The Buddhists Teach
There is a door
Between the conscious and the unconscious
On the threshold of awareness
Where, from this sleepy place
Mind-door takes in space
A snap-shot of what’s around
The shapes and the sounds
Be it red, blue or brown
Sensory fed and felt and judged
A conceptual conclusion
Based on memory and illusion
Served up ofttimes with a bit of confusion
The sixth sense of inclusion
Transcending time and allusion.

Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
The unaware
From where?
Memory Lane
What a pain
Insane and mundane
Tainted and sainted
Familiar and unfamiliar
It’s the object and the flavor
It only makes sense
To bring in the other scents

Can you feel it  
Through my poetry?
Because I have no other way  
  
I’m sending you the sweetest berry
In bloom
And tea scented perfume
For some lazy afternoon.

Starting out so poetic
Descended into the prosaic
I’d like to stay in those high-minded places
Between the sheets of my faces
I’m at peace and war with myself
No one else.

I know I shouldn’t get attached
Shrug it off with panache
When I think about impermanence
Makes me cringe and  
create another circumstance
A twirling happenstance
A devil’s dance
A devilish lance

It’s getting better
Like frankincense
Then it fades
Like the past tense

How does one let go
When clinging’s become a way of life?
A hunting knife couldn’t pry
My pathetic fingers lose
Holding on to
A hangman’s noose
I’d scream and rail
Holding on
To the nail
That pierced my travail
As life stomped and pounded
grounded me down
But, I wouldn’t let go.
Oh no, not me
Fool that I am

Was it a question of pride?
A fear of the night
The ego chasing its’ tale
Personal blackmail?
A forgotten memory
A mishmash
Lack of mindfulness
A Pandora's box?
Nonetheless,
I confess
A little bit of everything.

I tell myself
Baby steps
Baby steps
Baby’s need to let go
And fall and get up
Or they won’t learn to walk
Or talk or grow up
It’s baby talk
And baby steps

Knock, knock
Who’s there
No one

Then come on in
Naked and all alone  
Rest on the threshold of time
Rest on the threshold of awareness
But, In all fairness
Don’t expect it to last
Such is the nature of impermanence

Only the bliss shall remain.
You can find it once again.

When you learn to let go.
But,
Don’t listen to my advice
As you can see
I’m still holding on for dear life.

Say what
Say what was that you said?
So glib, so sure, so true.
Sweet talking you.
Hey, money talks
Ted Talks
Pep talks
Heart Talks
Talk, talk, talk
He talks strategic arms
And limitations talks
He talks the talk
And walks the walk
She’ll talk strategic arms
And limitations talks
If you want to
If it pleases you
If it keeps you safe
Makes you comfortable
She knows  
He knows
Well, no one quite knows what he knows

Say what?
What was that you just said
Between strategic arms and limitation talks
I heard you say

“The preliminary party of your subsequent and diplomatic arrangement of the nuclear accord.”

“Say what?
What was that you just said”
He continued with the thread.

“the inspirational and endless table talk of the North Korean faction is out of their minds”

“Say what?
What was that you just said.”
Oh!
Between you and me
I completely agree
As preposterous as that can be
Let’s call an ace an ace
And get out of the race
No argument from me
I completely agree.
Encouraged he continued.

“Yeah, well the weekly fourth coming and regular meeting of the extraordinary bicentennial convenes.”

You don’t say
They’ll likely have it their way.
But, I don’t quite understand.
Do you think you could elaborate on the plan?

He continued:
“The unemployment rate is up and production is down, but we're about to turn everything around.”

Say What?
Is that what you mean?
He continued to be explainful.
But it was so painful
That I tuned him out
Losing my cool
And began to shout.

Say what
Say what the ****
What does it all mean.
I began to scream


Nothing, nothing at all
But congratulations
You said it so well
That no one could tell
What more do you need
It was pretty indeed
And you said it so well.
That no one could tell.

You, story master of comparison
Can you see without your Claritin?
Even the tools of your insight
Have they helped to make things right?
The story of your life
Is one among many
Your unique point of view
May only be true for you
And those that think like you do
There really is something to this wish fulfillment
But don’t think because you saw it out there
It’s the lords’ prayer.
So thinkers think
and
lovers’ love
and
dreamers continue in dreams.
Still, everything is not what it seems.

We think we are above
the beautiful greenery
scenery that we see
but did you ever see a tree
compare itself to another  

Said one tree to another:
Your foliage is a pale shade of yellow
Your bark is a lark
And you can’t play the cello
Like me
What kind of tree can you be?

Do the bees share their honey
or
does one crafty bee have a secret stash
hidden below the window sash
that he’s saving for a rainy day,
A getaway?

Did you ever hear a songbird say  
My song is sweeter than yours.
My high notes higher
On swifter wings do I soar.

If you’re tempted like me
To let a bee be a bee
And a tree be a tree
You will understand
If you want to soar
Don’t first attempt it from the highest floor
Don’t think there is a highest floor
Don’t think you need to soar
Don’t try to understand
Just let a bee be a bee
A tree be a tree
These are the things will set you free
Like the wind
You will wind like a gentle breeze
Then gust if you must
Never making a fuss
Don’t think you are,
Were, will ever be, anything
More or less than me,
Us, you, they, whoever
It was when I realized that all my trying
Simply wasn’t working
And I gave up.
But all it caused to say was
****.


I get it,
I really do
But,
Personally
If I want to keep you near dear  
I must set you free dear
Understand it’s very hard for me
I think you’ll agree.
I know what to do
Doesn’t mean I’ll do it
I’m not like a gentle breeze
More like a hurricane than a sneeze
Depends on your point of view
Because you see me,
Through you.
It’s true.
I have no idea what that means
It may be true
For all I know
I said so I should have meant it
I think it’s more like
I see through you,
Too
You can come out of the closet
And I will come out too,
But only with you.
Because we are the only two in there.
I don’t see anyone else.
Do you?
I’m not suggesting what you think
Far from it
So far from it
You know what I mean
No point in explaining
If nobody gets it
You do
And you’re not complaining.

So if you don’t want to be a bored buddha,
Eat some bread and buttar
Don’t forget to shutter
Stutter
Flutter
Mutter
Never rebut her
Never say mame
Because you found the only ******
And now you’re in a jam.

When you’re gone
How do I know?  
I don't know  
But I do

When you are gone
I put on my sailor suit
Blood red, ghostly white, but mostly blue
Crawl into my crammed craft  
A waterbed of not smooth sailing, but I  
Implacable in a turbulent feeling sea
Unstoppable, scanning, searching
Bobbing and buoyant with the surf
Dodging everything in a cumbersome path
Until you are found

When you are gone
Other boats sail by
What is she looking for?
Do not try to rescue me, other-
I am not lost, except lost to you.

My ocean, my seafaring friend
Curious current, unstoppable is
carrying me
holding me kindly
in its unfathomable depth
Until you are found.

2.
Like a dog knows
When It’s owner is coming home
Home is all they know.
When the place where you are
is not home,
I become rabid,
Like a mad dog.
Anxious
Alarmed
Scared
Angry
Hurt
Weepy

When you are gone-
I am gone too- pieces of
Not knowing, yet knowing
I am one with the needy sea
Seeking into seaweed ravaged ravines.
Old stuck and sacred scars
Hastening my tale of woe and foe
Circling my desperation for you
entrenched in my sailor’s saga
Dry kicking feral fish jumping
Drinking thirsty spiraling
fastened to a chain-linked fence
in the middle of an empty and wise ocean
Until you are found

Dog tired and out of options
Exhausted and retched
There is only one place

In a dug-out of my own making
I open my eyes
What I see
Ambiguity
And I can't be there
I'm trying to be there
I can’t be there
I’m trying to be there
I can’t be there
I’m trying to be there
He's angry
She's angry
You're angry
I'm angry, then
sad and hurt
Who thought up this twisted plot
Some call it life
There are better plots
Are there not?

Mostly right now
I’m happy
Happier than ever  
But, temporal like an old wave
Sensing the shore
Sensing its own demise:
just a look
Or a look away is
A wave is a goodbye.
swallowed in the arms of mother-father
You’re gone
But, I'm happy right now
Why should my happiness depend on you?

I know it's not like that for you
Really, I don’t know anything
And it’s driving me crazy
A part of the ‘what plot’ I wrote
Conspiracies make me crazy
Not knowing makes me crazy
You are making me crazy
Yes, you
No, not me
It’s all your fault
Yes, you

Ambiguity is not a kind bedfellow
Did I say not kind
What I meant was; ambiguity is a piece of..
The puzzle, what did you think I was going to say.
I'm trying
Please forgive me
My meanness,
my neediness,
my clinging
my darling
  
the very best part of you
no meanness
None at all
You get choked up on hurt
And try sometimes
but really you can’t
the words come out all jumbled
as you try to defend, to no end
because you understand
It’s not you.
Don't think I'm putting you on a pedestal because I'm not
You could fall from a pedestal and get hurt
I'm a realist
Before all
Then a dreamer
Mostly a dreamer
If I’m being honest

3.
This I know
The essence of what you are
And the essence of what you are not
Not the particulars
Those like lost pieces of you
Are they
Lost for a reason?
Or forever.
I choked on the word
I don’t understand my need to tell you everything
As if my life depended on it
As if your life depended on it
I’m not competing
Believe me
This is as much me as it is you
I just don’t understand this cruel twist of fate

I want to think I wasn’t the author of this sad story
Where there are no good or bad characters,
no good or bad plots
Endless words of explanation
For all I know
It begins and ends here now
Maybe I really am just crazy

Just a word from you is all I ask
So I can sleep

4.
I’ll show this to you when the time is right
forget about everything for tonight
If my poem is out of tune
Out of words
Out of rhyme
I’ll write another
And another
And another
Until the ferocity is gone
And I can be peaceful.
This is my wish for you, too.
Why do I get this way when you’re gone?

To Choose or Not to Choose. is it a Choice?
For the love of o!

I learned not to choose when I realized the choice had already been made.
What do I mean by that and why am I telling you this?
I say choose to choose
with 2 os because choose with 2 os is not- choice with one.
Oh, no. (Both with one o) And I love os.
Now anybody who's anybody knows that os come in two varieties.
Single os and double os.
And then there are cheerios and xs and os.
Oh, and how, (both with one o), those were the days when things were simple.
An x was just an x and an o was just an o.
Now we have so many choices.
Do you see what I mean?
Kind of like the days when women were women and men were men.
And kids didn’t get to choose. (with two os.)
Yuk, we were so limited back then.
Do you remember the not so good old days?
Everyone knew who they were and they sure as hell knew- they weren’t you.
No choice back then; when men were men, women were women, kids didn’t get to choose and that was the end.
Duality was trending back then.
Now there are so many choices.
Like how many ways can you answer the question?
To choose or not to choose.
Well, any question really.  
It’s not that simple anymore.  
You do know, yes you do, know what I’m talking about.
Let’s get this straight, I’m quite alright, even endorse the choices, as long as we separate the single os from the double os.
That’s what really drives me crazy.
What about 007.
Why did he need to be double o.
Was there ever a single o that came before the double o.
Did he choose to choose with two os or was there a single o predecessor?
Can’t say.  These are questions everyone should ask..
Instead, they choose contrived, manipulated, untrue, fake, phony, falsified, bogus, doctored and utterly ridiculous theater and never concern themselves with the bigger issues in life. yuk
And it is, for this reason, the I take up the challenge and try to answer the more serious, fundamental, visceral, honest, ultimately and timely questions. huh.
Is choosing a choice?
Without hesitation I declare.
Of course, it is not.
Anyone can see that choosing has two os and choice only has one.
Now, some may find this explanation to be quite o literal, but I can assure you it is not.
At the risk of repeating myself.
A simple glance will let you know that choice is not in the choosing for it was- choice it would have two os and it does not.  
Not that there should be a preference of os over say xs.
Yet I really like the way it sounds. Xs and os, xs and os.
Cheerios. Happy os. Videos. Delirious. Serious. Not really os- but
That’s the way it rolls in my prose.
Corny, I know.  
A rose is never a rose in my prose.
It’s all about the xs and os.  
But, one shouldn’t get hung-up on os and neglect the xs.
Oh no.
Hey, what about the x ***?
What ***?
I thought there were only 2 sexes.
That was then, remember, and this is now.
Wow, I didn’t know you didn’t know.
Well, x ***.
Has a nice sound.
And since we're all moving in that direction anyway, seems the x *** just got there a little sooner.
So they just got tired of choosing (with 2 os) and when whoever does the asking, asked, ‘so what *** do you want to be in your next incarnation?’
After realizing the party was over they just shrugged.
I don’t know man. I haven’t had much success with either.
Oh (with one o) that’s too (with 2 os) bad.
Why don’t we put you down as an x.
Ok, I guess, if that’s what you suggest.
I’ll agree to an x for my next ***.
But, wait. What the **** that is an x?
An x explained, whoever the **** does the explaining, is a human that shares both sexes.
So, what do you say? Is it a go, (with one o), or is it a nay?
So, if you ask me, there really isn’t any choice at all because it’s already been chosen.
Who did the choosing? Who knows. (both with one o)
Me, I think it was 007 because he has two os and I love os and the hell with my xs.
The subject is so xhausting if you get my gist.
I’ll leave the rest for tomorrow. A wonderful word with three os. A subject yet to be discussed.
So now, I have to go and so I leave you with mucho xs and os.
** ** **.
If you don’t mind me saying so. (with one o)



.

From this dugout
No use pouring my heart out.
This confessional doesn’t have a shade drawn
A puppet, a pawn, a perp
A tack on
Littered with detritus
Of somebody done somebody wrong song
I don’t steal anybody’s song,
Wrong
It’s not my commandment
It’s not written in granite
Ambiguities a bad bedfellow
But not a dead fellow
This confessional, this confessional
Doesn’t absolve you with a few hail marys
a thicket of wicked thorn berries.
sick, *******, costumed pretenders-
holy, roly-poly, sanctimonious vendors.
Doesn’t cleanse you at the hip altar.
But of-
the unpure, uneaten, unsure
excommunicated alter,
of the endure
Defaulter, sweet & sour, flower power altar.
Where you shall genuflect to the vanquished
To the-
Soiled, stained, sick, smelly, unkempt and managed
Gross, bone bent, back aching, decried and decrypted.
Imperfect professors of perfection
Who are perfectly right
But don’t know it
And quit

You, sanctimonious vendor of the unpure.
How can you be so sure?

Mary scared mother of-
Stripped of her merriment
Fairy dust
wanderlust
Mary, Venerated Jewish Mother  
Annunciation proclamation
Consummation Abnegation
Hastened your ascension
Toward prop ligation
Fleshly excommunication castration
You shall labor without love
Impregnated with carnal canned pixie dust
On the backs of *****-tonk donkeys
Star-stalking, strange, bearded traveling imposters
Posted on paper indelible,
Forever
They reign.
Please


Mary’s, you have given birth many times,
Not with the ***** of men, but nonetheless.
Birthing their winged  & ribbed women
Angels
Amen.
With the same pixie dust.
Some have called them crazy,
lazy
hazy,
spacey,
****
zany,
brainy
And worse
Some better

You have not called them at all,
Mother of the child-
Child of the mother.
Mother, why did you drop me on my head,
And then leave me for dead?
An abandoned cavern that couldn’t fill the holy womb.
They wouldn’t let me go near you.
Elastic roped and doped and spun
Someone finally won.
It wasn’t you,
Mother.
Child
You were the prize child
Denial child
Anything but wild child
Do no wrong child
Slightly soiled spoiled child
A benediction of denial child.
Precious child
Equalized on such a lofty Persian perch?
Where we have put you
And left you.

You will pay dearly for this, child.
What do you have to say for yourself?
You must plead guilty.
Because if you are not-
The consequences will be severe.
So, how do you plead?
Once in awhile child.
How do you plead?
Once in a denial child.
How do you plead?
I have written on paper pure indeed
How do you plead?
Now I need to burn the paper
How do you plead?
Ashes to ashes
How do you plead?
Mad dashes
Past to present
Has past.
How do you plead?
Now
Backlashes, dashes, and eyelashes
How do you plead?
I’m down on my knees
Trying to please
How do you plead?

Freeze and frozen
A snow-white fairy in a
Snow white fairytale
In a snow-white snow storm.
How do you plead?
Dashes to dashes to dashes
Is this the end-
Ashes to ashes to ashes
Or just another altar
My friend.
How do you plead?

Instant messages from the multiverse
Rhyming verses of deliverance
A four-line limerick
Spoken with just an utterance.
  
Words I needed to hear
Words spoken so casually, when
I am so unnaturally, irrationally
Unsure of anything
Instant messages from the multiverse
I need to emphasize
Some are heavy, some are light
Some come like thieves in the night

Some come so unexpectedly
I hope they treat me gently
Whatever their intent be
My emotions are raw
Or is it just a slow thaw
I really don’t know, but
I’m wise to their game
I’m not a fool for their pain
Not addicted to the synchronicities
And don’t take it personally
Still
How do they know
Just what to say
How do they know?

Just the same
I’m wise to their game.
I’m a gypsy telling fortunes
I’m a seer telling lies, but
Nobody, no nobody
Knows what I see in your eyes

When my need for you is more than I can bear
I turn on the radio, just to hear
Instant messages from the multiverse
Only I was meant to hear

Conducting the orchestra with an uncanny flair
I tune to your frequency to always keep you near
And fast forward when they’re saying something,  
I don’t want to hear.

I’m wise to their games
This love path is not for the meek
A game of hide and seek
Isn’t there some other way
A formula, a technique

It is in this way
That I get through the day
And that medley of love songs
Well, they’re just foreplay.

Are we on the same frequency?
Creating beautiful melodies.
A symphony of many notes
Half notes, whole notes
Blue notes too.
Don’t ever lose the love notes sent from me to you