Who doesn't want to be Happy?
We all seek Happiness
We search for it from birth to death
But the true treasure of Bliss we miss
Success is Happiness, we were taught
And in this myth, we were caught
We won and we lost, we succeeded,
and we failed But Happiness we forgot
Happiness is like a Shadow, you see
The more you chase it, the further is goes away
But if you stay still to enjoy it
You will see that with you, it will stay
Happiness is not a product or a place
Nor a person that can give you Bliss
Happiness is a state of being, my friend
When will you realize this?
From the time we are born, we seek Happiness
Just as we run away from pain
We start seeking pleasure and then we seek Peace
We seek Happiness again and again
Ananda is that state of Joy
It is true Bliss without a tear
We transcend the suffering of ego, body, and mind
And we live without worry and fear
But this state of Ananda, this state of Joy
Doesn't come to us for free
Until we become conscious of the Truth
In this state we cannot be
It starts with the Realization of the Truth
Overcoming the myth in life
Renouncing all superstitions and rituals
That create misery and strife

When we go in quest, 'What is the Truth?'
It is then that we get to find
All that we were taught when we were a child
Was a lie, but we were just blind
When we are Enlightened with the Truth
It is then we get to know
We are not this body, we are not this mind
This world is just a show
We realize that we are the Divine Soul
That causes us to live until death
The day we leave this physical body
There is death, there is no breath
But we are that, the Divine Soul
To realize this is our goal
Then, we will experience true Ananda,
In Peace and Joy, we will roll
Why is it we don't realize the Truth?
Why the Truth we don't find?
Because we live as prisoners
Of the ego, body and mind
Our quest leads us to the Law of Karma
Our actions make our desires prevail
Then we realize there is no heaven and hell
It is all but a fairy tale
Today science agrees we are not the body that appears
Before this there was no synergy
It had warred with spirituality on almost all counts
But today both agree we are energy
When we become conscious of this Truth
Then the myth we leave behind
It is then that we open our spiritual eyes
We can see, we are no more blind
But soon the mind that's a monkey
Will jump from thought to thought
The Truth that we had realized
Will soon be forgot

The challenge is to stay conscious
And to observe as a witness
Only then the Truth that we have realized
Will give us Happiness
The Truth is the Truth, no one can deny
But we must be conscious of it
Otherwise though we have the knowledge
We will lose sight of it
Consciousness is not an easy thing
It's unknown to the world
Only a few are blessed to experience
What the wise sages had told
SatChitAnanda, they used to say
Consciousness, Truth, Bliss
But what this state actually was
Nobody could understand this
Consciousness of the Truth is Bliss
But how this Joy, can one find?
Unless one realizes the Truth
They remain prisoners of the mind
Ananda is that state of Bliss
It is a state of Joy that's rare
It is eternal Peace and everlasting
Bliss But you must pay the fare
You must be conscious of the Truth
If you want everlasting Peace
Then the triple suffering that makes you cry
Will, once and for all, cease
Nothing will affect you in this world
As you surrender and you accept
The Divine Leela of the Lord
You will realize you passed the test
Nothing is real, it is just like a dream
In the end, we all must go
But if we live conscious of the Truth
We will truly enjoy the show
Those who don't know, they fret and fume
They look at the sky and they cry
They try to make sense from what happens
They pray and ask God, ‘Why?’
But those who live conscious of the Truth
They live a life of Bliss
They have learnt to live in the moment
Forever in Happiness
SatChitAnanda is a seamless Joy
Being conscious living in Peace
Nothing that happens in the world
Can make our Bliss cease
For deep within we enjoy Peace
And conscious of the Truth we live
We know it’s a dream, it’s not real
We love, we laugh and we give
But is it easy to achieve this state...
This state of eternal Bliss?
Oh, no! As long as we have the mind
It’s difficult to achieve this
As long as the monkey mind in us
Creates all the junk
There can be no Ananda
Till the Monkey becomes a Monk
Then, we can live with Consciousness
With Peace, with Joy, with Bliss
Nothing that happens in this mortal world
Will steal our Happiness
SatChitAnanda is eternal Bliss
It is our ultimate goal
It comes when we transcend ego, body, mind
And we live as the Divine Soul

When I die
I don't care what happens to my body
throw ashes in the air, scatter 'em in East River
bury an urn in Elizabeth New Jersey, B'nai Israel Cemetery
But l want a big funeral
St. Patrick's Cathedral, St. Mark's Church, the largest synagogue in
        Manhattan
First, there's family, brother, nephews, spry aged Edith stepmother
        96, Aunt Honey from old Newark,
Doctor Joel, cousin Mindy, brother Gene one eyed one ear'd, sister-
        in-law blonde Connie, five nephews, stepbrothers & sisters
        their grandchildren,
companion Peter Orlovsky, caretakers Rosenthal & Hale, Bill Morgan--
Next, teacher Trungpa Vajracharya's ghost mind, Gelek Rinpoche,
        there Sakyong Mipham, Dalai Lama alert, chance visiting
        America, Satchitananda Swami
Shivananda, Dehorahava Baba, Karmapa XVI, Dudjom Rinpoche,
        Katagiri & Suzuki Roshi's phantoms
Baker, Whalen, Daido Loorie, Qwong, Frail White-haired Kapleau
        Roshis, Lama Tarchen --
Then, most important, lovers over half-century
Dozens, a hundred, more, older fellows bald & rich
young boys met naked recently in bed, crowds surprised to see each
        other, innumerable, intimate, exchanging memories
"He taught me to meditate, now I'm an old veteran of the thousand
        day retreat --"
"I played music on subway platforms, I'm straight but loved him he
        loved me"
"I felt more love from him at 19 than ever from anyone"
"We'd lie under covers gossip, read my poetry, hug & kiss belly to belly
        arms round each other"
"I'd always get into his bed with underwear on & by morning my
        skivvies would be on the floor"
"Japanese, always wanted take it up my *** with a master"
"We'd talk all night about Kerouac & Cassady sit Buddhalike then
        sleep in his captain's bed."
"He seemed to need so much affection, a shame not to make him happy"
"I was lonely never in bed **** with anyone before, he was so gentle my
        stomach
shuddered when he traced his finger along my abdomen ****** to hips-- "
"All I did was lay back eyes closed, he'd bring me to come with mouth
        & fingers along my waist"
"He gave great head"
So there be gossip from loves of 1948, ghost of Neal Cassady commin-
        gling with flesh and youthful blood of 1997
and surprise -- "You too? But I thought you were straight!"
"I am but Ginsberg an exception, for some reason he pleased me."
"I forgot whether I was straight gay queer or funny, was myself, tender
        and affectionate to be kissed on the top of my head,
my forehead throat heart & solar plexus, mid-belly. on my *****,
        tickled with his tongue my behind"
"I loved the way he'd recite 'But at my back allways hear/ time's winged
        chariot hurrying near,' heads together, eye to eye, on a
        pillow --"
Among lovers one handsome youth straggling the rear
"I studied his poetry class, 17 year-old kid, ran some errands to his
        walk-up flat,
seduced me didn't want to, made me come, went home, never saw him
        again never wanted to... "
"He couldn't get it up but loved me," "A clean old man." "He made
        sure I came first"
This the crowd most surprised proud at ceremonial place of honor--
Then poets & musicians -- college boys' grunge bands -- age-old rock
        star Beatles, faithful guitar accompanists, gay classical con-
        ductors, unknown high Jazz music composers, funky trum-
        peters, bowed bass & french horn black geniuses, folksinger
        fiddlers with dobro tamborine harmonica mandolin auto-
        harp pennywhistles & kazoos
Next, artist Italian romantic realists schooled in mystic 60's India,
        Late fauve Tuscan painter-poets, Classic draftsman *****-
        chusets surreal jackanapes with continental wives, poverty
        sketchbook gesso oil watercolor masters from American
        provinces
Then highschool teachers, lonely Irish librarians, delicate biblio-
        philes, *** liberation troops nay armies, ladies of either ***
"I met him dozens of times he never remembered my name I loved
        him anyway, true artist"
"Nervous breakdown after menopause, his poetry humor saved me
        from suicide hospitals"
"Charmant, genius with modest manners, washed sink, dishes my
        studio guest a week in Budapest"
Thousands of readers, "Howl changed my life in Libertyville Illinois"
"I saw him read Montclair State Teachers College decided be a poet-- "
"He turned me on, I started with garage rock sang my songs in Kansas
        City"
"Kaddish made me weep for myself & father alive in Nevada City"
"Father Death comforted me when my sister died Boston l982"
"I read what he said in a newsmagazine, blew my mind, realized
        others like me out there"
Deaf & Dumb bards with hand signing quick brilliant gestures
Then Journalists, editors's secretaries, agents, portraitists & photo-
        graphy aficionados, rock critics, cultured laborors, cultural
        historians come to witness the historic funeral
Super-fans, poetasters, aging Beatnicks & Deadheads, autograph-
        hunters, distinguished paparazzi, intelligent gawkers
Everyone knew they were part of 'History" except the deceased
who never knew exactly what was happening even when I was alive

                                                February 22, 1997