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"buddhists" poems
"They only burn themselves to reach Paradise" - Mne. Nhu original courage is good, motivation be ****** and if you say they are trained to feel no pain, are they guarenteed this? is it still not possible to die for somebody else? you sophisticates who lay back and make statements of explanation, I have seen the red rose burning and this means more.
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On The Fire Suicides Of The Buddhists
We stand against you, no matter what religion we are You will never divide us against each other We will be strong because we fight against evil You are the nemesis of the souls of humanity We will rise up and we will stand together You can not knock us down, we never will fall We are Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, Pagans....we are the World You can NEVER win.
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Sep 6, 2010
Sep 6, 2010 at 6:14 PM UTC
294: Words Against Terrorism
*a child is born free of mind but is hardened into thought and by the time one dies most are fixed and ******* into worlds of their making, heavens of their fantasies* so one thinks one's an Indian, one a Chinese or an American or British or Swedish or French or Russian or German; or one thinks one is a Christian or Muslim or Jew or Hindu or Sikh or Catholic or Doaist or Buddhist or Marxist or Communist or even for that matter, an atheist - or whatever you will... one finds a badge to pin proudly to one's chest and each identity becomes so strong it becomes so real it all comes into the question of right and wrong of evil and good and it falls into loud declamations and my tribe is good, your tribe is evil my brand is holy, your brand unholy... and so it goes, with all sorts of justifications that beat sense out of all loyal adherents and it squeezes humanity out of the human as paste out of a tube... ah, and yes, the energy goes on into the afterlife as Christians go into a Christian Heaven and Hindus and Buddhists into various Lokas and Muslims in their own Paradise and so it goes on, this Human Tragi-Comedy, yes, yes, certainly all created by the Almighty who was created by your mind's poverty so that a child is born free of mind but is hardened into thought and by the time one dies most are fixed and ******* into worlds of their making, heavens of their fantasies
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Oct 22, 2010
Oct 22, 2010 at 7:34 PM UTC
a child is born free of mind
NO OFFENCE MEANT TO ANYONE. JUST WORD PLAY. Many thoughts of saviours. Different deities. Varied idols. Doctrines unique, Sometimes similar. Holy books. Different sects, yes I said sects. Buddhists, Mormons, Muslims too, Hindus, Jews and Rastafarians. Pass the spliff, that one miffs me. Too name but only one or two. Garlands or flowers. Holy cows. Churches and temples. Mosques and mystic synagogues. Or even halls perpetuating to the Kingdom. Gis' us a pint of blood or not. Definitely not vampires,oops I forgot. "Cup of tea, love?" Welcome to the Mormons. Latter day saints? Jesus Christ, what a choice. My explanation, I'm agnostic. But, never on a Sunday. I don't want converting. (C) LIVVI
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Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
SAVING GRACE
I HATE THE IDEA OF SUFFERING, BUT WITH ME THE WAY I AM, I MUST SUFFER, BUT I SUFFER THOUGH BEING TREATED LIKE A LITTLE YOUNG DUDE CAUSE I WORRY ABOUT GETTING TREATED LIKE THE ONLY ONE IN MY FAMILY THAT WILL GET THREATENED AND KILLED, YOU SEE I BECAME A BUDDHIST BECAUSE I WANT TO BE SAVED IN MY BELIEFS, EVEN THOUGH ALL RELIGIONS ARE TRYING TO KEEP THE PEACE, YOU SEE I LIKE BUDDHISM, CAUSE, I CAN EXPLAIN MY PREVIOUS LIVES, LIKE GREAME THORNE AND PATRICK DUNBAR, 2 8 YEAR OLD BOYS THAT WERE KILLED, BUT I AM STILL SUFFERING BY THE CROWD UP IN THE HEAVENS GETTING GHOSTS OF ED GEIN AND STEVEN BRADLEY AND TED BUNDY, COMES OUT AND FORCES ME TO THROW MYSELF IN GARGAGE HOPPERS AND TIE MYSELF UP WITH VINNIES ROPE IN MITCHELL, SAYING KIDNAP ME TO AN ADULT, YA SEE, I AM A MAN WHO FOLLOWS THE PATH OF BUDDHISM, WHERE, I AM WILLING TO UNDERSTAND OTHER PEOPLE’S VIEWS, I AM SUFFERING THROUGH PATRICKS COOL KID, BECAUSE I COMMITTED A CRIME BACK IN 1990, HE CAN’T SEEM TO EXCEPT, TO LEAVE ME IN, WE ARE NOT AT SCHOOL ANYMORE AND I DON’T DO WHAT I USED TO DO, I LIKE LEARNING HOW TO BE AT PEACE UMMMMMMMM BRING ME PEACE UMMMMMMMM FIND ME INNER HAPPINESS UMMMMMMMM TAKE MY MATES OUT OF MY HEAD UMMMMMMM ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY SAY, MY BROTHER’S NOT AROUND ANYMORE UMMMMMMMM I WANT TO LIVE IN ADELAIDE SOME DAY UMMMMMMMM CAUSE IT’S A VERY FESTIVE CITY FOR ME UM,MMMMMMM TAKE DAD OUT OF MY HEAD, I AM NOT LIKE A YOUNG DUDE TO A **** UMMMMMMMMM LET ME BE REFORMED UMMMMMMMMM BRING ME PEACE, UMMMMMMM BRING ME PEACE UMMMMMMMMM BRING ME PEACE I DON’T WANT TO TRY AND BE THE ONLY ADULT OUT OF MY OLD MATES I DON’T WANT THAT VOICE WHEN ALL MY PREVIOUS LIVES MY FAMILY PATRICK AND DANIEL AND THE KIDS OF THE PAST ARE FLYING AROUND MY HEAD I HATE PEOPLE TEASING ME IN MY HEAD, UMMMMMMMMM I WANT TO BE A PEACEFUL BUDDHIST MAN I AM NO LONGER A KID OR A LADY, AND I AM NO LONGER A MAN TO A FIGHT I DON’T WANT TO BE A LITTLE YEAH MATE YEAH KID, UNLESS IT’S SHOWING OFF MY STORIES AND **** I AM A BUDDHIST, ARTIST WRITER YOUTUBE ENTERTAINER AND COOL PERSON COMING TO THE MALL WITH HIS COKE UMMMMMMMMMM BRING ME PEACE UMMMMMMMM BRING ME PEACE UMMMMMMMM BRING ME PEACE ONLY YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS OR NERDS CONCENTRATE ON BUDDHISM , I KNOW I AIN’T A NERD I BELIEVE BUDDHISTS MEND EVERY BLADE OF GRASS AND LIKE ME THEY BELIEVE IN REINCARNATION
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Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 4:57 AM UTC
I HATE SUFFERING, BUT BUDDHISM IS ABOUT SUFFERING TO SAVE THE WORLD, I LIKE SUFFERING TO SAVE THE WORLD
I HATE THE IDEA OF SUFFERING, BUT WITH ME THE WAY I AM, I MUST SUFFER, BUT I SUFFER THOUGH BEING TREATED LIKE A LITTLE YOUNG DUDE CAUSE I WORRY ABOUT GETTING TREATED LIKE THE ONLY ONE IN MY FAMILY THAT WILL GET THREATENED AND KILLED, YOU SEE I BECAME A BUDDHIST BECAUSE I WANT TO BE SAVED IN MY BELIEFS, EVEN THOUGH ALL RELIGIONS ARE TRYING TO KEEP THE PEACE, YOU SEE I LIKE BUDDHISM, CAUSE, I CAN EXPLAIN MY PREVIOUS LIVES, LIKE GREAME THORNE AND PATRICK DUNBAR, 2 8 YEAR OLD BOYS THAT WERE KILLED, BUT I AM STILL SUFFERING BY THE CROWD UP IN THE HEAVENS GETTING GHOSTS OF ED GEIN AND STEVEN BRADLEY AND TED BUNDY, COMES OUT AND FORCES ME TO THROW MYSELF IN GARGAGE HOPPERS AND TIE MYSELF UP WITH VINNIES ROPE IN MITCHELL, SAYING KIDNAP ME TO AN ADULT, YA SEE, I AM A MAN WHO FOLLOWS THE PATH OF BUDDHISM, WHERE, I AM WILLING TO UNDERSTAND OTHER PEOPLE’S VIEWS, I AM SUFFERING THROUGH PATRICKS COOL KID, BECAUSE I COMMITTED A CRIME BACK IN 1990, HE CAN’T SEEM TO EXCEPT, TO LEAVE ME IN, WE ARE NOT AT SCHOOL ANYMORE AND I DON’T DO WHAT I USED TO DO, I LIKE LEARNING HOW TO BE AT PEACE UMMMMMMMM BRING ME PEACE UMMMMMMMM FIND ME INNER HAPPINESS UMMMMMMMM TAKE MY MATES OUT OF MY HEAD UMMMMMMM ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY SAY, MY BROTHER’S NOT AROUND ANYMORE UMMMMMMMM I WANT TO LIVE IN ADELAIDE SOME DAY UMMMMMMMM CAUSE IT’S A VERY FESTIVE CITY FOR ME UM,MMMMMMM TAKE DAD OUT OF MY HEAD, I AM NOT LIKE A YOUNG DUDE TO A **** UMMMMMMMMM LET ME BE REFORMED UMMMMMMMMM BRING ME PEACE, UMMMMMMM BRING ME PEACE UMMMMMMMMM BRING ME PEACE I DON’T WANT TO TRY AND BE THE ONLY ADULT OUT OF MY OLD MATES I DON’T WANT THAT VOICE WHEN ALL MY PREVIOUS LIVES MY FAMILY PATRICK AND DANIEL AND THE KIDS OF THE PAST ARE FLYING AROUND MY HEAD I HATE PEOPLE TEASING ME IN MY HEAD, UMMMMMMMMM I WANT TO BE A PEACEFUL BUDDHIST MAN I AM NO LONGER A KID OR A LADY, AND I AM NO LONGER A MAN TO A FIGHT I DON’T WANT TO BE A LITTLE YEAH MATE YEAH KID, UNLESS IT’S SHOWING OFF MY STORIES AND **** I AM A BUDDHIST, ARTIST WRITER YOUTUBE ENTERTAINER AND COOL PERSON COMING TO THE MALL WITH HIS COKE UMMMMMMMMMM BRING ME PEACE UMMMMMMMM BRING ME PEACE UMMMMMMMM BRING ME PEACE ONLY YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS OR NERDS CONCENTRATE ON BUDDHISM , I KNOW I AIN’T A NERD I BELIEVE BUDDHISTS MEND EVERY BLADE OF GRASS AND LIKE ME THEY BELIEVE IN REINCARNATION
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hi dudes you see i am a koomarri,. but who gives a **** just like tyler hammond the kid you see he was ******** oh yeah he ****** was and i walk the dinosaur like was not was jump up jump down turn your body around, please baby walk the dinosaur open the door get on the floor, everybody walk the dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom, boom boom malacka acka boom walk the flaming dinosaur, walk him up and walk him down, walk him all around this town open the door get on the floor, walk the flaming dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom walk the dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom walk the flaming dinosaur you see to the world i look like a hooligan, walk the dinosaur simon said pick ya nose, walk the flaming dinosaur open the door and get on the floor walk the fucken dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom, walk it up and walk it down party all over tony abbott’s liberal frown ya see buddhists eat foods from sea and earth, they will walk the dinosaur and as they walk they say, boom boom malacka acka boom walk the flaming dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom the dinosaur needs to be walked and now john simmons went to the hospital to get an operation on his leg and the money beggars really really beg begging for mercy, begging for fun, kick conservos out on their *** boom, oh yeah boom boom malacka acka boom you see steven bradley has me again, let me out you dreadful man you see i am no longer a cool kid, i have lost my brothers credits because they want me protected you see, why bully me ya stupid old clown shake me up and shake me down graham kennedy is joining new families, oh yeah you see graham kennedy is walking around on earth maybe was william tyrell ya see because since he was abducted his old life graham kennedy said read this poem try and explain the uplifting version of death and bring my spirit back to the earth, cause people hate kids, really, buddy is downgrading yes william tyrell is formerly the aussie entertainer graham kennedy and he needs to be rescued ummmmm ummmmmm, find young william tyrell, PLEASE free the spirit of graham kennedy
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Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 1:18 AM UTC
graham kennedy is currently william tyrell
hi dudes you see i am a koomarri,. but who gives a **** just like tyler hammond the kid you see he was ******** oh yeah he ****** was and i walk the dinosaur like was not was jump up jump down turn your body around, please baby walk the dinosaur open the door get on the floor, everybody walk the dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom, boom boom malacka acka boom walk the flaming dinosaur, walk him up and walk him down, walk him all around this town open the door get on the floor, walk the flaming dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom walk the dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom walk the flaming dinosaur you see to the world i look like a hooligan, walk the dinosaur simon said pick ya nose, walk the flaming dinosaur open the door and get on the floor walk the fucken dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom, walk it up and walk it down party all over tony abbott’s liberal frown ya see buddhists eat foods from sea and earth, they will walk the dinosaur and as they walk they say, boom boom malacka acka boom walk the flaming dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom the dinosaur needs to be walked and now john simmons went to the hospital to get an operation on his leg and the money beggars really really beg begging for mercy, begging for fun, kick conservos out on their *** boom, oh yeah boom boom malacka acka boom you see steven bradley has me again, let me out you dreadful man you see i am no longer a cool kid, i have lost my brothers credits because they want me protected you see, why bully me ya stupid old clown shake me up and shake me down graham kennedy is joining new families, oh yeah you see graham kennedy is walking around on earth maybe was william tyrell ya see because since he was abducted his old life graham kennedy said read this poem try and explain the uplifting version of death and bring my spirit back to the earth, cause people hate kids, really, buddy is downgrading yes william tyrell is formerly the aussie entertainer graham kennedy and he needs to be rescued ummmmm ummmmmm, find young william tyrell, PLEASE free the spirit of graham kennedy
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Useless Money I often get petitioning letters so many people trying to find a place to live and only receive a bitter refusal and see their children die of thirst and hunger. I wish to help them, but no money in the world is enough to stop this flood of humanity seeking a haven flotsam, the wreck of the unfortunate and we can do nothing but look another way. Overwhelmed by the misery I can do little about, but the woman from Myanmar who won a medal for her tenacity, choose not to speak. The friendly Buddhists are killing Muslims in their midst, they have become refugees; the woman from Myanmar is voiceless. She, the upper-class daughter of a Burmese general Who aristocratic behaviour impressed us deeply, But I ask why she is staying silent now.
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May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 5:15 AM UTC
Useless money
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.
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Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 12:30 AM UTC
Mind- door
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.
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i am a happy happy happy dude if you say i am not happy your being rude cause i am a happy happy happy dude every single day of the year computer people can be happy too yeah yeah yeah mate yeah i am a happy happy happy dude i can’t stand negative ***** cause even in times i don’t look happy i am the happiest dude around happy happy happy dude, as i do my art my art makes the world really positive and that is what i try to be fruit salad yummy yummy right now for my tummy people who tease me are negative ***** who use their big boy power to get what he wants cause i am happy individual; as happy as can be i don’t have a job but i still am so happy if your happy and you know it do a **** if your happy and you know it do a **** if your happy and you know it and i rather stop bothering me cause i am a positive person every day come on negative and truthful ***** show us your cool side partying is only for positive people like me if your happy and you know it do a **** if your happy and you know it do a **** if your happy and you know it, and negative ***** should **** off away from me, with their negativity cause i am a positive dude, better than being all rude i hate you if your negative, ya stupid old loomarri i am so positive, i am really positive the messiah is the messiah of death and i am the king of living life yummy yummy yummy i got love in my tummy i think that saying i am a bigger boy is negative and i am positive, really really positive dad a tad negative until he grew old, but he still believes in fighting i don’t believe in violence i am too positive for that i believe in being nice to everyone we meet come on aussies be positive like brian allan come on buddhists be positive like brian allan the messiah teases like a negative **** AND I AM NOT NEGATIVE I AM EVER SO POSITIVE, NEVER BE NEGATIVE IF YOU WANT TO TALK TO BRIAN ALLAN I CAN’T STAND IT, dudes
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Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 12:43 AM UTC
brian allan is the most positive person
i am a happy happy happy dude if you say i am not happy your being rude cause i am a happy happy happy dude every single day of the year computer people can be happy too yeah yeah yeah mate yeah i am a happy happy happy dude i can’t stand negative ***** cause even in times i don’t look happy i am the happiest dude around happy happy happy dude, as i do my art my art makes the world really positive and that is what i try to be fruit salad yummy yummy right now for my tummy people who tease me are negative ***** who use their big boy power to get what he wants cause i am happy individual; as happy as can be i don’t have a job but i still am so happy if your happy and you know it do a **** if your happy and you know it do a **** if your happy and you know it and i rather stop bothering me cause i am a positive person every day come on negative and truthful ***** show us your cool side partying is only for positive people like me if your happy and you know it do a **** if your happy and you know it do a **** if your happy and you know it, and negative ***** should **** off away from me, with their negativity cause i am a positive dude, better than being all rude i hate you if your negative, ya stupid old loomarri i am so positive, i am really positive the messiah is the messiah of death and i am the king of living life yummy yummy yummy i got love in my tummy i think that saying i am a bigger boy is negative and i am positive, really really positive dad a tad negative until he grew old, but he still believes in fighting i don’t believe in violence i am too positive for that i believe in being nice to everyone we meet come on aussies be positive like brian allan come on buddhists be positive like brian allan the messiah teases like a negative **** AND I AM NOT NEGATIVE I AM EVER SO POSITIVE, NEVER BE NEGATIVE IF YOU WANT TO TALK TO BRIAN ALLAN I CAN’T STAND IT, dudes
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Grandpa melted two squirrels together using the fat from their bodies after skinning the skin from their bellies. They were dead before he began this project, of course. He's a taxidermist. Grandpa is surely to blame for many a nightmare– The jars of eyes and teeth collected from years of scraping corpses off the highway. But as the Buddhists preach, I've found some blessings in his macabre pastime. Most of my friends shy away from the undesirable aspects of life; Death bringing up the forefront. I feel that grandpa's melancholy menagerie has helped me Cozy up to the idea that despite life's bountiful beauty, A dark side coexists intertwined- But darkness is not always A bad thing... Is it?
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Oct 6, 2012
Oct 6, 2012 at 7:22 PM UTC
Grandpa Death
I tried not to look at it, But I couldn't help myself, The blue sky burying me completely, The sun shedding visibility On the edible chanterelles-- Little fungi, little mold spores Treated as food, soft and porous Sponges, fragile like egg shells. We hunt for the orange gleam Showing through the duff As if we are savages, Lost in our search, Forgetting our state. I'd forgotten what a sight they were: Unfunny clowns always having Arguments over who gets what space-- Quality family time. Every home is a miniature dictatorship. Now, savages rule our thoughts And actions; they fight For control; they Pump Estrogen into our System so that we Will not fight back. The dream is not a dream. The Police are a privilege For those who can buy it. All this was a week after The dust settled. There was no music. Even the chants of Buddhists Were silenced, the replacing hum One of screams And gunshots. The sound of Your enemies being sautéed Is what loss truly is: Accounts holding our Humanity Have been depleted. The only unclosed door Leads to Egypt. When I think of it now, What I remember is Debt. Once, I saw A college student Buying cheap ramen With a grin. And, in a dream once, There was no sound, No color. Everything Was the same—taste, Touch, smell. Red lipstick marks On a shirt would not Remain. And hippies, With their tie-dye clothes Were just working stiffs, Looking out a window To see Brick and mortar. They say, “This is your police state. This is your Haunted House, Your personal Winchester House With no exits. This is Your nightmare, Your stench. These are your maggots in your eyes. This is what you want.” We listen. I do not want to be The kind of person Who makes it okay To want to die.
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Dec 27, 2011
Dec 27, 2011 at 6:48 PM UTC
For Now
I tried not to look at it, But I couldn't help myself, The blue sky burying me completely, The sun shedding visibility On the edible chanterelles-- Little fungi, little mold spores Treated as food, soft and porous Sponges, fragile like egg shells. We hunt for the orange gleam Showing through the duff As if we are savages, Lost in our search, Forgetting our state. I'd forgotten what a sight they were: Unfunny clowns always having Arguments over who gets what space-- Quality family time. Every home is a miniature dictatorship. Now, savages rule our thoughts And actions; they fight For control; they Pump Estrogen into our System so that we Will not fight back. The dream is not a dream. The Police are a privilege For those who can buy it. All this was a week after The dust settled. There was no music. Even the chants of Buddhists Were silenced, the replacing hum One of screams And gunshots. The sound of Your enemies being sautéed Is what loss truly is: Accounts holding our Humanity Have been depleted. The only unclosed door Leads to Egypt. When I think of it now, What I remember is Debt. Once, I saw A college student Buying cheap ramen With a grin. And, in a dream once, There was no sound, No color. Everything Was the same—taste, Touch, smell. Red lipstick marks On a shirt would not Remain. And hippies, With their tie-dye clothes Were just working stiffs, Looking out a window To see Brick and mortar. They say, “This is your police state. This is your Haunted House, Your personal Winchester House With no exits. This is Your nightmare, Your stench. These are your maggots in your eyes. This is what you want.” We listen. I do not want to be The kind of person Who makes it okay To want to die.
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Dear State Counsellor. Once I saw you as an icon of morality. A bastion of hope. A ‘dancing peacock’ in a troubled world. Some called you the ‘midwife of democracy’. Others an ‘Oxford housewife’, a peacock ready to show its eyes. But now…. The Children, babies, women and men of the Rohingya are butchered, ***** and murdered by your soldiers as you read poetry to children. And the rest of the world stands by waiting for the Norwegians to take away your Nobel Peace Prize. Another sense of justice, lost again. The working hands of the Muslim men in Rakhine are tied by the Buddhists, the lovers of peace. Their guns gleaming and your army standing by. “It wasn’t us” say the Generals “It was the Buddhists”. But of course we have seen this before. At Srebrenica, Nanking, My Lai and Auschwitz, until the gas came. And the world stands by. Another failure, another genocide. Now, as your military load the death carts and bury mothers next to their children. The Buddhists place flowers on the mass graves. And I call for you and your ‘men’ to be accountable for those burnt by the sun.
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Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 9:18 PM UTC
A Letter to Aung San Suu Kyi
buddha buddha buddha no more nuclear bombs PLEASE buddha buddha buddha no more nuclear bombs you see too many people are causing explosions and each of their religions are partly to blame oh yeah oh yeah you will see buddha buddha buddha brings you no more nuclear bombs ya see each religion has it’s good points, yeah and christians try to control a nice can of beer by making us join AA you see buddhists do chants of grace yeah ya see buddha buddha buddha no more nuclear nuclear nuclear nuclear nuclear bombs please buddha send us no more nuclear nuclear bombs for us BUDDHA
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May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 12:45 PM UTC
A BUDDHIST POEM FOR BUDDHA DAY, MAY 25 2015
* Since you illuminated my SOUL Since your light pierced my being Since our LOVE happened... I am not eager for a journey I do not desire a caravan I do not yearn for a convoy I do not belong here I do not belong there I do not fit in a family I do not jell with friends The only thing that excites me is "YOU" BELOVEDZ, Belovedz, belovedz... The blessing of LOVE within me Desires "me" living in "YOU" The reward of seeking inner soul I desire to live in your being If there is ever any cure Of the good longing of my LOVE It is nothing but merging within YOU It is nothing but dying for YOU That's how and why "Nature" Presented YOU to my soul The divine healer for my devil LOVE Your eyes are medicine I drink The same medicine poisons my heart Becoming one with you is the only desire left It is my honor - our LOVE HAPPENED It will be a BIGGER honor I annihilate in YOU and YOUR LOVE I give my breathe in your LOVE I give my heart, my body, my life in your LOVE Though I've not decided to hold-on to your LOVE There is no way I can let go of your LOVE It's YOUR LOVE that beholds me and my being YOUR LOVE is the final destination of my LIFE YOUR LOVE was the thing Buddhists sought NIRVANA Yes, this is what your LOVE is all about Only those who LOVE Will understand the plight of my LOVE The sorrow, grief and misery of a LOVERz The one who stands tormented Without flinching in the "live-fire" Will understand what it is to be in "LOVE" My poem is for the flame - BELOVEDZ My poem is for the moth - LOVERZ No one else can even understand The depth of these poetic words in LOVE "The LOVE story of flame and moth" *
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Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 10:49 PM UTC
The LOVE Story of Flame and Moth
* Since you illuminated my SOUL Since your light pierced my being Since our LOVE happened... I am not eager for a journey I do not desire a caravan I do not yearn for a convoy I do not belong here I do not belong there I do not fit in a family I do not jell with friends The only thing that excites me is "YOU" BELOVEDZ, Belovedz, belovedz... The blessing of LOVE within me Desires "me" living in "YOU" The reward of seeking inner soul I desire to live in your being If there is ever any cure Of the good longing of my LOVE It is nothing but merging within YOU It is nothing but dying for YOU That's how and why "Nature" Presented YOU to my soul The divine healer for my devil LOVE Your eyes are medicine I drink The same medicine poisons my heart Becoming one with you is the only desire left It is my honor - our LOVE HAPPENED It will be a BIGGER honor I annihilate in YOU and YOUR LOVE I give my breathe in your LOVE I give my heart, my body, my life in your LOVE Though I've not decided to hold-on to your LOVE There is no way I can let go of your LOVE It's YOUR LOVE that beholds me and my being YOUR LOVE is the final destination of my LIFE YOUR LOVE was the thing Buddhists sought NIRVANA Yes, this is what your LOVE is all about Only those who LOVE Will understand the plight of my LOVE The sorrow, grief and misery of a LOVERz The one who stands tormented Without flinching in the "live-fire" Will understand what it is to be in "LOVE" My poem is for the flame - BELOVEDZ My poem is for the moth - LOVERZ No one else can even understand The depth of these poetic words in LOVE "The LOVE story of flame and moth" *
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50
I was doing research in Hubei Where they executed Yu, That deity soldier glorified By Buddhists, Taoists too, I sat perusing manuscripts That dated from the Ming, And came across a reference About Yu’s finger ring. A ring of gold so broad that it Would fit a peasant’s wrist, For Guan Yu was a mighty man His ring, an amethyst, Set round with groups of diamonds It was lost the day, they said, That Sun Quan had ordered them To lop off Guan Yu’s head. They lost it for a thousand years It turned up with the Ming, Was lost again in battle with That mighty force, the Qing, I’d heard it round the market place A whisper, now and then, That ring, it might have surfaced In the village of Maicheng. I scoured the streets and alleyways For signs of old antiques, Researching as I went, I walked Around the town for weeks, I found a backstreet corner shop One night, and open late, Run by a dodgy Chinaman A total reprobate. He had links to the Triads, they Would come into the shop, A shifty group of gangsters with Their stolen goods to pop, From where I sat with manuscripts Up on the second floor, I’d look straight down the staircase Watch them come in through the door. One day they brought in a bundle Tied up in a burlap sack, Threw it down on the counter, said: ‘What do you make of that?’ Fang Zhang then opened the parcel and He pulled out a giant hand, The flesh the texture of leather with A monstrous golden band. The ring was almost immoveable The hand, with fingers spread, Could grasp a maiden around the waist Or crush a warrior’s head, I held my breath as the Triad tried To disengage the thing, And all the while the diamonds flashed On that massive golden ring. Fang Zhang paid over a block of notes That looked more like a brick, There must have been a million Yuan From what I saw of it, The Triad left and I caught my breath Fang Zhang had pulled it off, He threw the hand in a ******* bin And then I left the shop. He hid the ring as I walked on through I had to get some air, I’d caught a glimpse of a famous ring, A thing I couldn’t share, They’d say it didn’t exist, that I Was dreaming, if I tried, They thought that it had been lost to view The day that Yu had died. I went back down the following day The Police were there in force, They stood out front and barred the way From normal *********** They told me through an interpreter Of the ****** of Fang Zhang, His face was black, for around his neck Was a massive, ringless hand! David Lewis Paget (Pronunciation: Guan Yu - Gwon you Hubei - Who - bay; Sun Quan - Sun Chu-arn Qing - Ching; Maicheng - My - cheng Fang Zhang - Fang Shjang (soft J))
0
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 9:26 PM UTC
Guan Yu's Finger Ring
I was doing research in Hubei Where they executed Yu, That deity soldier glorified By Buddhists, Taoists too, I sat perusing manuscripts That dated from the Ming, And came across a reference About Yu’s finger ring. A ring of gold so broad that it Would fit a peasant’s wrist, For Guan Yu was a mighty man His ring, an amethyst, Set round with groups of diamonds It was lost the day, they said, That Sun Quan had ordered them To lop off Guan Yu’s head. They lost it for a thousand years It turned up with the Ming, Was lost again in battle with That mighty force, the Qing, I’d heard it round the market place A whisper, now and then, That ring, it might have surfaced In the village of Maicheng. I scoured the streets and alleyways For signs of old antiques, Researching as I went, I walked Around the town for weeks, I found a backstreet corner shop One night, and open late, Run by a dodgy Chinaman A total reprobate. He had links to the Triads, they Would come into the shop, A shifty group of gangsters with Their stolen goods to pop, From where I sat with manuscripts Up on the second floor, I’d look straight down the staircase Watch them come in through the door. One day they brought in a bundle Tied up in a burlap sack, Threw it down on the counter, said: ‘What do you make of that?’ Fang Zhang then opened the parcel and He pulled out a giant hand, The flesh the texture of leather with A monstrous golden band. The ring was almost immoveable The hand, with fingers spread, Could grasp a maiden around the waist Or crush a warrior’s head, I held my breath as the Triad tried To disengage the thing, And all the while the diamonds flashed On that massive golden ring. Fang Zhang paid over a block of notes That looked more like a brick, There must have been a million Yuan From what I saw of it, The Triad left and I caught my breath Fang Zhang had pulled it off, He threw the hand in a ******* bin And then I left the shop. He hid the ring as I walked on through I had to get some air, I’d caught a glimpse of a famous ring, A thing I couldn’t share, They’d say it didn’t exist, that I Was dreaming, if I tried, They thought that it had been lost to view The day that Yu had died. I went back down the following day The Police were there in force, They stood out front and barred the way From normal *********** They told me through an interpreter Of the ****** of Fang Zhang, His face was black, for around his neck Was a massive, ringless hand! David Lewis Paget (Pronunciation: Guan Yu - Gwon you Hubei - Who - bay; Sun Quan - Sun Chu-arn Qing - Ching; Maicheng - My - cheng Fang Zhang - Fang Shjang (soft J))
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85
There was only one question on their final exam. “Are you a Christian?” The perturbed man inquired. The Buddhists were wounded, the Muslims were spared. To deny Christ; so easy, to bear witness; so hard, What would they answer; those about to meet God? Would they lie to be “saved”? or lie down in the sod. Nine souls were dispatched with a shot to the head, before police shot their interrogator dead. Nine people bore witness to the Cross at their death. They wouldn’t deny Him with their final breath. American Martyrs bore Him witness, you see. If you took this exam what would your answer be?
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Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 7:52 PM UTC
Their Final Exam
Look around and see, a lot of big topics: Mostly media nonsense and a global no-fix. Front Line. Headlines. "Natural" disasters Buddhists Scientists Pastors Government Theories. Political conspiracy, you'll see. We all claim to want "CHANGE" For what? 10 Lanes, bigger planes, sky trains? Is this the change you all are waiting for? Hoping for? Killing for? Dying for. This change has knocked us down to the floor. It's sad but it's true my buddy in Garfield said "Come Through, meet me at the corner store Angel, I need to tell you more." He says, "The struggle is real, the pain I feel IT consumes us daily. Lets all get away from this, maybe." Even the girls in County are all standing strong. Saying, "What we did was wrong." "I don't do things, I've done things." Says one girl quietly. 21 years old, lived her whole life in sobriety. Tears in her eyes, twinkling "I want change, we all do. We see the change in you. We hope you see it too."
0
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 11:50 AM UTC
C#@NGE
opening up an eclectic ruddy random selection of books to the sound of classical concerto dimmed to 'whelming' (neither under nor overwhelming), is like entering point after point to perspective to new brain after old brain after subject to object to alluvit, the few, the many-- 'on July 21st, 1936, Lockheed test pilot Elmer C. McLeod, with Amelia as copilot, took the new Electra up for its first official flight..' 'This is the picture of the Djinn making the beginnings of the Magic that brought the Humph to the Camel..' 'A block away from the museum doors, the guards still follow us, until a new group of guards from the next building has us under surveillance..' 'More and more, I suspect that Buddhists and shamans are correct..' 'I liked Bloodworth and in the spring we were going to play outfield together on that Lowell team, he whose name for years had mystified me when I saw it in Lowell High and Lowell Twi League boxscores-' 'if the world at large found it impossible to believe the truth of the Holocaust, even when provided with incontrovertible proof, Berliners presented with piecemeal evidence, rumour and hearsay were bound to dismiss such talk as enemy propaganda, or perverted fantasy. As Ursula Von Kardoff recalled after the war: 'we were realistic and pessimistic. But Auschwitz?'-  '"Twenty-five centavos." "Twenty-five centavos," repeated the Syrian in a firm voice with almost no accent.'--
0
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
partitions and the 'joke dichotomy'
GOD THE DEVIL AND BOB at easter today it’s good friday and bob delahunty was going to church to have a hot cross bun feast, and a hungry poor buddhist was going into the church and asked bob, why do the christians like to eat over easter, what is it all about and bob said, it’s a time where families, forget about their differences and share a big celebration, with hot cross buns today after their service and then on easter they will host family get togethers, where the kids are forced to hunt for eggs that the parents hid in the garden, it is a very good day, and the buddhist man said why can’t christians be nice to each other every day, like us buddhists ands bob said, well, i guess your right, but life hands us problems to fix, like divorce and family quarrels and battles that can’t be resolved, you see we are always away from loved ones and easter is a way to keep updated on where our loved ones are, and then the buddhist asked bob why can’t they scype every night and then bob said, buddy, no person really wants to do that, actually, it is great to give families fun at easter, like sending kids on easter hunts, how radical dude and have great hot cross bun morning teas, where we all can feast, yeah, if we did these things every day we would get so fat, and kids will be so greedy, and we need every city in the land to pop open the champagne corks, saying HAPPY EASTER DUDES, AND TO ALL A HAPPY FEASTING you see easter if you add an f, could mean, the annual feaster, but we took the f away to make you feel great and then the buddhist said, ok but what if you were fasting in a remote country and you had to knock back the hot cross buns and easter eggs and bob said ok, yeah, if your fasting you must say no, i am on a diet and the buddhist said, what if you went to a nightclub and got heavily ****** from vodkas and rums etc etc and get too drunk on easter saturday, are you still expected to roll up to family get togethers on easter sunday and bob said yes, then the buddhist said, how do you cope, HOW THE **** DO YOU COPE this is how, you sing god is the devil and the devil is grog god is the devil and the devil is grog god is the devil and the devil is grog especially round easter time where drinking may send you back and forwards to the sink spewing and the buddhist asked bob one thing, before he went to tiabet, he asked, is there really such thing as a devil because every night i drink a whole bottle of wine by myself and bob said, well if the devil was grog i think i am the devil, cause, grog is my cup of tea and the buddhist went home and bob left saying this one word, misbehave, everyone who drinks grog misbehaves and there is nothing wrong with that, bob said happy easter and went back to the devil’s hideout and the buddhist blessed him saying, the devil, there is no such thing
0
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 6:11 AM UTC
easter with god the devil and bob, and a homeless buddhist
GOD THE DEVIL AND BOB at easter today it’s good friday and bob delahunty was going to church to have a hot cross bun feast, and a hungry poor buddhist was going into the church and asked bob, why do the christians like to eat over easter, what is it all about and bob said, it’s a time where families, forget about their differences and share a big celebration, with hot cross buns today after their service and then on easter they will host family get togethers, where the kids are forced to hunt for eggs that the parents hid in the garden, it is a very good day, and the buddhist man said why can’t christians be nice to each other every day, like us buddhists ands bob said, well, i guess your right, but life hands us problems to fix, like divorce and family quarrels and battles that can’t be resolved, you see we are always away from loved ones and easter is a way to keep updated on where our loved ones are, and then the buddhist asked bob why can’t they scype every night and then bob said, buddy, no person really wants to do that, actually, it is great to give families fun at easter, like sending kids on easter hunts, how radical dude and have great hot cross bun morning teas, where we all can feast, yeah, if we did these things every day we would get so fat, and kids will be so greedy, and we need every city in the land to pop open the champagne corks, saying HAPPY EASTER DUDES, AND TO ALL A HAPPY FEASTING you see easter if you add an f, could mean, the annual feaster, but we took the f away to make you feel great and then the buddhist said, ok but what if you were fasting in a remote country and you had to knock back the hot cross buns and easter eggs and bob said ok, yeah, if your fasting you must say no, i am on a diet and the buddhist said, what if you went to a nightclub and got heavily ****** from vodkas and rums etc etc and get too drunk on easter saturday, are you still expected to roll up to family get togethers on easter sunday and bob said yes, then the buddhist said, how do you cope, HOW THE **** DO YOU COPE this is how, you sing god is the devil and the devil is grog god is the devil and the devil is grog god is the devil and the devil is grog especially round easter time where drinking may send you back and forwards to the sink spewing and the buddhist asked bob one thing, before he went to tiabet, he asked, is there really such thing as a devil because every night i drink a whole bottle of wine by myself and bob said, well if the devil was grog i think i am the devil, cause, grog is my cup of tea and the buddhist went home and bob left saying this one word, misbehave, everyone who drinks grog misbehaves and there is nothing wrong with that, bob said happy easter and went back to the devil’s hideout and the buddhist blessed him saying, the devil, there is no such thing
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34
The Church is the undying antagonist to the soul, What was once a pure practice, has now been sold, It's an undying commodity That sells definitive absolution, An unresting subsidy That force-feeds their pollution. - The throats of unsure masses, Are at their max capacity, The unknowing public, Craves Leaders' depravity. To find God, one must first find themself, Or find themself subjected To a liar's daunting Hell. The contradictions in the library of religions, Written on Earth by men, with their own conditions, Have soiled the name of God's Word, They chose the verses carefully to Distribute amongst the heard. - For Christians such as I, Where is Judas, where is Mary? Their gospels from the Holy Book Ripped out and now miscarried, Why did a peaceful Pope and King Sanctify a genocide? How do they know that Heaven, For this exception, will subside? - Does God not weep at the loss, Of any children slain upon his Earth? So then why must we put Hindus, Jews, Christians, Muslims, and Buddhists through eternal rebirth? - Each faction that lies herein Has flaws amongst themselves, The contradictory messages, Lie entwined and fervently spelled. - Why does each religion preach To love among another, Yet wars are caused on their basis, Of freedom from each other? Look into your heart of hearts, And "excuse" this ungodly behavior, Save yourself your ******* pity And start your own God to savor. Find within yourself what is right, Not to them, but to your own mind, God will see your heart open, With righteousness and kind. - We take the written, and copied oral stories, Scribed years after the event By man to mean they are of God's own lips And to man we do repent. That is blasphemy in itself And we lie to one another, About what we "know" to believe, And chastise our own brothers. - This is why fewer Believe, It is our elders' longing fault, That they cannot explain questions, Without expressing their own flaws. The generations are no longer stupid, But intelligent and wise, They do not see within themselves, That God himself in guise, Of tests and corrupt men, Within the religious establishment, These dictatorships, Are meant to blind us from within. Release your heart and remain steadfast, Their cultures cannot then bite, We will achieve Paradise through Freedom, And the evil, my God will smite.
0
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 7:30 AM UTC
This Is Blasphemy.
The Church is the undying antagonist to the soul, What was once a pure practice, has now been sold, It's an undying commodity That sells definitive absolution, An unresting subsidy That force-feeds their pollution. - The throats of unsure masses, Are at their max capacity, The unknowing public, Craves Leaders' depravity. To find God, one must first find themself, Or find themself subjected To a liar's daunting Hell. The contradictions in the library of religions, Written on Earth by men, with their own conditions, Have soiled the name of God's Word, They chose the verses carefully to Distribute amongst the heard. - For Christians such as I, Where is Judas, where is Mary? Their gospels from the Holy Book Ripped out and now miscarried, Why did a peaceful Pope and King Sanctify a genocide? How do they know that Heaven, For this exception, will subside? - Does God not weep at the loss, Of any children slain upon his Earth? So then why must we put Hindus, Jews, Christians, Muslims, and Buddhists through eternal rebirth? - Each faction that lies herein Has flaws amongst themselves, The contradictory messages, Lie entwined and fervently spelled. - Why does each religion preach To love among another, Yet wars are caused on their basis, Of freedom from each other? Look into your heart of hearts, And "excuse" this ungodly behavior, Save yourself your ******* pity And start your own God to savor. Find within yourself what is right, Not to them, but to your own mind, God will see your heart open, With righteousness and kind. - We take the written, and copied oral stories, Scribed years after the event By man to mean they are of God's own lips And to man we do repent. That is blasphemy in itself And we lie to one another, About what we "know" to believe, And chastise our own brothers. - This is why fewer Believe, It is our elders' longing fault, That they cannot explain questions, Without expressing their own flaws. The generations are no longer stupid, But intelligent and wise, They do not see within themselves, That God himself in guise, Of tests and corrupt men, Within the religious establishment, These dictatorships, Are meant to blind us from within. Release your heart and remain steadfast, Their cultures cannot then bite, We will achieve Paradise through Freedom, And the evil, my God will smite.
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77
Some Asian folk revere the Tao the way of Yang and Ying. Others worship ancestors and of Confucius sing. Buddhists seek a one way trip with no wish to return. Hindus think we're born again just not in Christian terms. Some follow in the steps of Christ, this life, their cross to bear. Others say Carpe Diem and just don't give a D*mm. Islamiscists eschew alcohol and never lunch on ham. This place has many faiths and creeds to suit our every mood. The voodoo that you do so well is with suspicion viewed. The foodists are the latest cult- a blight upon the land like Joey chestnut at buffets consuming all they can. To them no cow is sacred and wine just slakes their thirst They walk among us and they breed and I don''t know which is worse!
0
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 8:42 PM UTC
Comparative Religion
Buddhists monk Dressed in orange silk robe Sitting in the city’s square Burning incense and chanting prayers After seven day of fasting He sprinkles gasoline over his entire body Then, lighting a match Becoming this human touch Bringing light to this world
0
Feb 26, 2011
Feb 26, 2011 at 7:07 PM UTC
Orange Silk Robe
itself, it was much in comparison. butane huffed thru handkerchief blood-nose, brain-stem dripping with a wet cleft hemorrhaging knowledge like the internet. billowing smoke from the consignment allegory of a whokah we all shared 'til confusion had us asking. I waited like a trail for a ballerina to tip-toe her way up my spine toward a waiting lake; cold and warm in a nature so solvent.. quiet.. peripheries embedded with industry postured on rocks, metal buddhists asking all to vague-labor meditate 8 hrs a day, 5 days a week == sleepless like dreaming, sleepless experience wafting through an open bedroom door as chicken dinner.
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Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 3:51 AM UTC
dharma-body wellspring
The Buddhists say To clear the mind And achieve emptiness Follow your breath Why is it when I Breathe in, breathe out Emptiness is replaced By a poem in its place
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Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 1:48 PM UTC
On Meditation