Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Homunculus Feb 24
Breathing in, I dwell
deeply in this moment
Breathing out, I know,
it is the perfect moment

Breathing in, I see
it is an only moment
Breathing out, a moment
that's truly one of a kind

For appearances may
delude one into thinking
"This is nothing new
it has all happened before"

But the discrete events of THIS "now"
have never happened before
in precisely the same way
and they never will again

and though a moment may
be filled with pain or anger or despair
Just like the moment itself
these will also disappear

So too, a moment may
be filled with rapture, bliss, and joy
but as with the moment again
these will also disappear

Breathing in with this in mind
to what is there to cling?
Breathing out with this in mind
from what am I repelled?

Breathing in with this awareness,
I see each moment is a miracle
Breathing out with this awareness
a smile sweeps across the face

Breathing in, I'm here
Breathing out, I'm now
Breathing in I don't desire
Breathing out I'm free
For our accomplished teacher who has shed his mortal coil. The man who taught us how to embody peace, compassion, love, respect, and joy. Namo Thầy, namo!
Kagey Sage Nov 2021
Learn to write again
learn to type right
first time in 3 decades of life

I want to write closer to when I think
speed time, to slow it
make it feel like I do more
like I was in my teens or early twenties
****, these days 3 go by and it feels like one

I count my blessings to build confidence
Life grows more cruel but
I might win if I act like already won
Chaos magick, nay we do not speak of it

You forgot to pretend
to suspend quests for rationality
No longer moved by a book or film
We conditioned to be unconditioned
only to realize we ought to been wistfully in the herd
the whole time  
We're the Bodhisattvas forestalling enlightenment
to get drunk with the butchers
after decades of sober high ground
We're the over-analyzers
lamenting our anachronisms in self-assuring
new philosophies
Either fully embrace one or drop out of being smart at all
the only tolerable choice to start to enjoy life again
No, no it's a false dichotomy
I want to be the eternal well-wisher
no matter the decadent displays

The shared dream of a soon to be future
We scavenge and defend
through pockmarked streets
make shelters amid crumbling concrete
We forgot how to imagine a secure society
Measured expectations and social safety nets
they took it all away along with our balanced serotonin
I used to get all jazzed up over a library book
but now the images promise us much more bliss
right around the corner

But it never soothes
never comes close  
We cannot buy the contentment you claimed to offer
so we'll get it in collapse
We'll be sniped, starved, and deranged
but the thought of that life
makes us whisper excitedly to ourselves
"finally something has happened to me."

I, the eternal well-wisher
will wag no more fingers at preachers of death
Neither will I become them nor pity them
Ellis Oct 2021
I am from incense
From water and candles
I am from the three prostrations
needed to enter the baai san (prayer room).
(cold, smooth, watchful tapestries)
I am from the pecan shells, the tree whose nuts
and leaves left small hills of muddy layers

I'm from ginger to contacts
From Ly to Tran
I'm from the headstrong
and the never-wrong
From mou jung! (useless)
and hou gaawi! (how obedient)
I'm from Nama Amituofo with Cha Lua
and Taking Refuge in the Gurus,
Buddha,
Dharma,
and Sangha

I’m from Sugar Land and Bellaire,
2% milk and Pork Sung sandwiches.
From Dad forcing my brother to stare at green
to fight our genetic astigmatism
to Mom making us chant mantras
with rosary beads on the way to school

In the neighborhood pool,
I pushed away floating junebugs
I am those moments—
Chalk on the cul-de-sac
Using George Ella Lyon's poem of the same name, this is her poem but as it pertains to me. Credit goes to her for the beautiful framework she's provided from many students practicing poetry.
Dresden Sep 2021
Your smile is a fond memory
Though I remember it faintly
I care about your happiness
Sending warm regards
and thoughtfulness
May you be happy and have peace of mind
May your happiness flourish
and your heart feel kind
May you appreciate your feelings of joy
and simply remember
Your peace is a choice
Still **** at writing, but a meditation practice encouraged me to write this one out. Although it takes a lot of practice, I am beginning to feel joy, not only for those I love, but for those I have had bad history with as well.
Kenshō Jul 2021
There was a man who had been abandoned at an early age and left to be cared by a monk at a monastery.

In his early years of adult hood he was so depressed he decided he would climb a mountainous rock and from it, he would jump.

He would die, and the pain would be over.

As he was eyeing his rock and seeing there was no way, he sat defeated.

And then his eyes caught glance of a monkey, effortlessly climbing the rock, all the way up. And all the way back down.

He knew he could mimick that climbing style and make his way to the top as well.

Slowly he climbed, tracing every movement the monkey had made, perfect.

AS he reached the top, he cried from the pain of the physical.. and the emotional..

At that moment, that was a roar

A huge roar of cheering.

From below the people were cheering and saying "He is a world class rock climber!"

They thought he had decided to climb it for sport, his skill seemed to display.

Confused with emotion, pain and elation, he bowed and safely returned to the ground.

Where after his first climb on that precipitous rock, he decided to persue rock climbing from then on..
reserved
Juliana Jul 2021
I opened the gifts one by one,
knowing that the softness I felt
under the antique Santa Claus paper
was yet another bundle of fabric,
more clothes to add
to my ever-expansive wardrobe.

One by one, the patterns were revealed to me:
some plain black cotton,
a Paris print with a sparkly pink tower,
paper cutouts the size of my favorite dolls,
and at last, a sewing machine.

I remember a roomless memory,
my mother and I hovered over the machine,
the internet failing to teach us
how to maneuver the thread.

“We’ll try again later,” she said.

Now, I open the drawer under my bed,
remove a dust-covered box,
running my fingers along the top of it.
I remove the as-new machine,
my failed future.
I walk to my computer, switch taps
from a Buddhism study guide
to an empty Google Docs.

I wonder if I was a seamstress in a past life.
Did I watch my family create the cave paintings
while I sat in the corner, hide on my lap
with a splinter of bone in my hand,
feeling nothing but bliss?

Did I live in the Edwardian era,
tailoring a perfect three-piece suit,
a walking skirt, my daughter’s chemise?

Did I ever pass my grandmother
in a secondhand store,
with my goal of finding a perfect neckline,
my favorite sleeves, a plaid pattern.

Did I find them among the stained and unloved,
did I make them into something beautiful?

Was this not a flashback, but a foreshadow?
Was this a hint at my next life?
Will I do the same with my daughter,
passing down the cotton and glittered tower,
hugging with triumph when the machine roars to life?

Will I be there at her first fashion show?

What if there is no past or future.
What if my soul is me, unchanging, stable.
What if I’m a butterfly,
every passing second another cocoon?

For I am a tree,
and these memories
are my branches.

My left arm holds the present,
the current reality. I fail to sew
even a button, but my dreams
reside content.

With my right arm,
I hold another present,
equally as real.

In this world, I made my doll a dress,
a bedspread with the leftover fabric.
In this world, I am not a poet,
and I don’t often dream.
In this world, my floor is my stage,
this fabric is my home.
In this world, I know not of other realities.
In this world, I live buried in my ignorant bliss.
mal frost May 2021
the great war,
my war,

against my parents
and my family,

my culture,
and my heritage,

our religions,
and our God

has come to a screeching halt at the doors of the Ultimate Truth.
and thus I was transformed,
I feel like a child again, now,
impure in actions
but pure in belief

and my tattered past led me to it,
so to all my sins,

thank you.

to all my enemies,

thank you.

to all my friends and my lovers and my family

thank you .

and,
of course, last but not least,
to the Truth that hides beneath the illusion of our existence,
guiding us mercifully -- to where, we know not -- to the Absolute and the Negation of Nothingness, bringer of Unity and founder of the school of thought known as Logic and Reason

thank you.
I left high school feeling lost, searching desperately for something -- what , I knew not.
After many spiritual journeys (although I didn't realize they were spiritual at times) I have finally found it, and now I feel empowered to live my life in control instead of feeling like I was in the backseat.
Tichozpytec Apr 2021
Does fighting with myself to death
Qualify me for an entrance to Valhalla?
Will Valkyries take me after my final breath
For my life-long war efforts in the most vicious war of all?
Or is it not enough and to Helheim I’ll fall?

Does fighting with myself to death
Qualify me for the Elysian fields?
Will I be judged after my final breath
As having completed my heroic deeds?
Or will Fields of Asphodel be my destination after pomegranate seeds?

Does fighting with myself to death
Qualify me for standing before the heavenly gates?
Will I be greeted by St. Peter after my final breath
And given a halo for the battle between my two states?
Or will I taste hellish torture caused by the demonic blades?

Does fighting with myself to death
Qualify me for reincarnation as a divine being?
Will I achieve Nirvana with my final breath
And finally realise the true meaning?
Or will I be reborn as an animal unseeing?
Next page