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#samsara
Tick. Tock. A spin in the clock. A worm dies. A human's born. Tock. Tick. A spin in the wheel. Let's cycle again. Trying to flee. Tick. Tock. A spin in the clock. Lost, pain, pleasure and gain. Nothing means "Death", nothing means "Birth". It's just pain and pleasure all over again.
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Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 1:22 PM UTC
Samsara
wild white horses on the beach i feel the freedom of the breeze i can trust my divinity, its all in me wild rose bushes aligning me i smell the flowers of the free i can love myself eternally, it’s all in me knitting with all the potent possibilities i weave and thread my dreams i can allow myself to breathe, it’s all in me sowing all of my plenty, pretty seeds rabbits foot, lucky as can be i can creating the means, it’s all in me
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May 29, 2025
May 29, 2025 at 8:20 AM UTC
All in Me
I clawed my way from winter’s mouth… the wolf that fed on memory and rot. Its hunger had no end, and I was the feast. But I tore loose. With bloodied breath and crooked spine, I rose. In the forest of endings, a bear’s voice called… half lament, half command. It knew my name when I had none. The stars spun in reverse. The cycle cracked like glass under weight. And in the hush that followed, a flame stirred. It spoke: “Come, child. You are the death of forgetting.” And somewhere, deep in the trees, another wolf stirred… not the devourer, but not yet known. Its eyes burned with something ancient, its breath was the wind. It waits. And when it steps forward… which wolf will it be
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May 9, 2025
May 9, 2025 at 4:48 PM UTC
The Samsara Tomb
I sped to the temple. Breaking human laws, to align with universal ones. I approached. As my brow lowered, grace entered my being. Sunlight greeted me. As I slowly passed A stone Buddha. No one was around. Monks must be out. Only a bird sat and sang to all the flowers. ~ As I entered the main hall, the wood creaked beneath me, And my awareness became acute. The large Buddha towered over a myriad of empty zafus. All in accordance and order. I sat, emulating the statue. Even my temporal imperfections matched the stone carvings. Yet, my mind was with the bird. I stretched out my legs, toward the wall, after a long sit. The flowers were still after a breeze And that bird had flown away.
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Nov 13, 2024
Nov 13, 2024 at 4:59 PM UTC
I Sped to the Temple
All lost in the past In the present returns Wherein all is given; The future is false
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Jun 29, 2023
Jun 29, 2023 at 12:50 PM UTC
Time
If I wait to finish my chores, to finish my food all the tiny notifiers to my superego, my id would wither music, writing, commiserating, and commiserating eight-fold path that could fit in my pocket I can play Make children with songs that have been inside me half a lifetime when I picked up an axe 14 year old me Shyer in most ways but bolder in interesting ways I walked the path humming 4 noble truths in between theses erratic days I lived a myriad of lives I fear it’s all swirling to be the same Circles within samsara used to last for months now I’m stuck for years and I no longer wish to become unconditioned
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Nov 21, 2021
Nov 21, 2021 at 8:49 AM UTC
Sameness
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..
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Jul 19, 2021
Jul 19, 2021 at 5:13 PM UTC
Terrestial Skirmish
I see the sunrise over sin, Repress what I did once again. Shadows me like its prey, Lurching out of me eagerly. I see the sunrise over sin, It’s boiled over once again. Scolding from white hot shame, My guilt has the power to lame. I see the sunrise over sin. Push it down before it begin. The moon rise over blame, She brings clarity and aim. I see the sunrise over sin, Connects us all a kin. Judge others harshly without perceptivity, Ignorant of the hypocrisy. I see the sunrise over sin, Should **** someone but who’s in? Let’s all perish together again, Cleanse this place of our contagion. I see the sunrise over sin. Let’s live samsara again. Improve from the last time. Not just a rhyme.
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Nov 13, 2019
Nov 13, 2019 at 11:26 AM UTC
Sunrise Over Sin
The overture sounds: A muffled “thud,”        And scraping flesh against macadam. Un-rosined bows screech across nerves,                      Dividing molecules to atoms. Each neuron fires off, splicing into three The soul from the body,           and something indescribably between. Catching fire, he ascends -             "This is what it truly means to be!" Each piece, each side Breaking away in-finitely To somehow become more whole Through division, and in balance.                   Like a reunion, of holy trinity,                        Caught ablaze in fissile symphony.                    -  -  - And like a cork popped from a bottle, Rewound, and played reversed,        He careens with a whining pitch        And                  f                     a                        l                           l                             s                               From orbit,                                   Back to earth. Glimpsing God Only to be clawed back To the pains and pleasures of Samsara,         To taste the bitterness of my own blood,         Juxtaposed         With the ecstasy of Nirvana. This is how I came to know the realm      In which our feeble bodies lurch. Reborn as a phoenix from the ashes. From the rear cabin of a hearse.
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Nov 11, 2019
Nov 11, 2019 at 3:28 PM UTC
Ablaze in Fissile Symphony (Phoenix from a Hearse)
The overture sounds: A muffled “thud,”        And scraping flesh against macadam. Un-rosined bows screech across nerves,                      Dividing molecules to atoms. Each neuron fires off, splicing into three The soul from the body,           and something indescribably between. Catching fire, he ascends -             "This is what it truly means to be!" Each piece, each side Breaking away in-finitely To somehow become more whole Through division, and in balance.                   Like a reunion, of holy trinity,                        Caught ablaze in fissile symphony.                    -  -  - And like a cork popped from a bottle, Rewound, and played reversed,        He careens with a whining pitch        And                  f                     a                        l                           l                             s                               From orbit,                                   Back to earth. Glimpsing God Only to be clawed back To the pains and pleasures of Samsara,         To taste the bitterness of my own blood,         Juxtaposed         With the ecstasy of Nirvana. This is how I came to know the realm      In which our feeble bodies lurch. Reborn as a phoenix from the ashes. From the rear cabin of a hearse.
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38
Descend into refraction before me, bewildered like a ****** Exist as a flunkey, and myopic. Everything I’ve existed, all of a sudden lifted and sifted. Leaving residue not historic. Originating from neglect of the forthcoming. All I’ve learned and would learn. Dissolve from this. I do not like this great dissolution, but I accept it, swallowing my actions too late. So fall to pieces, and bring a reset of samsara. Dissolute all I’ve known and would. Only due to my ignorance. I’ve brought destruction. I deserve struggle. As it falls away. Into nothing. I become. Nothing. I was. But Now Am Ø.
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Nov 9, 2019
Nov 9, 2019 at 1:37 PM UTC
Mahapralaya
When I pass on this life will have been Turbulent, But sweet, Not concrete Like my poems: Not perfect, Yet complete With stubborn attitude I will have competed With probability, With humble gratitude I will have submitted To inevitability, I will look back and see My legacy, Fulfil the prophecy To repeat my destiny To exist temporarily And face Uncertainty Till I flee Time and become Eternity.
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Oct 25, 2019
Oct 25, 2019 at 3:12 PM UTC
Samsara
You practice non-attachment Yet you  wouldn't want to do Without water. You let water own you like a lotus leaf You allow it to hold you in its never ending cul-de-sac Flowing between the total bliss of nirvana And the joy of samsara. You practice non-attachment to desire Yet you're wanting Desiring Craving Water. Ponds. Lakes. Streams. Seas Your thirst is inextinguishable Wild awake rain And as you drink that unquenchable flood Your lips are watering springs, Sipping fountains of primordial tears.
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Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 7:19 PM UTC
Water attachment
The cell phone rings once But the ringing in my head… ...The sound of your voice
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Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 8:32 AM UTC
Haiku 16
after painfully separating the colors in intricate patterns she allows herself the full glimpse of her daily labors. and without hesitation brushes the dry earth, along with her work. her long fingers unfurling, the long and brittle parts breaking into sand. 7 November 2018
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Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 4:06 AM UTC
Mandala
To be a human and to drift in and out of here does not seem plausible. But when I am to die and I open my eyes, I’ll find that I am washed up on shore. Somewhere between my birth and death, memories continue to be made and fade. To be free from this cycle  of life, death and repeat, will be the ultimate goal. I want to be free. To live a life in valleys, to sit in grass, to wade along the shoreline.
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Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 11:49 PM UTC
with(out) sand in my ears
The warm autumn breeze          scatters the leaves      like spring  snowflakes       I carefully hand stack         them each by color,               one by one,            as if they were           befallen dreams                      or       similarly unholdable                gathered       garnered memories                       •         each leaf touched              reminds me        of how many times           I've had to let go ―          how many times                   I've fallen      without a place to land    until the winds of change          drew me back up                as if I were    evanescent autumn leaves,       to be swept away again,          touched by the spirit              the true nature                   of  love                       • •                 sown seeds of one love            bestrewn hopefully,              thusly cast about               just as intended,      the grain and chaff together,      sifted by the velvet breath         of the samsara wind's               sanguine touch                      •  •  •                autumn waters ... October 29, 2017
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Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 12:09 PM UTC
Hand Stacked Leaves
The warm autumn breeze          scatters the leaves      like spring  snowflakes       I carefully hand stack         them each by color,               one by one,            as if they were           befallen dreams                      or       similarly unholdable                gathered       garnered memories                       •         each leaf touched              reminds me        of how many times           I've had to let go ―          how many times                   I've fallen      without a place to land    until the winds of change          drew me back up                as if I were    evanescent autumn leaves,       to be swept away again,          touched by the spirit              the true nature                   of  love                       • •                 sown seeds of one love            bestrewn hopefully,              thusly cast about               just as intended,      the grain and chaff together,      sifted by the velvet breath         of the samsara wind's               sanguine touch                      •  •  •                autumn waters ... October 29, 2017
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39
How I feel the time tighten The temporal noose tickles my throat Swaying in the nothingness I do so crave of late How many hours in the day Must I conjure the joker Just in the nick To salvage my neck From fate herself? Why wait for the sand to drop? When grains of pure ambrosia Are clustered in the crystal shard I so wish to crush For all to feast on what has passed Dispersed in the ocean of tranquility I may rest awhile from test of metal This trivial mental ordeal Will kaleidoscope the stars You will breathe me then Will be closer and complete This drip feed of love is not enough So I plead to be defeated It drowns me in waves of notions That I should sign myself as absent Until the indefinite motion Of the universal spin frees me From the karmic balance of things Like this I do see this branch trimmed short Stunted and pruned before the ripe With this contorted hope I may become the light That I am when I soar in my dreaming Yet I wake breathing bound by fleshy bonds So dull in the spectrum of ****** sadness I confess it is time to end this mess Let the prophecy contemplate timing Until that shiny moment I will sigh and play along To the tormenting throng That beckons my presence here For one day longer For just one day longer I will be strong I will pretend what I feel Is proven wrong by living reason Until my patience depleted Will unmask what we believe Of this carnal marathon Racing on the wheels of Samsara
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Jul 4, 2017
Jul 4, 2017 at 5:36 AM UTC
Samsara
Each day dawning would gift me new eyes of wonder, right from my childhood a  friend, from this lone and lonely tree, I'd fervently hope for something different, rushing  to the window, I view that  elegance as the first auspicious thing to gaze at, as the custom suggests. After the morning light creates a pool above the verdant hills at the east, yet again a regular ritual, the tree is my magical yard stick by which I measure myself, a mysterious pact between us existed, deep in mind, I had felt only we know between us even if the breeze says, that aloud often. In her presence every thing becomes clear. As I watch the tree, as usual after the repetitions of long years of rain, shine and mist in between, what I saw that moment was different: On every branch seeking light, bristled flowery wonders songbirds, absent till the day before in droves sat all over the crown, in unison singing her paeans sonorously, purple rays of morning sun adorned each leaf, in colorful embrace. Wasn't it the moment I was yearning for? I stood filled with it's effulgence,crown to root the connection in an instance, becomes clear, there is no secrets left unsaid between  us any more-- In a flash , a golden window opens in inner chamber I feel free from, the bindings of all mundane desires as one rows the boat, the miseries of Samsara, the treacherous rapids, are left behind for ever. Isn't it enlightenment, at the moment seeking me unassumingly through my open windows?
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Jun 28, 2017
Jun 28, 2017 at 2:49 PM UTC
The Bodhi tree just outside my window
I said I would leave My hand Never Left the door Or left Your Tender little heart In what time it takes to grow I thought I would grow more In the time it takes to take a break I thought I could explore ignorance and never return to melancholia. I know I said I would leave but I return Didn't I warn you before that I need you? I am desperate to warm you and freeze your brittle bones. I thought departure would heal the wounds I deeply knew only square paper under the tongue fixed though I know if I never left I would never have felt the heartbeat of my apartment. I thought I could leave but I have to write. I could have sworn I did not need you when the beginning and the end of my existence run completely through you, sometimes you only, those who see Samsara, know their place, still cling, and me, I cling to you.
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Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 6:34 PM UTC
Energies|Cling to You