"bodhi" poems
Tibetan Brimstone butterflies wave wings madly at their paradise valley
In the beginning, before the beginning, and in the beginning
Their shaken snow globe makes them flutter in wild exuberance
As they reveal a mountain, then no mountain, then Kunlun again
Peace, followed by chaos, and then by peace
Mother Luna's kaleidoscope of enlightenment
Protected by the hooded one
Holds all worlds and shakes the four seasons
Nothingness, creation, abiding, destruction
The wheel of time
Moves the wind as it’s blown by vast circles of water
Aqua marine is washed again by golden earth
And in the center, the great opal mountain song of La
Nature's peace
Beyond white leopard snows, icy winds, and empty husks of death
Butterflies are born again
Shambhala’s mindful beat opens passage for light through darkness
Poets squint and ride on wings toward the hidden sunset kingdom
Watching another world's Avalon alive beneath a blue moon
Insulated chrysalis of love for all seasons
A fisherman, a carpenter, a shepherd, a merchant, a caterpillar
Discover a lush, isolated, peach grove
Nosing thickly scented nectar and purple primrose honey
In the jade valley of the kings, queens, and beggars
They meditate under the Bodhi Tree
Deep brown ****** lines are carved into their soft olive skin
Smooth hands are made rough, and then smooth again
Young, then old, and then young once more
Wisdom setting beside Queen Spirit Mother of the West
Sharing a bowl of her rice milk in harmony
Being in the realm between man and nature as Kalachakra turns
For six years the caterpillar eats of fig
And then the wheel breaks for flight one last time
Radiating light as she sheds her glorious wings
Here, the snow globe explodes flying petals of wild exuberance
Revealing a mountain, then no mountain, then Kunlun again
Transcending all, turning tears into the suns joyful rays
As they rise, then set, and then rise again
Nirvana
Beyond our Lost Horizon
© 2019 MJL
Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 10:01 AM UTC
O Buddha, the gold vein of thy sermon of mercy ran through gloom-gorged, rocky hearts, and illumined their darkness.
Thou loftiest soarer of renunciation's skies, beneath thy God-lifted eyes, the kingdom of sense-comfort, the rivers of gross greed, the vast and lust-scorched deserts of desire, the tall trees of temporal ambition, the cactus plants of prickly world-worries—all melt into invisible smallness.
Buddha, the arc-light of thy sympathy sought to melt the hardness of cruel hearts. Once thou didst save a lamb by offering thyself in its stead.
Thy solemn thoughts still silently roam through the ether of minds, searching for ecstasy-tuned hearts. Seated beneath the banyan bodhi tree, thou didst make a solemn tryst with the Spirit:
"Beneath the banyan bough,
On the sacred seat I take this vow:
Let derma, bones, and fleeting flesh dissolve;
Until the mysteries of life I solve,
And receive the all-coveted Priceless Lore,
From this place I shall stir, never, nevermore."
Thou symbol of sympathy, incarnation of mercy, give us thy determination, that we may seek truth as doggedly as thou didst. Bless us, that we may be awakened, like thee, to seek remedy for the sorrow-throbs of others as we seek it for ourselves.
From: Whispers from Eternity
A Book of Answered Prayers
1949 Edition
4.8k
Earthen formed, as clay, my bodhi,
Deeba, with inner wick always lite,
Oli, light of Thee light, sits.
Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 4:09 AM UTC
Forgotten are our pleas
to temper the dawn
So that even as the night lays silent
there are echoes,
a rhythmic thrum of time
Carried forth are the quiet souls of man
from the ebbing shores born of passing moments
toward the twilight of the flickering flame.
And land ye yet to those moors of shadow,
that evanescence of the living breath,
take heart!
For on its banks grow the roots of the Bodhi
whose branches bore the seeds for the Garden,
and its leaves are as shelter for the Spark.
Thus we bear the gaze of the boatman,
the cloak'd Moirai who guides the clocks,
as it is best to take the lilting petals
upon the tongue
and savor.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 2:34 AM UTC
the teacher
expounded on the value of the tree
*“Isaac Newtown
discovered the law of gravity
under an apple tree;
the Buddha gained nirvana
seated under the Bodhi tree
Children -
what can we extrapolate from this?”*
“It’s obvious, teacher,” said a smarty-pants kid
*“class is useless -
for if they’d been seated in a class like us
they’d have remained ignorant”*
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 7:12 AM UTC
I put my Prayer in THOT…
And Now it is in Heaven
I put my Prayer In LIFE…
And Now It Knows a Happiness!
I Put My Prayer in Hope….
And Now my Faith Reveals Me…
I Put My Prayer in Love...
And Now It Knows Humanity…
I put My Prayer in Silence
And NOW the Vision Breathes again
I put my Prayer in Stillness
And feel my Hearing fall away.
I put my Prayer in Feeling
and hear the Voice begins Again
I put My Prayer in Loving
And My Eyes are Lifted Higher..
I Ask for what is Living...
I’m Shown the Pen of Peacefulness
It writes for Eli Wiesel..
and Calls the Words of PEACE..
I hear the sound of Beauty
that sings the sound Sibelius
It writes the Song of Welcoming
That plays the Perfect Peace
I turn to SEE the Mission:
The Treaty of Invisible
IT SEE's the Unseen beings
and brings them to this Home
We join at Heavens Table
that shares the Worlds and Galaxy
that sets down all the guidelines,
for Living in the Light
I hear the Sound of Bodhi
And turn to Search for Witnessing
I ask for God's companions,
not 1 but 2 for strength
We stand within PRESENCE
This Task is CLEAR
Now hear the Sound Sibelius
and Know the Vision Peace.
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 8:53 AM UTC
[Dedicated to Aung San Suu Kyi, the greatest Fraud of all times]
Darkness like Halagu Khan is running
taking sword in hand;
Light is fleeing raising its tail.
The decorated dream-city will lose its
electricity for ever;
in all directions, the slogan of hyenas
will be heard only.
Going to the shade of Bodhi Tree,
I asked Gautama Buddha,
'By tasting which poisonous fruit,
your disciples have become insane
and have been involved in massacre
in Myanmar? '
Hanging his head, said Gautama, 'Darkness.'
Going to Bethlehem, I asked Jesus Christ,
'By drinking which grape-juice,
your disciples have become insane
and have been involved in massacre in Mosul,
Baghdad and Syria singing of democracy? '
Hanging his head, said Jesus, 'Darkness.'
Going to the holy home of Moses,
I bowed down my head and said, 'Would you
tell me, by eating which Manna and Salwa
your disciples have become insane
and have been involved in killing children
and women in holy Palestine? '
Hanging his head, said Moses, 'Darkness.'
Going to Mathura city, I said to Lord Krishna,
'Please tell me, by eating which food
offering to deity, your disciples have become
insane and have been involved in massacre
in Kashmir, Delhi and Gujarat? '
Hanging his head, said Krishna, 'Darkness.'
Darkness like Halagu Khan is running
taking sword in hand;
Light is fleeing raising its tail.
Again the days of darkness have descended on earth.
I have been searching Abdul-Muttalib's son
Abdullah's house in Pharaoh's city—
in such a thick darkness, no doubt,
the Sun of the desert had risen
in the lap of Amina!
[Translated by the poet from Bengali]
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 7:28 AM UTC
I'd be a Prophet or Sage
if only my wisdom
(if I even have some)
was lined up with my age
a reflective Buddha I'd be
I'd be an enlightened one
shaded from the bright sun
meditating 'neath the Bodhi tree
might as well face it
I can't erase it
for me...
age came with no wisdom
that's why it's so lonesome
a Buddha I'll never be
even if I do sit under a tree!
I guess that's okay...
don't mean to be too silly
but I don't want Buddha belly
it's bad enough anyway!
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 7:29 AM UTC
I cross my legs under the Bodhi tree, sitting
in the sanctity of my well afflicted fortune
I splice the moment’s intermittent air
to drink of the jeweled river cascades
electric plush ~ ripened
to taste like lemonade Nirvana,
puckered up with pleasant chills
flowing through crystalline lattice
works to cleanse my mental palette
with a hint of mint placed on an Other-side
be rest assured the crest rolls atop the tide.
A vacant awareness is aroused from within the
sanctity of my sweet surrender ~
My eyes flutter blissful blinks like flirting butterfly’s
flapping wings resounding good vibrations
across the globe where space rebounds with
positive affirmation of *the little girl with wet eyes,
smiles wide, an outstretched palm placed firmly
in a mother’s hand, how safely she's returned,
perfectly as planned.*
I celebrate this victorious vision inside my skull
with grunting cheer and a third eye sneeze ~
my air fills with a burst of vision mist coating
my recollections piece by piece holistically,
light as a photon beam phasing in for safe landing,
strapped back in my body for leave of meditation.
I rise out from under the Bodhi tree, in my sanctity
of well afflicted fortune and give a thankful bow
for the good outcomes of the day.
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 2:15 PM UTC
I stand at the altar
Of a red brick Victorian
Baptist Church
Kneel at Namas
With my brothers for Salah
In the Mosque
Follow flags to
The Gurdwara
Amrit Sanchar*
Everyone has their bodhi tree
I carry mine with me
-
Seated in a building
Singing songs
To an all knowing deity
Some hold arms aloft
Awaiting heavenly high fives
Others shuffle feet uneasily
It's time for the alternative sermon
Where we air all the doubts
Where hushed voices sweet singing
Make way for swearing and shouts
Apr 12, 2012
Apr 12, 2012 at 8:59 AM UTC
Her frizzly silk mop,
Flowers in sparkling grey fizz;
My Bodhi perfect !
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 8:27 AM UTC
What kind of drugs was he on
When he saw the unity of all things?
Which type of kush was he smoking?
Was it indica, sativa or hybrid?
This is a lazy man's enlightenment
To let the plants lead your mind
So whatever you may find
It was shown to you
How many shrooms did Moses eat
When he went up on that mountain?
What stage of schizophrenia was he at
When we thought he talked to God?
Could I jump three rings of density
If I get really high?
Fifth, sixth, seventh and the octave
Clear into a bigger sky
What was Siddhartha smoking
When he sat beneath that tree?
To see all faces in an instant
How he's linked up with me
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 6:05 PM UTC
I am the bodhi tree, and
my sight knows no bounds
through my great veins course your poisons
your rage, your fear, your pain
and I have loved them as I have loved you
In my expanse I am all that is,
the universe is held within me
yet I am naught but one
I can hear their emotion
those thoughts near and far
the totality of all things perceived
is in the minute sweet nothings of my self
Soon I shall perish, and leave behind my body
so that all else may live on in my memory
and my memory may live on in all else
Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 3:47 PM UTC
That's him away then. So, kids,
what do we do now?
No, laddie, don't cry. We'll find our way.
No-one will write it down,
you may be sure of that,
but no-one will be burnt alive for it -
no nation will be conquered for it -
no vacuous, rudderless culture will claim it at their convenience.
On you go now, boys,
there's work to be done.
We can't all nap under a bodhi tree when it suits us.
Here now, no tears -
here's a kiss for you both.
We'll walk this path together,
real dust rising behind us,
real pain and real joy before us
and we'll maybe find
that attachment's not such a terrible thing
after all.
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 3:09 PM UTC
So while
"Gate, Gate,
Paragate,
Parasamgate,
Bodhi,
Svaha!"
is the Great Dharani
and the Radiant Supreme Mantram,
we must also
keep in mind
The Lesser Dharani
of
"Oo Ee
Oo Ah Ah
Ting Tang
Walla Walla Bing Bang"
and also meditate
on the Lesser Mantram
of
"Ohwah
Tagoo
Siam"
and always remember
that us poets
are all enlightened
because we know
the sound
of one hand clapping
because
we always seem
to hear it
when we read aloud
at poetry readings.
Jul 14, 2012
Jul 14, 2012 at 7:12 AM UTC
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?
Jun 28, 2017
Jun 28, 2017 at 2:49 PM UTC
Across the earth
hearts are beating...
red-mime of no-time
simultaneity.
Body-galaxy to
bodhi-galaxy...space
enough for ecstasy.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
She still is the greenest tree in absence,
in my land of obliterated dreams,
the golden fruit my heart desired,
still hangs there, a phantom limb,
my mind hibernates,under the shade of
the banyan tree of renunciation,
still my battle is fierce,Buddha path
or tempting fruit of unquiet desires.
ബോധി വൃക്ഷത്തിലെ കാമഫലം
എൻറെ മായ്ച്ചുകളഞ്ഞ സ്വപനങ്ങളുടെ ഭുമിയിൽ
അഭാവത്തിലും പച്ചച്ച മരമാണവൾ
എന്റെ ഹൃദയം മോഹിച്ച സുവർണഫലം
ഒരു 'ഭൂതാവയവം'പോലെ അതിൽ
ഇപ്പോഴും തൂങ്ങിക്കിടക്കുന്നു !
നിരാസത്തിന്റെ ആൽമരത്തണലിൽ
എന്റെ മനസ് ഹേമന്തനിദ്രയിൽ.
ഇ പ്പോഴും എന്റെ പോര് തുടരുന്നു ;
ബുദ്ധ പാദം പിന്തുടരുകയോ ,
അശാന്ത മോഹങ്ങളെ തേടിച്ചെന്നു പുണരുകയോ?
(MALAYALAM translation)
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 9:30 PM UTC
**A mud puddle in the rough patch of the road,
reflects her face, clearer than ever.
A child again, her mind transformed by some magic,
A tsunami wave of enlightenment sweeps her off her feet at once.**
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 11:04 AM UTC
Ever since my birth,
her stretch marks have caught my age
on sycamore skin.
© Matthew Harlovic
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 9:46 PM UTC
.
In disused field is a blooming temple.
An ancient apple tree waiting eternal,
This stone bold sculpture was forged
With nimbus hands and windy eyes.
In hushed airs, Shiva dances to light,
Waves, sacred arms without swaying.
Bearded ones come to pay homage,
The solemn chickadees, the ranging
Sparrows, red robed robins— priestly
Doves, all who see are one enveloped
In graces of the New World Bodhi tree,
Waiting for blossoms so dearly come.
Edge of boughs brim under heavens
Landing with mystic verges of spirit
Into the mind of the eyes of nature—
Kali-flowered ears of lichen are pale
Green in their devotions, pummeled
By seas of seasons, foggy to the fray.
Finches, yellow, reflecting in a star,
Devout wee lamas golden with halo,
Are kneeling above berm, this nobby
Trunk, stave, inside bodacious stupa
Bell who sings clear, without ringing,
Body of elder grace, wisdoms, ages.
In cast irreverence, seldom do crows
Visit, when they do there is menace
Of the Jinn, dark giants in the levels,
Mercifully, out of shame, they do not
Stay, black wings due, die in luminous
Day moon, rain soak sun, balmy mist.
On pilgrim journeys, whirlings, prayer
Wheels, guide shy flocks riding gnarl,
Indie goddess, to overreaching love,
By sores of hollow in the steps, open
To being, brindles of myriad meadow
In temple blossoms— numinous suns.
Of both earth and sky, shines a beauty,
Whose form is written in blistering bark,
The ciphers of tongue to Sanskrit leaves
And lost fruits, given over, unforbiddens,
Within old apple tree a great wilderness
And all the branch of wings are knowing.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 5:40 PM UTC
Don't leave, stay with me.
Stay with me, oh blossom tree.
Stay with me and remind me
that not everything is lost,
as you peer over the garden wall,
to greet the concrete
with your tears.
Don't go, don't leave
and just stay with me.
Stay with me, my bodhi tree.
You wear your hearts upon your eaves,
leaving love over pavements;
leading love to a truth
more honest,
than ever I could hope to be.
Don't fly, nest here
for one more night,
and stay with me.
Stay with me, weeping willow tree.
Stay with me and show me
the beauty through anguish.
Tell me, tell me that even
in these joyless days
of all potential, but minimum wage,
that there will always be art.
Don't go, stay with me.
Stay with me, old birch tree.
Stay with me and remind me
of the stories from last summer.
Walk with me to the wishing well,
past the skinny dog and naked Adena.
We can laugh through an endless afternoon.
We can quit our jobs and marry the summer.
But for each gasp of breath, of happiness,
soon follows with me falling under.
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
You and I go way back before time was invented,
Before the before.
You and I go deep into the smallest of the small,
The very parts of the ALL.
And we are beyond the beyond,
Over the edge, over the top
Gate gate paragate parasamgate bodhi svaha
We are here and we are now
And we always was and always will be.
We are that which remains
After all else is destroyed.
We are before the beginning and after the end.
There is no place where we are not.
We are at the center
Of the vast emptiness of space
As it resides in the heart, on the end of pin.
We are without and we are within.
You look in the mirror and you see me.
I look in the mirror and I see you.
There is no space between us
Because the “us” is the grand illusion
That resolves into one.
And so, shall we play?
Martin Hunter 8/14/2011
Aug 15, 2011
Aug 15, 2011 at 3:27 PM UTC