Incense smoke lingers heavily in the air,
attempting to mask the smell of stale beer
and spilled **** water.
Arrest warrants hang with straight A report cards
and dated paintings I used to call art.

You and I, woven in between soft and stained sheets
on my hand-me-down mattress.
Our clothes, thrown into heaps on the floor.
I stare at faded, falling posters while you trace my scars
left by a pair of hands before yours.

Buddha watches over dusty photo albums and
half read books I will never finish as
Mary hangs off your neck
watching over an unfinished me.

We lay underneath burned out bulbs of ceiling
string lights listening to scratched CDs skip,
sharing a sweet cigarette.
I know you and I are not forever.
like these walls I have                                                          out­grown.

Cultivating right
Speech, like weeding one's garden:
One has ***** hands.

And there I was laying, my head in his lap. And there he was looking like some sort of Buddha. That's how it went, with me looking up and him looking down. That moment summarized everything we were. I aspired to his level, respect, superiority; he tried to change my ways. There were times when I believed in his power, his creed, and was avid about it, about him. But there were times I struggled to make sense of it all. Was it really what I wanted and what I stood for? There's a time when you are losing your religion where you still go through the motions for a bit, either from fear of change or in a desperate attempt to regain your former fervor. But eventually going through the motions becomes a chore, and then there isn't a Buddha anymore.

We as humans tend to put off living,
Forgetting to take the time to smell the proverbial roses.
You know the ones that grow just outside your front door?
Take a few minutes, close your eyes and begin to breathe again.

Celebrating life each day is a rite of passage.
It’s a virtue our creator gifted us with.
It makes ones soul fulfilled and allows us to project a positive energy.
So reach out…And feel the earth move while your inner self embraces the Universe

If you have forgotten how to listen to the birds song or the grasshoppers chirp,
Or to observe a sleepy orange caterpillar crawl to the next branch,
Or watch the cutthroat trout sip a spent mayfly from the surface of a stream,
Then the earth is calling you to return to your conception!!


Stop dreaming of the magical rose garden and enjoy the roses blooming outside your windows today - **Dale Carnegie

"Under the tree sat Buddha, meditating with his fear.
He grew to understand how to face Mara, less his habitual red ears.

The red ears of resentment,
The red ears from fright,
The red ears that pushed him from tranquility to fight or flight.

A similar story comes to mind,
One I know all too well.

The story of mine is a tale to tell,
As long as judgements forever set sail.

Leaving the moment for the past, I see a hateful boy.
Distant from the world around me, so confused & annoyed.

Transformed from my façade of impersonation, to the feeling of being lost.
Stemming from the monotonous & everlasting worriment in thought.

From mediation I understand, what red ears did to me.
The red ears transformed my thought process,
Into someone I'd grow to see.

From growth came lessons, and new habits from within.
To sit with perceived problems patiently takes courage & a half Buddha grin.

A smile to acknowledge,
An acknowledgment of growth.
For the one I was to who I've become had to happen, as if renewal were a must.

The change was essential, & shall stand the test of time,
from the old wondering & circumventing rollercoaster thought ride.

The form of wonder we know all too well, that steals us from here & now.
I wish we could all learn how to live presently & apart from the modern crowd.

Tranquility was foreign to me, however the possession of is a must.
A must that changes a boy to man, which should happen before skin to dust.

While undergoing transformation, a man will come to see,
That who he wanted to be is he, while listening under the tree.

As I sit back to reflect, I can now understand.
I understand how the test of time transformed me from boy to man."

You are the cause of your own suffering*
I tell myself everyday,
but I still bathe in silt and shame.
Rinse. Recycle. Repeat.

I tell myself everyday
how mundane it is to be redundant:
Rinse. Recycle. Repeat.
Everybody that looks at me sees

how mundane it is to be redundant.
You only get one masterpiece;
everybody that looks at me sees
that's not a rainbow, it's an oil spill.

You only get one masterpiece,
but I still bathe in silt and shame -
that's not a rainbow, it's an oil spill.
You are the cause of your own suffering.

If you are always gloomy when everything looks normal
If you are in dilemma what is right and what is wrong
If you are not able to decide which way to go
If you have been thinking of that freedom you want,

Then remember it’s not always poor to be unhappy
Many enlightened masters have felt this usually
Thus they chose their own path to find out the reason
And finally they were there with their principles, when they finished their path
Their path towards enlightenment,

Don’t be upset when you see others happy and you couldn’t make
Remember that they are following those principles provided
And you have rather chose your own path

Your own path towards your enlightenment

An ant repeatedly told
she loved him so much,
he wasn't astonished a bit,
knew life was incredible
it's a pin point of *****
to dull the existential pain,
how would he forget this ant
if not an ancestor,she may become
a descendant, a bond for ages.

"The grain of sugar
you allowed me to take
made me look sweet as I
shared it with my buddies,
though you aren't aware of it"

A cloud told that
she once made him stand
under the umbrella of
her cool shade, and that
experience did transform her.
"So tired you were
your eyes were dreaming;
while being dismembered
by an adamant wind,
inch by inch, I struggled
to hold myself together
till you could find a
new shade, before I am dissolved
by external compulsion.
Those moments I lived for
the love of you, so pure
expecting nothing but
fulfilling my karmic, dictate,
gave me the insight,
to remain a cloud in spirit, ever
though not in my form any more.

Your songs of loneliness
made me overwhelm,
I am essentially water
that flows towards the ocean,
containing meanings dense
the song you have sung
in intense pain, was
an experience; walking through
glowing  embers of coal,
for all who commingled
with my flow to ocean."

The tree had a rare radiance
it told him pleased,"Like me
you too have the crown,
a cloud of dancing thought waves,
that has silver lines,all the time
you sit and contemplate,
Every one has a Buddha
reclining inside,if you care
to think the way out of all miseries
he would be awake and smiling,
the compassion incarnate.
I appreciated what you did
that marked, I thought
the beginning of the light
that drives the ignorance of
darkness out from mind.
I did it by showering flowers
were you aware?"

"Karuna" she whispered as if to
emphasize it's preciousness
"Compassion" is what the most,
the world now lacks"
It could make the world a garden of love,
That's what reflected on me
when you sat underneath me
and gazed in to the far galactic
turbulence that is a saga continues,
how many moments of gold,
we were gifted one by one!
"Karuna" is the jewel, the Buddha
the enlightened one's words
did sow in us, with the touch
of a transforming thunder."