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Toxic yeti Dec 2018
‪I am the poor ‬
Little Tibetan girl
Looking for love
But
Always gets left
For another

I am the poor
Little Tibetan girl
Trying to live a simple life
And find
Enlightenment
But gets
Trauma instead.  

I am the poor
Little Tibetan girl
Trying to climb a ladder
But gets shot down
Every time.
Jeff Gaines Feb 2019
And now, their desperation and panic sink to an all-new low. They actually begin an attack on my sexuality, my familial relations and even my ability to have an ****** ...

  An ******?

  When you stop laughing, take into consideration that they are also regressing throughout all of this because this dysfunction that they suffer from is deeply rooted in their youth. Thus all the silly name calling and accusations that they could not possibly be able to know or prove and yet they state them as fact, like a child. I.E: A child calling out: "Your mama is a *****". Now those words come flying out from a frightened child when they really have no idea whatsoever about this target's mother. It is just an attempt to hurt. Nothing more.

But in this next bit, you can really see this desperation and panicked choice of subjects to try and use "against me", as-it-were. They don't know what else to do. Their ego is on autopilot, telling their fingers what to type ... and their ego is regressing back to childhood. Thus the childish subject matter.


(Name Deleted) Jeff the TROLL..
Has never and will never reach ****** ****** with either female or male partners.

Has never had a stable and fulfilling love life.
Will NOT and can NOT never ever love anyone UNCONDITIONALLY.
Has never been loved UNCONDITIONALLY by anyone male or female.
Has always been consumed unto bitter and fierce hatred of anyone who has!!.
A deep and bitter jealousy leading to violent hatred consume this TROLL.
Get back under your bridge Jeff.
Any replies from you in future will be deleted unread-even your long overdue apology.
AUM

 0 
 1 reply 
15h

Jeff Gaines  SOOOO MUCH FUN!

Ok, (Name Deleted) ... THAT was your most humorous YET!

Your actions are truly textbook of a person with your deep psychological issues. So ... if you will not read any more of my responses to YOUR trolling, then I needn't worry about you then sending a new volley to this one ... Hum? Good, I'm glad. This is truly getting boring. It's not too challenging to have a battle of wits with an unarmed person ... and a predictable one as well.

Sadly, we both know that your silly, over-inflated ego will NEVER allow you to NOT read something written about you. And you not responding would be a cover for your pathetic attempt to have the last word. (Again, we both know THAT won't happen)

Funnier still, you call me a troll, then go to one of my pieces and begin yet another troll campaign on the same day that you claim to not read any more of my responses.

So, you are trying to say ... "I will continue to troll/bully you, but I will read none of your responses, so I win". (hands on your hips, stomping your tiny foot on the floor, no doubt)

You say you are married? I pity this person ... your behavior is that of a post-pubescent, angry little boy with serious ego and self-esteem issues. Her life must be a living hell, as I would bet money that you are an overbearing control freak with an intense king-baby syndrome to boot. Of course, I could be completely wrong and it is SHE who wears the pants in your household and THAT is why you must come here to find some sense of "control" in your world. But that is all conjecture that I do not wish to even BEGIN to address.

Your need to appear like some type of "guru" or all-knowing person who is better than everyone else is deeply seated, so I think it started very early in your life.

As I've said ... 'TEXTBOOK".

So textbook in fact, that I have decided to make this entire exchange into a piece about trolls/bullies and bullying. But don't worry about that ... I will leave it up long enough for you to read it, leave one of your hysterical troll responses to further prove my observations ... and I will have had the last word.

Then, predictably, you will write something about me on your page, then block me so that I can't respond (thus making your poor, decimated ego feel like it had the last word), which will not only further prove my observations about you, but it will lead folks over to my page to read my piece about you.

It'll be fun!

Now, on to your latest huffing and puffing:

"troll"

Once again, you accuse me of something that YOU are guilty of.

Once again, you are crying about me doing something that YOU did first. (I can't stop laughing about this. Just like a bully to cry and whine when he himself is punched in the nose and doesn't receive the response that he is seeking when HE does the punching!)

*** - Kettle/Gander - Goose, little man.

I am only guilty of responding to your trolling ... which is my right. Because, as is well established, you began this little soiree when you called me an "Unreconstructed alcoholic with no personal sense of shame" in a comment about a piece I had written about a friend that had recently died! Sadly pathetic, indeed.

Then, as I've stood up to you, you have spiraled down, like a burning airplane, in your pathetic child-like name calling and such to the point where you did schoolyard (at best) name-calling ("Electronic ****"? I LOVED THAT ONE!) and attacked my race, my religion and political stances (I picture you, a terrified little schoolboy, trembling in a schoolyard, shouting these things as you wee your pants in fear).

Then. you actually threaten me with physical violence (punching me in the nose). Now ... when NONE of that ridiculous posturing and panic-stricken chest-beating has worked, you take a jab at my sexuality and interpersonal relationships?

You are the one with "No personal sense of shame" here. You are publicly getting more and more pathetic and your ego won't even let you see that! Your imaginary pedestal is way too high, (Name Deleted). The fall from there is really going to hurt you.

Attacking my sexuality, love life and relationships?

Really?

There are few straws left for you to grasp at, huh?

Again, having never met me, something you couldn't POSSIBLY make accurate conjectures about. ANYONE reading this would laugh, knowing where this is truly coming from.

My FAVORITE was the bit about me never achieving an ******! It took me SEVERAL minutes to stop laughing about that one.

How old are you (Name Deleted)? 12 ... 13, maybe?

No matter your actual birth age, these silly claims and insinuations are definitely NOT those of a grown-aged man. They are straight out of the playbook of an early teen. To make such an unfounded accusation is nearly disturbing on SO many levels.

Wow ... just ... "WOW".

You spew them from your imaginary ivory tower, the one that makes you believe that you are above everyone else, so they MUST be facts, right?

And in true (Name Deleted) form, you state them like facts to the public.

A public that can readily see that it is all coming from a wee little man, standing on an imaginary pedestal trying to convince the world that he is a "somebody". You should have taken my earlier advice and just closed your mouth. But it is all too late.

Deep nasal breaths (Name Deleted) ... DEEP nasal breaths.

I've no need to respond to this silly notion with tales of my ****** bravado or adventures, nor my past love life. That is none of your business and a true gentleman NEVER kisses and tells.

Besides, THAT is the action of schoolboys and men who are lacking in the "endowment" department ... as is attacking OTHER men about these issues.

I won't bring my family into this either. (Taking shots at my familial relationships (Name Deleted)? Hmmm, I wonder if this a Freudian confession of your own family issues. But I won't go there. It's a can of worms best left on the shelf, I should think. It does pose some possible explanations for your behavior and persona though, doesn't it?)

So ... I hope you stick to your word and "not read/delete" this so that I needn't respond again. But, (long sigh) I highly doubt that you will. Your life AND your behavior are CONTROLLED by your fully delusional ego.

Watch for my upcoming piece, which will feature this exchange for ALL of the world to see. It will be cut and pasted verbatim, and I will even add a few additional notes.

I'm going to use it to help educate others on how to recognize and handle egotistical, cowardly, wanna-be bullies such as yourself.

Please, allow me to at least thank you for writing all these responses and demonstrating in such a textbook fashion, how your type acts and reacts and even letting us see inside of you a bit, thus letting us see what makes you tick.

And most importantly ... THANKS for the laughs.



This last one is where we can see the bottom of their barrel. As predicted, they can NOT “not read/erase” something that is written about them. Their ego would NEVER allow this. They MUST read and respond because THEY must have the last word. So, we are back to schoolyard names like “**** wipe”, attacking my sexuality and chest beating by attempting to assert that I have somehow “FAILED”. (You see? They HAVE to win, so it is easier to just let them think that they did.) After this, they can only lash out with slurs against my Mother and such. I think I've made my point here.

And now you, dear Reader, will have seen nearly the complete downward spiral of a bully/hater/troll when you stand up to them. I thank them for their 'help” in making this new piece and then show that I am the better man and offer to let them have the last word. I've no idea what that will be, but if you would like to see it, just go to the piece titled “Message To A Friend” (Link in notes below), it will be there soon enough. Their desperation to be dominant is so readily apparent here, it is sad. As I said, they can't help it. Their ego is on autopilot because these issues are so deeply ingrained in their self.



(Name Deleted) To Jeff the TROLLISH LOSER.
WOW so many words just to prove you are a piece of white liberal **** wipe.
You must really hate life with your filthy mouth spewing out
non stop TROLL NONSENSE--as if its a Fight or a Battle to be fought with any stranger just to prove you are a MAN!!!.
WELL JEFF YOUVE FAILED.
YOU are not a MAN but you do have a Male Body.
Never will be a Man.
Always a sexless TROLL.
.
 0 
 1 reply 
13h

Jeff Gaines Well, (Name Deleted), I want to sincerely thank you for all of this. You don't realize it now, but you have helped me to compose something that will, in turn, help other people. It is very admirable. I/we have taken something awful and made it into something positive.

Balance in the universe doesn't get any better than that. Besides, from here, there's not much left but you making verbal attacks on my Mother and such. Even I won't let you reduce yourself to that.

I wish you well. I hope all of your dreams and wishes come true, and moreover, I hope you get the help you need to finally find peace. A peace that will let you stop trying to belittle others with your condescension and bullying demeanor. I truly hope that you can release the tortures that keep you with this agonizing persona. It must be horrible for you.

And again, THANK YOU!

Leave any message you wish after this so that you can sleep well, knowing that you had the last word. I know how important that is to you and your ego, so have it ... as a gift from me to you in appreciation for all of your help here. I promise ... I won't respond. It's all you, Dude. My job is done here.



This one, sent to me on a completely different page/post, involves the “truce”. They did this on the comment section of another piece called “I'm Sorry If You Miss Me” (Link in notes below). They couldn't do this where we had been in our volley, that might appear as a weakness to someone who'd been watching it all.

They offer an olive branch (for all that's worth), but with it, they also offer to take me to enlightenment and save me somehow. None of this is sincere in ANY way. It is once again, them, trying to condescend to me that I am in need of THEIR help. That I am less, and they are more. Just as I described in the beginning of Part I.

(Also note that upon realizing that this has all been an analyzation of them and their behavior, they attempt to spin it around that it is THEM analyzing ME. Once again, textbook predictability)

If for some silly reason, I took this “truce”, they would feel that they have dominated me and nothing would change. As you read it, you will see just what I mean, especially in the way they go on and on about how accomplished they are at 'helping” others and how they can lead me to some new and better existence, as I am such a “sick human being”. The megalomaniac is really showing through here:



(Name Deleted) Dearest TROLL,
TRUCE?

Though you so obviously write vicious TROLL Gibberish you so obviously cant spell the word gibberish correctly.Not very Self referential eh?.
Diminishes your projected self mage of being a 'nice guy' somewhat eh?.
I have analysed your crippling problem and can offer you the only way out of it.
The presence of an individual Mind superimposed in strategic command over all your brain centres in the last hour before birth has led to you being NON Self Realised(which is your problem basically).
You don't know your Cosmic Identity--and the Mind in your head has led you to believe that you are not the Individual Isness but are the Mind created operating device the Conditioned Identity.
This replaces the ID and takes control over the Glucose and Oxygen supply to all Brain centres from the Individual Isness.
Send me a Poste Restante address and I will send you(for FREE)a copy of my only CD--on which I play Alto Saxophone and Alto Clarinet andAmplified C Silver Concert Flute and my wife who is my life companion plays Electric Bass.
We use the name Maneesha which is Sanskrit for Beyond Enlightenment.
The CD which is called 'Rolling Home' is as recorded--every track in one take-no electronic messing around!.
It was recorded under strict Tibetan Tantric rules of performance--I was a Flute playing Pujari in a Temple on the Burning Ghat in Varanasi where I played for Hindu Cremations for 6 years in the 1970s.
The intention is that the listener--you--will become Mindless .According to the sacred texts of the Vedas one must become Mindless as that is the only openly accepted way to reach the final end of Yoga Meditation.
Temporary union with the Isness of the Unverse.
Yes I know you will go off into paroxysms of laughter at my very absurdwritings but I must offer as you are a very sick human being--and your TROLLISH sickness will only get much worser as you age.
I have offered.
You will ridicule me.
Your choice.



And there you have it, dear Reader. A (disturbing) look, into a very disturbed mind. I am not, nor would I ever condone or recommend doing what I have done here. I did this for you. I had the idea while reading one of their demeaning comments on someone's daily. So, when they came to my daily … I put my hook in the water. The best thing you can do is give no reaction. Soon enough, they will go off in search of the attention they so desperately need and leave you in peace. As I have shown you here, engaging them brings a never-ending string of buckets … buckets FILLED with waste-of-time.

All you need to do is keep in mind this one simple thing when they write horrible things in your comment sections, or you encounter one in your life …

Something you are doing, or have done, is SO amazingly awesome, that it brought out ALL that darkness in them!

Just ignore them and they will go find someone else to pick on. Give them an “LOL” and ignore all that follows, or just delete their comment and block them. Your time is limited and so very precious. Don't give one second of it to these types of people. It simply isn't worth it.

Besides … You have MORE amazing things to accomplish!

                   Big Love,
                           ~Jeff
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2016
i never understood why poetry books were and are so expensive, there's Darwin lounging smoking a cigarette listening to some Victorian erich segal, e. l. james, diana gabaldon or a loretta chase - while imaging, well, you know, why the the Bayeux tapestry represents the Normans invasion with humanoids, hence the pressure on artists to follow-up with self-portraits, otherwise it ended up with two monkeys ******* in his head... but such writers are equivalent to manual labourers, they don't care if their books aren't finished, they are equivalent of bricklayers, ploughing the fields of blanks unearthing potatoes and more potatoes (words)... some Chinese poet-drunkard trying to escape Tibetan meditation writes a haiku... and that's about it, he says laughing at the moon: 'this is bothersome! for one thing our ancestors chose a ****** difficult phonetic encoding, maybe this was xenophobia in disguise, but the Ming dynasty project is nothing compared to how we write she and shin, no amount of labour will be as effective as our pictographs, some say this is a defence against invaders, and i believe them, they got as far as ***** trading with us, now we have cheap steel and Russian allies... forget the great wall, the real defence against invaders and accusations of xenophobia is in the encoding, which also means we can **** the mathematical encoding like an elephant ******* a chicken, with its trunk, blowing air into it so the chicken ends up flying, along with the ostrich'.

when i write crude i know i'm exhausting a poem,
or at least the introduction, to a poem,
but such are crude comparisons, they tell you when
to stop the flux of the unintended direction -
but i agree with him, western powers abuse
the haiku mechanism, back in the east the haiku
appears from blank, partly due to that Tibetan
baldy blubber in later age in India -
in the west we have the crown of myrrh, and due
to the overload of sensual stimulation with that,
and the lashing prior to the crucifixion,
an over-exited state of sensuality, meaning more
cognitive outpourings, hence not one haiku
in a year about some freckled salmon jumping
over the moon with a momentary diamond of snow
on its tail... but a whole list of them...
without any verbal tradition to remember either...
take the Tibetan lounging and the Hebrai hanging,
why did we ever take the latter up?
well, question answered, the west is quietly shunning
the church's influence, all you need is a Buddha
head in your living room and it's primo aprilis -
well, not it's Prima Aprilis, *Prima dies Aprilis
,
it's a jokers day in Poland, i experienced one myself,
you run around the town drenching each other in water,
or as i call it, baptising each other, for jokes,
buckets of water... in the west it's just a toys 'r' us
advert owning a water-gun, but you hardly see
children in western society, esp. in England,
they're exposed to overt-sexuality prematurely,
they're stiff on the monkey bars, stiff on bicycles,
stiff playing football, stiff climbing trees (if ever),
stiff or coffin like only ready to play the one game they
know best: bullying and make-up, and short-skirts,
and karaoke dreaming all the leaves are brown,
and the sky is grey, i've been for a walk, on a winter's day,
i'd be safe from walking, if i wasn't in L.A., california
dreaming, on such a winter's day
, it's only
outdoors if there's a prize involved, not the smell of grass
or cow ****... strap me up Scott'e, i'm about to venture
into the grand world wearing a ******... anyway,
you never write more than one haiku a year...
but before i do a Robert Frost as cited by Jack Spicer
"any ****** fool can get into a poem but it takes
a poet to get out of one"
, citation? helen: a revision
part of the San Francisco Renaissance mini movement.
but today's panorama show, about the exit vote,
Hilarious **** being investigated by the F.B.I., Trump
turned into a T-Rex in a children's book - tiny hands,
big quiff - and in a global community where slavery
is frowned at, piracy is not really, the vain hopes
of former glories, listening to old farts reminiscent of
the empire esp. in the north is like listening to a fake ******,
my grandparents could say the same ******* in Poland,
the loss of the steel industry, much due to the extinction
of communism in Europe, feminism and the soft-industry
jobs of primarily advertisements, the manly jobs?
they're all Chinese... why blame eastern europeans?
you like your ******* chicken chow mein you little *****?
well i'm certainly liking my korma chicken curry, eat it!
an economy that prizes only profit and not continuity
exporting everything to King Kong Mao will look for
scapegoats anywhere, i'm surprised it's not the Jews this
time, and it's so funny, i mean, born & prop'ah bred
Anglo, imported from Pakistan, oh yeah, "prop'ah",
now they're the best mates, once master and the slave,
now two masters, hand in hand, should be a joke
poster like the socialist fraternal kiss (the capitalist
fraternal kiss is - you guessed it! mouth kissing an ****!),
so you have to really trim the curtains of the ethnic
dress of King Abdullah bin Abdulaziz Al Saud to get
a selfie with Tony Blair and Bush Jr. getting stuck in -
at a time when no Londoner feels safe outside
of England, esp. in the north, perhaps in Scoot-land
(three years up there, i built up an affinity with
them against Jacky Uno and the flag,
right now i'm burning it in my head, ah, for scrap jokes);
and then they box in the idea that whoever earns money
can't do what the hell he wants with it... listen...
after not being given the Marshall Plan option, and instead
given an ideal like communism i think it's best some
of the money heads east to fund the post-Gorbachev plan
(why was Sweden included in the plan? Sweden
was neutral! they were the myth-machine generators
of ******'s late discovery of the ability to bleach your hair!),
and why would i spend my money in Southend anyway?
or Blackpool on candyfloss? community?
you want a community? how the hell is community going
to work... this ain't a village, this a globalised world...
plus, why associate yourself with vermin?
and all this is going around while the rats from
respective parties jump the boat and leave the public
to blame themselves... but that's how it is, in this
schizoid metaphor, bilingualism is extreme as much as
mono-lingual psychology, but less rooted and historic
and continuity biased... happy those who know only
one tongue or three and more... with bilingualism
you become a psychological mongrel, while others are mongrels
of the flesh, soul-mongrel breeding is harsh,
you're neither here, nor there, and your idea of heaven
becomes something like: wake me up again speaking
Norwegian, because at least i can identify in that region
something that isn't here or there - but being first
generation and remembering to speak the mother,
i wasn't going to do the solo ethnic cleansing and speak
only one tongue... if i did... you think i'd be speaking with
my father and his broken English? ha! *nie!
Micheal Wolf Feb 2013
Phoenician to  Aramaic 950 BC the start of modern writting for others to see
Then Hebrew to  Moabite then Phrygian as well around 800 BC
The written word was now afoot, oh Ammonite as well

Then a split as often comes between one arab and another
Old North Arabian and Old South Arabian argue with each other
So moving west Etruscan came at 700 BC
Then Umbrian and North Picene you heard of them today?

As Lepontic and Tartessian tried to talk to others
Now we start to get a grip and influence the modern
From Lydian to Carian,  Thracian to Venetic
All around the 6th century BC people started jotting

Old Persian came and went Latins still around
Then South Picene and Messapian to Gaulish
Language now ruled the world and all the ways we wrote it

Mixe–Zoque some say isnt really true
But Oscan and Iberian followed on through
So Meroitic,  Faliscan at 300 BC came next
Then Volscian and Middle Indo-Aryan or Prakrit the Ashoka calls it
Then one thats still around Tamil you might know it

Christianity was on its way as Galatian was used
Pahlavi and Celtiberian al cald pre antiquity
Lets move on till after Christ and language moves full on

Bactrian and Proto-Norse in northen europe common
Cham and Mayan, Gothic and Ge'ez and accepted Arabic
Christs been dead 300 yrs and language starts to flourish

Primitive Irish now exists and an odd one called Ekoi
Try to remember though its still only the 4th century

Georgian now is used in a  church in Bethlehem
A bible is written  in Armenian
Kannada in Halmidi
West Germanic to that becomes  Old High German
English now for the first time starts to rear its head

Old English to Korean  Tocharian to  Old Irish
In parts of southern England they even speak Cornish  
Centuries before Pol *** there is now Cambodian
Others speaking Udi, Telugu and Tibetan
Now language is getting modern

Old Malay in the far east to Welsh in my back yard
It wasnt long before the world was writting many forms
Mandarin and English now are common place
A miriad of people and language in their states

So venture forth to foreign lands and visit as a guest
Take a pen and paper to help you on your quest
If you can cross your legs or draw a beer you really cant go wrong
Remember you dont speak their tongue its you not them thats dumb!!!
Àŧùl Aug 2019
Kashmir is not just beautiful
It was also free of violence,
Not too far back in history,
That did occur just 7 to 8 centuries ago.

Then they poured out of Central Asia,
Hordes getting bigger with each wave,
Eliminate they did the original people.

In 1320, it was Zulju raiding Kashmir,
Then Rinchana, a Tibetan Büđđhïst refugee, he took over.

Rinchana had Shah Mir as his Minister,
Shah Mir persuaded Rinchana to Islam.

After Rinchana, his son was set to be the ruler,
However, Shah Mir killed this lawful successor.

In 1339, Shah Mir became the first Muslim ruler of Kashmiri lands,
Initially, they did not dare harm the original Hïnđū inhabitants.
Then it was just Muslim kings for few centuries and slowly the Hïnđū heaven slipped into Muslim hands.

Now we know what is the ground reality,
The demography became Islamized over centuries,
All arts and crafts stand dwarfed by violence,
What they aim is an Islamic State, an Islamic Earth.
Islamization in Kashmir took place during 13th to 15th century and led to the eventual decline of the Kashmir Shaivism in Kashmir.

My HP Poem #1758
©Atul Kaushal
Westley Barnes Dec 2018
Your soul, which loves my own,
Is woven with it into an old Tibetan rug.

Strand by strand, these enamored colours,
Stars, that courted each other across heaven's length.

Our feet are resting on this treasure
Stitches numbering in the thousands.

Sweet desert son on your musk plant throne,
How long has your mouth kissed my own
and cheek to cheek has time in colour woven us?

-Else Lasker-Schüler (Translation : Westley Barnes, 2018)
This is my translation of the poem "Ein alter Tippettepich" by the German poet Else Lasker-Schüler (1869-1945). Lasker-Schüler's work became synonymous in her own lifetime with the German Expressionist movement, and her work was featured in the editorials of many of her contemporaries, including Karl Kraus (1874-1936)  in his journal Der Fackel. As a Jewish author and illustrator famed for her bohemian lifestyle during the Weimar Republic, Lasker-Schüler fled to Jerusalem in 1934.

The poem, originally published in 1910, is in the public domain.
CK Baker Aug 2017
the banners are blowing steady
(fully extended in the hot august wind)
contemporary in style
tightly trimmed
and all gloriously dressed
in the latest colors and hues
it’s a fleeting distraction though
as the caskets
and children
and grieving widows
are rolled steadily across
the burning tarmac

it’s the beginning
of that inevitable
two part proceeding
a skotoma for the ages
delusionary in nature
rich in grays
and eerily reminiscent
of that foreign reign
clipped in silence
with dark roots of fear
set deep in the bowels
of a chapter
of unimaginable sin

indifference as pronounced
as the accompanying salutes
haphazard sentiments that are
cloaked in the horror
of endless
aborted days
forgotten buggies
and bunkers
and rat packs
how could the switch
be set so wrong?


it’s truly an illusion
(this way of the world)
simple indulgence can grow
so beastly and consuming
try telling the tale to the
tibetan monks
or broad peak sherpas
(those boys know how to get it done!)
how to bask in
the ice cold waters
how to savor
the lava hot falls
couldn’t the others
have figured this one out?


the flags have settled
at half mass
and are tinted
in a charred yellow brown
the lifeless dreams
and inspirations now
in the rear view
leif running solo
(exempt of his trusted gunners)
ready for the numbered lines
his eyes open
to the ever changing
enemy at hand
“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”
   —The Serenity Prayer

I. Heron

I was born arrow-straight, built for flying,
Three skipping stones past Otter Creek, hollow
Bones blanketed by slate gray, blue stones slight
And callused by well-worn prayers and shallow
Swells of minnows — subterranean aches —
And water cold on yellow scales, hardened
By the calamity of sunsets, lakes —
The drowning weight of too many pardons.
Dip low, tend this broken shoreline sweetly,
Spread shadowed wings and break honeyed silence.
Forgiveness take flight at dusk, discreetly
Written in psalms. Tepid soul find balance
Between the calm, a resting river space
This old trembling mind cannot displace.

II. Quetzal

After the storm, the chaos and quiet
Meet like dew poised on timid fingertips
And shallow grasses to quell the riot
Stirring inside. Fix fragments of this ship
Made of broken parts. My soul’s petrichor:
Inhale failure with a benediction
That fills tired lungs with bravery, before
Nature proposed expectations — fiction
Taut and mended by truth. The earth exhales
In breaths refreshed by rain, accompanied
By loudening trills and harmonious tales —
The tremor of circumstance, and the need
To continue existence like the weeds
That grow in sidewalks despite human greed.

III. The Pelican and the Gull

American Magicicadas choose
To surface seventeen years after birth
For the purpose of recreation. The Blue
Pelican cannot quietly unearth
The patterns of the tide without the gull,
But she does so with tireless trials
And the moon at her back — the lunar pull
Shaping stray shells for a little while.
Twenty-one years of tawny solitude
Shattered by innate desires, buried
Deep by stubborn aches, and kindly allude
To breathing for the first time. Weight carried
And lifted by rekindled hope, reaching
Sands like a button shell kissing the beach.

IV. Kingfisher

I pondered self-acceptance before diving
Into seas uncharted, with the patience
Of Tibetan monks softly harvesting
Grains of sand on an abandoned shore. Since
Emptiness is impermanence, we change
Like shifting seas suspended in nature,
Born from the crease of God’s hand — rearranged
Flaws bound by circumstance. Come close. Nurture
This silent heart into awakening.
Beyond these gray waters surges the sun,
Hopeful in the wake of a newfound spring,
Ochre and alizarin. We become —
Aware that no one saves us but ourselves,
With self-worth rising in tremendous swells.
ConnectHook Sep 2015
ཆོས་ཀྱི་རྒྱ་མཚོ་

Bards of the bardo, hear my lay;
ye glacial Himalayas, sway.
Raise a warming toast in sake,
while my mystic muse gets cocky.

You who seek enlightenment
unto whom these lines are sent
open wide your spirit’s portal
(you – who are not yet immortal)

as we weigh a departed soul
and hurl a vajra – let it roll
with tantric thunderclap appeal
while startled Bodhisattvas reel.

Turn from the heights with sober eyes
and under less celestial skies
let us scrutinize the preacher,
pop-star and Tibetan teacher:

Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche
(born in a manger – so they say)
grew up deep in Eastern mountains,
fed by esoteric fountains.

Soon he became a monkish abbot
painting thankas, chanting sutra
in a saffron-colored habit
high above the Brahmaputra.

Later, the teacher headed west
suckling Maya‘s milky breast
selling used mantras on the way
to devas who came out to play.

Eventually, in Colorado
he rocked the Rockies, thrilled the Beats
Bringing to his own weird bardo
bolder moves and tipsy feats.

Crazy wisdom’s drunken master
clothed in smartly elegant style,
steered disciples toward disaster –
partying gleefully all the while.

He tantalized the Tantric flirts
by seeking Buddhahood up their skirts;
preaching, as their morals sunk
from The Tibetan Book of the Drunk

Meditating, glass in hand
life of the party (of the ******)
the master mingled with dakinis
deep in the bardo of red bikinis.

Leaving behind a score of tulkus
empty bottles, broken parts
books of empty words that fools choose
after charlatans steal their hearts,

Trungpa Rinpoche went down
shaman of shame, hung-over clown
and tried to mend his Karmic puncture
where the left-hand paths make juncture:

Axis of the All, he spoke
a massive Himalayan joke.
Chogyam’s sacred shambala
brought last laughs to the last hurrah.

When his Dharma-dream was ended
Trungpa woke in hell, a snowball;
karmic punctures still unmended
prisoner of the Bardo Thodol

Should you doubt the truths I tell,
the facts are documented well.
Crazy, isnt it? What we’ll take
from vajra-vendors on the make.
Limked version with images:
https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2015/04/11/vajra-cast-from-golden-heights/
GR  Aug 2017
Tibetan Monk (Tanka)
GR Aug 2017
clad in a red robe
a tibetan monk chuckles
intrigued by this world
filled with hope and suffering
wrapped neatly in illusion

© 2017

— The End —