moments

If you take some LSD
You can see
Moments
With your eyes
As they pass you by

Sixty moments per second
I am told
By a wise man
Who knows

But another wise man
I know
Who knows
Said two hundred

I suppose
They measured moments
Differently

Sean Hunt
Windermere  2015

Master Magician

I'm afraid of my shadow
Most of the time
Wandering up and down,
And all around
The pathways of my mind

What do I see
And what do I find
I only see me
And my own mind
À mirror of madness,
Alice holding up a looking glass

Showing me things that are not there
Things that won't be found anywhere
Dream-like manifestations
From the hands
Of a master magician

Sean Hunt  
Windermere May 2015

Jeremy Corbyn has enraged
The invisible monster

The machine is spun;
By pieces of mouth
Manipulated by
Megalomaniac
'Internationals',
Capitalistic global corporations,
Arms and petroleum merchants.

Surprise, surprise!!
It's time to climb
Up on the  cross
The global temple vendors,
Precisely placed politicians,
And media pharisees
Have been plotting
For Jeremy Jesus
I wonder who will wash their hands?

Merry Christmas!


Sean Hunt  
Windermere Xmas 2015

The great Taoist master Chuang Tzu once dreamt that he was a butterfly fluttering here and there. In the dream he had no awareness of his individuality as a person. He was only a butterfly. Suddenly, he awoke and found himself laying there, a person once again. But then he thought to himself, "Was I before a man who dreamt about being a butterfly, or am I now a butterfly who dreams about being a man?"
Zen

Monarchic Rant

Though I was born in Britain
I am not a 'Brit'
I do not fit in
Their houses are so cold
Because they are too cheap
To turn up the ****** heat

I find some of them deceitful,
They self-righteously pretend
To be serene
And peaceful
But love to fight
All over the world
Blasting other beings
Into the netherworld

Tied to tradition
They insist
On going against the global grain
They weigh in stones
And still drive on the wrong
****** side of the road

They sing 'God Save The Queen'.
God has more common sense
He believes the word 'Excellency'
A too commonly used currency
Slapped, like a hat
On the head of a simple aristocrat

God save the common people
Living under too many thumbs
Of  pretentious and powerful people,
With utterly obscene incomes

Sean Hunt  Windermere Dec. 7, 2015

Inana Shlash

How I wish I knew you
I would have melted
And oozed into
Your shoes
lingering many hours
Before you finally
Took a shower

I would have been a blanket
Embracing your back
Nuzzling against the nape
Of your neck
Until you wandered away
To a cool breeze
On the deck

If the gods would have
Smiled on me
I could have been
A billion water droplets
Easing into the hundreds
Of thousands of pores
In your silken skin

Alas
Our missile
Blew you away
And I don't know what to say

 Sean Hunt  
Windermere, December 6 2015

The World Will Be Burned

Over eight hundred thousand
Pounds per missile, Mate
British Sterling Money
NOT Imperial Weight!
I could cry.
Many Muslims too
Have teary eyes
Those who loved her smile
Those who bathed
In the radience
Of her beauty
Will remember the missile
And her smile
The missile
And her smile
The missile
And her smile
For a while
And then
When they have been brought
To the boiling point
The world
Once again
Will be burned

Sean Hunt  
Windermere, December 6, 2015

RAIN AGAIN!

This is the poem that I wrote
In my second floor flat
During the December downpour
Not knowing that the first floor
Would be flooded

Once again
The district of the lakes
Is taking
A long shower,
Again,
Today, yesterday
The day before yesterday
I forget when it started
The water's not hot
We’ll all be wide, wide awake.
We know
The drains will overflow
And flood the roads
With mud and water
No human ants will wander in the hills
They would get way too wet.
Maybe water rats will.

Sean Hunt
Windermere  December 5th 2015

Essence of
Buddha's teachings
Succinctly stated:
No Self
No Problem

Imagine
An imagined ******
Outside the state
Of awakedness
In the middle of the night
With your eyes and  mind
Shut tight
Without a worldly boy or girl

Imagine
You can step between
Each microcosmic
Moment in time
Humming
The eternal
*******
Existential rhyme

Gaté  Gaté  Gaté

This is the state
Of everlasting
Awakedness


Sean Hunt
Windermere
(in the middle of the night)
November 5th 2015

Imagine having nothing to learn
And imagine having nothing to yearn
Imagine if you dream this dream tonight
And never ever wake to daylight

Imagine when you  sleep  tonight
Dreaming a world where every thing's alright
Dreaming this dream tonight
Saying good night, and  turning off the light

You're never too warm or cold
And you never have to get old  
Where's there's no need to eat at all
And where you fly high but never fall

Imagine when you  sleep tonight
Dreaming a world where every thing's alright
Dreaming this dream tonight
Saying good night, and turning  off the light


Sean Hunt
Ulverston 2013

My mind,
Like a wound,
Hurts me when you move

Imagine
every single person
here on earth
is black
please don't have
a heart attack

all the shirts are purple
shoes are blue
cars too
so they can't say
anything
about you

and all the houses
painted pink
if you don't want to end up
in the clink

imagine
all we've got
is muslim mosques
where we can pray
I wonder what
we would say

Sean Hunt
Feb 14th 2015

I Am The Book

I am the book, that you read, in the afternoon
By the light of the day,  
Or at night by the light of a bright moon.

If you close your eyes,  I will steal away
But I will return, when you open them, again.

You hold me in your hands,  so you know me very well
You read me every day, and you have a tale to tell

I ask you where am I, when your eyes are open wide
You show me, but what about when your eyes are shut tight?

The book you see, is it the cover, hard-bound or soft?
You will tell me, no, no, definitely not!

I ask you then, am I page one? You say that I am not,
You say the same about the others, to the last page that you bought

We agree, you and me, that I am not a page
I sing Hallelujah!, Oh happy happy day!

You may say I'm a collection, of things that are not me
You must contemplate, and meditate on this impossibility!

I come from your imagination

I'm your creation,  “wonderful” !  (If I may say),
But on the day of your enlightenment, I will stay away.
Along with every 'thing', that you see, today

Sean
2015 in Windermere

I Am Like A Dream

I am like a dream
In the middle of your day
Arriving unexpected
Even when you pray

I'm tasked with terrifying you
To fill you up with fear
But don't believe anything
That you see or hear

I am an illusion
If you like you can relax
And realize it's all
A mere appearance act

But, you need to ask yourself
If the you you see
Is any more real
Than my me

Sean Hunt
May 31st Windermere

I Am A Rainbow
I come and I go.
Where from where to?
Few know
You think you see me up in the sky
Touching the ground, from on high
In days of old, tales were told
They say at my feet,
Lay pots of gold
If you search, you'll not find any thing
The gold is illusory, just like me
Fondness for foibles, fiction and fable
You've been hoodwinked, I'm unstable
I look down below and what do I see?
People coming and going just like me
They think they're different; they don't know?
We are the same, we're all rainbows
We wear our art, iridescent garb
Like sound in a seashell
We're all special
Hello and goodbye my colorful friend
We will meet again, in the end.

Sean Hunt  
Windermere  May 2015

How well do we know the “I”
That we see
With our eyes?

The “I”
That we see
With our eyes?
Is illusory
For you,
And for me

It cannot be found
Even if you search
All around

What about the
Very subtle “Me”,
The “I” that
I cannot see?
The “I” that is really
'Me'

My very subtle mind
Is the 'I'
That I really need to
Find


Sean Hunt
Windermere, October 23 20125

Homage To Sarasvati

Consort of
The One
Holding in his hand
A raised silver sword
Who helps
slice
A momentary
Middle  way
Through your day

Woman of
The spoken word
And songs that are sung
Delighting the ears
Of all who hear
Gliding upon
The wings of a swan
Wearing a heavenly
Silken suit
With two arms holding
A lute

With the swish
Of his sword
Words of wisdom
And reverence
Words of aural
Eloquence
Igniting bliss
In hearers' hearts
Which through the channels
Slowly flows,
When wisdom words are heard

Sean Hunt
Windermere  2015

Here I am to sing my song
The one I've sung For O so long
From London town
To Windermere
I sang it there
I sing it here
I know the tune
I know the words
This is my song
You've never heard

I never wanted
To be seen
So many people seemed so mean
Some would wound me with their eyes
They cut me up
With little knives
The torture chamber
Was my world
But I was grit
inside a pearl

Now I know
It's all a dream
Why do I still
Want to scream
I wonder when
That day will come
When I no longer want to run
I know the day will arrive
When peoples' eyes
Don't feel like knives

I'm not a boy
In a new country
Who doesn't want
To be seen
Now there's no mum
There's no dad
There's no one
To treat me bad
My hair is gone
My hair is grey
And soon I'll go
To my grave
This is my magic
Shadow show
Where I make tigers
This I know

Sean Hunt
Windermere Nov 13 2015

Good Fences

Oxymoronic mania
Infecting ordinary beings!
Through the ages.
“Good fences make good neighbours”
They say
So they say

Israel, one day
Will be the best
Of neighbours
With the wall all around them
From east to west

Buddies to Bedouins
Touted by Saudis
Lebanese unfreeze
Hamas 'no mas'!

We should all build
A wall!

Sean Hunt
Windermere  Jan 30 2015

God Save The Queen


What if one doesn't believe in the Queen?
What if the Queen is mean?
Atheists who sing that song
Will feel so wrong

Does she ever need saving,
from anything?
Seems a silly song to sing
Aristocratic royalty
Does not speak for me

If you have Irish blood
Flowing through your veins
And you sing this song
Your ancestors
Roll over in their graves

When Armageddon finally comes
They'll be on the wrong side of the road
And when Armageddon finally comes
They will still weigh in stones


Sean Hunt
September 2015

Gaze At A Face

Extend your gaze
At any face
For a while
Beyond the
Politically correct
Deadline

The longer you gaze
At a face
The more it changes
Eventually
You may find
You experience fright
And turn away

If you stay
And do not escape
Something new
Will be revealed for you
About the person
Behind the face

You may finally know
The part you play
In the
Person production game

Sean Hunt
Windermere April 2015