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"dalai" poems
hit the road i’ve been bold talking in my sleep i grit my teeth walking the streets at night i’ve decided that everything is emptiness everything as i know it, is emptiness how refreshing life is how incredibly refreshing my mind is my mind is emptiness my heart is emptiness my lust is emptiness my love is emptiness my thoughts, my theories, my ambitions, my abortions, my cheating, lying habits, my dreams, my girlfriends, my world, my room, my hate, my anger, my joy, my pain are all emptiness nothing happens nothing is a word and words don’t exist the way that i am tied to words is emptiness the alcoholism is emptiness the drugs are emptiness the friends are emptiness my family is emptiness i am emptiness there is no support, no conflict, no harbored poor emotions, no bold ideas, no sympathy, no death, no life and no person. thank god, allah, buddha, shiva, abraham, dalai lama, bob dobbs, the cosmos, myself and all those other wonderful concepts that don’t exist because they are mere words.
0
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 5:54 PM UTC
..desolation, no, enlightenment..
Cloud that I float on, carry me to Peru send to me exotic birds, bearing gifts of aqua blue Lets take a detour through the mountains of Kandahar for it doesn't bother me if I come out with battle scars Oh please, oh please can we stop in Dharamsala I have some questions to ask His Holiness, the Dalai Lama Cloud, if its possible can we please time travel? I want to see how they built the pyramids from dirt, stone, and gravel Lets defy gravity, next stop Andromeda being 2 million light-years away we'll see scores of space phenomena Our next and final stop shall be a place called peace take me there, please cloud, but on the way lets visit Greece. -Bobbie Leigh
0
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 1:50 PM UTC
Imaginary Traveler
The youth Youth is weird, Somewhat interesting. An adult pop rock mix With child soda pop. Youth is Coca-Cola, Marlboro, whiskey and energy, The eternal monologue of life, ID number, property tax and Netflix. Youth is John Lennon, Che, Fidel and Hendrix, Contemporary history, ancient and medieval history. Youth is pants ripped jeans, Popsicle, lollipop, painted face, Chicle, coffee and french fries, Point G, miniskirt and condoms. Youth is the Dalai Lama, Techno, rave and rasta, Drugs, drops and guitar, Punk, samba and hopefully that-fall. Youth is the opposite of the opposite, It's a Friday at midnight, Mustard, ketchup and mayonnaise, X-salad, ham and cheese sandwich and X-men. Youth is D-Day, Vietnam, Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Testosterone, Woodstock and Waterloo, Afghanistan, TPM and MTV. Youth is a pressure cooker, Isis, Syria, sukiyaki, Anonymous, Al Qaeda, rice and beans, Genesis, Revelation and mint candy. Youth is weird, Somewhat interesting. An adult pop rock mix With child soda pop.
0
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 7:25 AM UTC
THE YOUTH
Strange question indeed, So I asked one and all; Explain to me: “What's a plumber's ball?” Family and friends Heeded my call, But none could confine, Refine or define it, Yet Paul was sure He could design it. Still, none could satisfy My caterwaul: “What the hell is a plumber's ball?” Does it sweat the pipe Or wiggle the snake: Can it clamp the ****** For Heaven's sake? Could it snap on the cock-hole cover? All these queries Made me wonder. Has it something to do With hardness leakage, Or ******** the ball-cock To stop a seepage? Has it anything to do With a saddle valve dripping, Electric eels, Or two pipes mating? And, I heard of male and female fittings, And should I worry If I'm standing or sitting? If you're discharging the head Or elongating the pipe, Does the plumber's ball Help it snug tight? Is it in my tank, Or in my bowl, Beneath the floor Near the drainage hole? Is the plumber's ball In the back of the truck (Jeff laughed and said One could rub it for luck). I asked Michel If he could tell, He sensed it was something He could smell. I sought out Ray, Perhaps he'd know, But he was on call To restrain a back-flow. I couldn't ask Gary For his wisdom and sense, He was wigglin' the snake To unclog a wet vent. Henry, Rick, Scotty and Brian, Gave shameless answers I couldn't rely on. It's not a crapper, tail piece Or Johnnie-bolt, Or catch basin, reamer, O-ring or pipe dope. So I searched the Net With a fool's wonder, And read of ball-checks, Gas ***** and plungers. I know it's too late To ask Rolly or Ross, For both of them knew, And that's our loss. And Ernie's gone golfing So I can't ask the Boss. With final resolve I fell to my knees, To pray St. Ferrer With grace intercede. His silence left me In a state of depression; Had Ferrer washed his hands Of the plumbing profession? So nothing could settle My wherewithal, I still didn't know, What's a plumber's ball? Suddenly, it hit me, He's never wrong, The Dalai Lama of dip-tubes, I'll ask John. Where others did falter, John's a rock: He knows the difference Between a gas and ball **** With a knowing smile He embraced our Hall: Here, good friend, is your Plumbers' Ball.
0
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 9:10 AM UTC
What's a Plumber's Ball
Strange question indeed, So I asked one and all; Explain to me: “What's a plumber's ball?” Family and friends Heeded my call, But none could confine, Refine or define it, Yet Paul was sure He could design it. Still, none could satisfy My caterwaul: “What the hell is a plumber's ball?” Does it sweat the pipe Or wiggle the snake: Can it clamp the ****** For Heaven's sake? Could it snap on the cock-hole cover? All these queries Made me wonder. Has it something to do With hardness leakage, Or ******** the ball-cock To stop a seepage? Has it anything to do With a saddle valve dripping, Electric eels, Or two pipes mating? And, I heard of male and female fittings, And should I worry If I'm standing or sitting? If you're discharging the head Or elongating the pipe, Does the plumber's ball Help it snug tight? Is it in my tank, Or in my bowl, Beneath the floor Near the drainage hole? Is the plumber's ball In the back of the truck (Jeff laughed and said One could rub it for luck). I asked Michel If he could tell, He sensed it was something He could smell. I sought out Ray, Perhaps he'd know, But he was on call To restrain a back-flow. I couldn't ask Gary For his wisdom and sense, He was wigglin' the snake To unclog a wet vent. Henry, Rick, Scotty and Brian, Gave shameless answers I couldn't rely on. It's not a crapper, tail piece Or Johnnie-bolt, Or catch basin, reamer, O-ring or pipe dope. So I searched the Net With a fool's wonder, And read of ball-checks, Gas ***** and plungers. I know it's too late To ask Rolly or Ross, For both of them knew, And that's our loss. And Ernie's gone golfing So I can't ask the Boss. With final resolve I fell to my knees, To pray St. Ferrer With grace intercede. His silence left me In a state of depression; Had Ferrer washed his hands Of the plumbing profession? So nothing could settle My wherewithal, I still didn't know, What's a plumber's ball? Suddenly, it hit me, He's never wrong, The Dalai Lama of dip-tubes, I'll ask John. Where others did falter, John's a rock: He knows the difference Between a gas and ball **** With a knowing smile He embraced our Hall: Here, good friend, is your Plumbers' Ball.
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95
Heaven and Hell: The Parable of the Long Spoons Post written by Sofo *What is heaven? What is hell? The parable of the Long Spoons explains very well what heaven and hell truly are. One day a man said to God, “God, I would like to know what Heaven and Hell are like.”* God showed the man two doors. Inside the first one, in the middle of the room, was a large round table with a large *** of stew. It smelled delicious and made the man’s mouth water, but the people sitting around the table were thin and sickly. They appeared to be famished. They were holding spoons with very long handles and each found it possible to reach into the *** of stew and take a spoonful, but because the handle was longer than their arms, they could not get the spoons back into their mouths. The man shuddered at the sight of their misery and suffering. God said, “You have seen Hell.” Behind the second door, the room appeared exactly the same. There was the large round table with the large *** of wonderful stew that made the man’s mouth water. The people had the same long-handled spoons, but they were well nourished and plump, laughing and talking. The man said, “I don’t understand.” God smiled. It is simple, he said. Love only requires one skill. These people learned early on to share and feed one another. While the greedy only think of themselves… [Author unknown] *Sometimes, thinking of our personal gratification, we tend to forget our interdependence with everyone and everything around us. Not to help our fellow human beings simply means harming our very selves, since we are all connected on a very deep level. If you want others to be happy, practise compassion. If you want to be happy, practise compassion.* ~Dalai Lama                by Sofo
0
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
The Parable of the Long Spoons (by Sofo)
Heaven and Hell: The Parable of the Long Spoons Post written by Sofo *What is heaven? What is hell? The parable of the Long Spoons explains very well what heaven and hell truly are. One day a man said to God, “God, I would like to know what Heaven and Hell are like.”* God showed the man two doors. Inside the first one, in the middle of the room, was a large round table with a large *** of stew. It smelled delicious and made the man’s mouth water, but the people sitting around the table were thin and sickly. They appeared to be famished. They were holding spoons with very long handles and each found it possible to reach into the *** of stew and take a spoonful, but because the handle was longer than their arms, they could not get the spoons back into their mouths. The man shuddered at the sight of their misery and suffering. God said, “You have seen Hell.” Behind the second door, the room appeared exactly the same. There was the large round table with the large *** of wonderful stew that made the man’s mouth water. The people had the same long-handled spoons, but they were well nourished and plump, laughing and talking. The man said, “I don’t understand.” God smiled. It is simple, he said. Love only requires one skill. These people learned early on to share and feed one another. While the greedy only think of themselves… [Author unknown] *Sometimes, thinking of our personal gratification, we tend to forget our interdependence with everyone and everything around us. Not to help our fellow human beings simply means harming our very selves, since we are all connected on a very deep level. If you want others to be happy, practise compassion. If you want to be happy, practise compassion.* ~Dalai Lama                by Sofo
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13
HaHA, I've done it!  I've created a device That can tap into my subconscious and translate it for all to hear. I will win the Nobel Prize! I will be rich beyond my wildest dreams! People will LIKE me! So let's see here....I put on the cap, set the throttobombulator to 8. Adjust for fuzzy dialation...set the circuit threshold to .79, make sure the lucid translation synapses are firing...and yes.  The next words you hear will surely be written in History books one day, much like Thomas Edison's first phonograph recording, or the first telephone call! Neural connection is active.  Transmitting **TRANSGENDERED KANGAROOS FORNICATE IN THE PURPLE SHADE OF BETTE MIDLER'S THIGHS.  PLEASE PERFORM ******** AT THE BEHEST OF BUDDHIST MONKS WITH LISPS.  COUNT TO TEN AND BECOME A BUXOM BLONDE ***** WITH BOUNCY *******   WHEN THE CLOCK STRIKES TWELVE, CINDARELLA IS ON HER KNEES AND ELBOWS BECAUSE IT'S ****** HARD TO GET LOW ENOUGH TO PLEASURE A DWARF** Oh dear.  This can't be right....now where's that 'off' switch? **JACK AND JILL WENT OFF THE PILL SO JACK COULD BE A FATHER.  JACK WENT DOWN TO LONDON TOWN AND PUNCHED THE DALAI LAMA.  EDIBLE ******* GIVE YOU INDIGESTION.  DO YOU KISS YOUR MOTHER WITH THAT MOUTH, BECAUSE YOU SHOULD. (AND USE SOME TONGUE THIS TIME)** Oh My...Ladies and Gentlemen, It's clear that my invention is experiencing technical difficulties.  If you would please be patient--- **SATIN BRAS DON'T CHAFE.  NONE OF THE SMURFS HAD BLUE ***** THANKS TO SMURFETTE.  I WONDER WHAT MARY MAGDELINE WAS LIKE IN THE SACK?  ** STUPIDSmashPieceSmashof GARBAGESMASH DoNT LikE iT?  tucK iT bAcK!! Connection Lost I...erm...clearly have some more work to do before it is ready for the pubic--er..public.  I have run into some...translation errors...and need to re lubricate--CALIBRATE a few things. Please don't tell my mother.
0
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 12:12 AM UTC
The Dam is Breached
HaHA, I've done it!  I've created a device That can tap into my subconscious and translate it for all to hear. I will win the Nobel Prize! I will be rich beyond my wildest dreams! People will LIKE me! So let's see here....I put on the cap, set the throttobombulator to 8. Adjust for fuzzy dialation...set the circuit threshold to .79, make sure the lucid translation synapses are firing...and yes.  The next words you hear will surely be written in History books one day, much like Thomas Edison's first phonograph recording, or the first telephone call! Neural connection is active.  Transmitting **TRANSGENDERED KANGAROOS FORNICATE IN THE PURPLE SHADE OF BETTE MIDLER'S THIGHS.  PLEASE PERFORM ******** AT THE BEHEST OF BUDDHIST MONKS WITH LISPS.  COUNT TO TEN AND BECOME A BUXOM BLONDE ***** WITH BOUNCY *******   WHEN THE CLOCK STRIKES TWELVE, CINDARELLA IS ON HER KNEES AND ELBOWS BECAUSE IT'S ****** HARD TO GET LOW ENOUGH TO PLEASURE A DWARF** Oh dear.  This can't be right....now where's that 'off' switch? **JACK AND JILL WENT OFF THE PILL SO JACK COULD BE A FATHER.  JACK WENT DOWN TO LONDON TOWN AND PUNCHED THE DALAI LAMA.  EDIBLE ******* GIVE YOU INDIGESTION.  DO YOU KISS YOUR MOTHER WITH THAT MOUTH, BECAUSE YOU SHOULD. (AND USE SOME TONGUE THIS TIME)** Oh My...Ladies and Gentlemen, It's clear that my invention is experiencing technical difficulties.  If you would please be patient--- **SATIN BRAS DON'T CHAFE.  NONE OF THE SMURFS HAD BLUE ***** THANKS TO SMURFETTE.  I WONDER WHAT MARY MAGDELINE WAS LIKE IN THE SACK?  ** STUPIDSmashPieceSmashof GARBAGESMASH DoNT LikE iT?  tucK iT bAcK!! Connection Lost I...erm...clearly have some more work to do before it is ready for the pubic--er..public.  I have run into some...translation errors...and need to re lubricate--CALIBRATE a few things. Please don't tell my mother.
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40
Somewhere in your wardrobe, I'd be willing to bet There's a t-shirt probably bearing the silhouette of Che Guevara He was revolutionary, yeah, he wore a cool hat But behind the design I think you might find it's not quite as simple as that Che was a bit of a homophobe, Che was a bit of a homophobe, I think... apparently.. who knows? Che was a bit of a homophobe, Che was a bit of a homophobe This is my song in defence of the fence A little sing along, a anthem to ambivalence The more you know, the harder you will find it To make up your mind, it, doesn't really matter if you find You can't see which grass is greener Chances are it's neither, and either way it's easier To see the difference, when you're sitting on the fence Somewhere in your house, I'd be willing to bet There's a picture of that grinning hippy from Tibet - the Dalai Llama He's a lovely, funny fella, he gives soundbites galore But let's not forget that back in Tibet, those funky monks used to **** the poor, yeah And the Buddhist line about future lives is the perfect way to stop the powerless rising up And he tells the poor they will live again, but he's rich now so it's easy for him to say I'm taking the stand in defense of the fence I got a little band playing anthems to ambivalence We divide the world into terrorists and heroes Into normal folk and weirdos Into good people and pedo's Into things that give you cancer and the things that cure cancer And the things that don't cause cancer, but there's a chance they will cause cancer in the future We divide the world to stop us feeling frightened Into wrong and into right and Into black and into white and Into real men and fairies Into status quo and scary Yeah we want the world binary, binary But it's not that simple. And your dog has a bigger carbon footprint than a four wheel drive Yea your dog has a bigger carbon footprint than a four wheel drive And your dog has a bigger carbon footprint than a four wheel drive And so does your baby, maybe you oughta trade HIM in for a Prius- ROCK! I'm taking the stand in defence of the fence I got a little band playing tributes to ambivalence We divide the world into liberals and gun-freaks Into atheists and fundies Into tee-tot'lers and junkies Into chemical and natural Into fictional and factual Into science and supernatural But it's actually naturally not that white and black You'll be Dividing us into terrorists and heroes Into normal folk and weirdos Into good people and pedos Into things that give you cancer and the things that cure cancer And things that don't cause cancer, but there's a chance they will cause cancer in the future We divide the world to stop us feeling frightened Into wrong and into right and Into black and into white and Into real men and fairies Into parrots and canaries Yeah we want the world binary, binary - 011101! The more you know, the harder you will find it To make up your mind, it doesn't really matter if you find You can't see which grass is greener Chances are it's neither, and either way it's easier To see the difference Cause it's not that simple...
0
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 7:06 PM UTC
The Fence by Tim Minchin
Somewhere in your wardrobe, I'd be willing to bet There's a t-shirt probably bearing the silhouette of Che Guevara He was revolutionary, yeah, he wore a cool hat But behind the design I think you might find it's not quite as simple as that Che was a bit of a homophobe, Che was a bit of a homophobe, I think... apparently.. who knows? Che was a bit of a homophobe, Che was a bit of a homophobe This is my song in defence of the fence A little sing along, a anthem to ambivalence The more you know, the harder you will find it To make up your mind, it, doesn't really matter if you find You can't see which grass is greener Chances are it's neither, and either way it's easier To see the difference, when you're sitting on the fence Somewhere in your house, I'd be willing to bet There's a picture of that grinning hippy from Tibet - the Dalai Llama He's a lovely, funny fella, he gives soundbites galore But let's not forget that back in Tibet, those funky monks used to **** the poor, yeah And the Buddhist line about future lives is the perfect way to stop the powerless rising up And he tells the poor they will live again, but he's rich now so it's easy for him to say I'm taking the stand in defense of the fence I got a little band playing anthems to ambivalence We divide the world into terrorists and heroes Into normal folk and weirdos Into good people and pedo's Into things that give you cancer and the things that cure cancer And the things that don't cause cancer, but there's a chance they will cause cancer in the future We divide the world to stop us feeling frightened Into wrong and into right and Into black and into white and Into real men and fairies Into status quo and scary Yeah we want the world binary, binary But it's not that simple. And your dog has a bigger carbon footprint than a four wheel drive Yea your dog has a bigger carbon footprint than a four wheel drive And your dog has a bigger carbon footprint than a four wheel drive And so does your baby, maybe you oughta trade HIM in for a Prius- ROCK! I'm taking the stand in defence of the fence I got a little band playing tributes to ambivalence We divide the world into liberals and gun-freaks Into atheists and fundies Into tee-tot'lers and junkies Into chemical and natural Into fictional and factual Into science and supernatural But it's actually naturally not that white and black You'll be Dividing us into terrorists and heroes Into normal folk and weirdos Into good people and pedos Into things that give you cancer and the things that cure cancer And things that don't cause cancer, but there's a chance they will cause cancer in the future We divide the world to stop us feeling frightened Into wrong and into right and Into black and into white and Into real men and fairies Into parrots and canaries Yeah we want the world binary, binary - 011101! The more you know, the harder you will find it To make up your mind, it doesn't really matter if you find You can't see which grass is greener Chances are it's neither, and either way it's easier To see the difference Cause it's not that simple...
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66
Motion makes me homesick, home makes me motion-sick. I've seen some **** you wouldn't believe in the past month of my young life I'm happy. Makes me want more. I want Guatemala I want Nepal I want the States by trains and motorcycles. I want to make something tall enough to shake hands with god and strong enough to last to the ends of the earth Or longer. I want to give the world back all I've taken from it and all the damage I've done. And then I want to do more. I want to start a revolution, live on a farm, paint a mural, play a symphony, shake hands with the Dalai Lama, write a book, and be home in time for dinner. I want to fold a thousand and one oragami cranes and set them free from space and while they float down to Mauritania and Portugal, to Argentina and Cambodia I want to wish for a reset button. Not to use right away, but just in case **** gets out of hand. So we've got a backup plan. I want to sit in my old age looking down that darkened tunnel and see my own birth pass before my eyes. I want to embrace infinity without soreness or shortcomings, without excuses or refusals I want to watch the universe collapse back in on itself and be part of everything at once. I want more than I can handle. I guess that means I'm young.
0
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 1:28 AM UTC
Young
They bribed me with promises of Audis and poverty reduction. A six-figure salary, insurance, and free weekends. They lured me with Prada bags, Chanel Shades and scarves by Hermes. Vacations in Nice, transits in Paris, and business trips to Beijing. They said I could meet the Dalai Lama, Bill Gates and the Queen of England, have wine with Sarkozy, break bread with Al Gore, and kiss Prince William. They dangled real men, real love and post-marital affairs in front of me and gave me dreams of seven husbands and no divorces. They convinced me to grow up and walk across the stage, and their promises made me smile as I crossed over to the other side. Today, I lay in my hammock wishing they’d promised me a job as well.
0
Dec 12, 2011
Dec 12, 2011 at 11:22 AM UTC
Graduation Promises
Joy Kogawa’s Obasan, Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle, Fitzgerald’s Great Gatsby, The Ninja Handbook…? Dalai Lama’s Open Heart, Haddon’s Curious Incident, Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment, Brook’s World War Z…? *The Life of Adolf ****** Crichton’s Terminal Man, e.e. cumming’s poems, Jon Stewart’s America…? Dante’s Divine Comedy, Leonard’s Rules of Writing, Poe’s Complete Tales and Poems, Book of Useless Information…? Smith’s Junk English? How to Lose a Battle? The Ultimate Guide to Spider-man...? I’m beginning to have my doubts…
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Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 10:20 PM UTC
Library of the Gods
Genuinely a human being is suppose to listen to bees Bees are little bumblebees Dalai Lama is the Cutest of them All Beings Endure good~ness Bye With a mission Working sweetly Wonderfully unselfish Unending For a greater  cause Forgetting about the fame and the flattery laurels Achievements and Archibalds Focusing on liveliness of a recent call n Frivolous flattering sounds Are gentle blessings You'd recon that I adore your Intense passion for Poetry By the looks By shut eyes  eager to be soon open for a glimpse of Outerness The listeners are performing With slightest ****** mimics With crossed legs open Changing a position Scrathes on head Winking Nodding Inwardly borne self dialogues Your soliloquy Is the sea of Love, life Loving Me By the memory Reciting Bits of your heart beats When the tin noise   Of your crying Tears tears Apart Interrupted Rumbles When you dream of the mortal coils descendant As a halflings brought together through Dissolving into the golden Cocoons You've seen two Butterflies I've seen one amongst many Each a divine gift Within wholeness You There's No peace When you dissapear And I yearn to visit a cultural event In total darkness (if i shut my poetic eyelids and cover them with both palms) then maybe only the blood's tiniest brooks within my fingers may start the signal for the motion pictures inside the ideal world The World's Spinning In a Absolutely Poetic Manner Kirchenblau Let me embrace peacfulness Within the secret garden Let me taste of your Nectary thoughts Let me lead you through Thundery waters Silk veils and lyricism Let me lead you through Fire and ice n'all that is Nice Let me . . . oh . . . Let me Suffice
0
Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 2:44 PM UTC
Humble Bumblebee
Genuinely a human being is suppose to listen to bees Bees are little bumblebees Dalai Lama is the Cutest of them All Beings Endure good~ness Bye With a mission Working sweetly Wonderfully unselfish Unending For a greater  cause Forgetting about the fame and the flattery laurels Achievements and Archibalds Focusing on liveliness of a recent call n Frivolous flattering sounds Are gentle blessings You'd recon that I adore your Intense passion for Poetry By the looks By shut eyes  eager to be soon open for a glimpse of Outerness The listeners are performing With slightest ****** mimics With crossed legs open Changing a position Scrathes on head Winking Nodding Inwardly borne self dialogues Your soliloquy Is the sea of Love, life Loving Me By the memory Reciting Bits of your heart beats When the tin noise   Of your crying Tears tears Apart Interrupted Rumbles When you dream of the mortal coils descendant As a halflings brought together through Dissolving into the golden Cocoons You've seen two Butterflies I've seen one amongst many Each a divine gift Within wholeness You There's No peace When you dissapear And I yearn to visit a cultural event In total darkness (if i shut my poetic eyelids and cover them with both palms) then maybe only the blood's tiniest brooks within my fingers may start the signal for the motion pictures inside the ideal world The World's Spinning In a Absolutely Poetic Manner Kirchenblau Let me embrace peacfulness Within the secret garden Let me taste of your Nectary thoughts Let me lead you through Thundery waters Silk veils and lyricism Let me lead you through Fire and ice n'all that is Nice Let me . . . oh . . . Let me Suffice
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78
Keep your fists in the air, Like the line from my favorite Beastie Boys song, “You’ve gotta fight for your right” Making sacrificial lambs of your youth I wish the Dalai Lama would commend you Young warriors Keeping your heritage wrapped around the soles of your feet as you march in protest Crying out for help, I feel the torment of hypocrisy I am disgusted, How can we be so blind? How can we put our want for economic stability over the extermination of an entire culture? The Middle Way is no way to go The 21st century equivalent to the Trail of Tears The silent “members” of the Chinese society Fight tooth and nail for the right to speak your language It is beautiful.
0
Dec 12, 2011
Dec 12, 2011 at 4:37 PM UTC
To the People of Tibet.
My life has been all about thoughts fighting with thoughts about thinking, about to think or not to think, and it was an interesting war but stupid and I learned a lot about nothing and it was extremely painful. This war was started by who knows who for no reason. I have decided, along with the Dalai Lama, that what is needed is a dialogue, so mind has been talking to mind about what the reality of this is. We have decided that the reality of this is a headache, which could, in time, get better.
0
Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 5:25 AM UTC
Mind Fighting Mind
1. SeaChance                                               Twitter May 4th, 2010 8:40 AM    A Shipwrecked Voyage - 1 - 9 20 minutes ago via web o Delete 2. DalaiLama You can develop patience and change your attitudes with continuous practice - the human mind has such potential.20 minutes ago via web 3. SeaChance Verse 1: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/verse-1/ via @addthis20 minutes ago via web o 4. SeaChance Verse 2: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/verse-2/ via @addthis21 minutes ago via web o 5. SeaChance Verse 3: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/verse-3/ via @addthis21 minutes ago via web o 6. SeaChance Verse 4: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/verse-4/ via @addthis21 minutes ago via web o 7. SeaChance Verse 5: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/verse-5/ via @addthis22 minutes ago via web o 8. SeaChance Verse 6: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/verse-6/ via @addthis22 minutes ago via web            A shipwrecked Voyage: Verses 1 – 9 can be found at http://chrischance.tumblr.com
0
May 4, 2010
May 4, 2010 at 5:15 AM UTC
Me, The Dalai Lama and Twitter
I take my knowledge from architects, medieval painters and galore. I walk along the stretch of times, Read the Canterbury Tales from folks of yore. I've written literature in my own dialect, through the beautiful English language. I find awe in the act of creation, new etymologies where old writers anguished. My words: symphonies of the beloved and dead Beethoven; like the arias of Wagner. I am the high priest, the new catholicicist propogandising as your Cardinal. I am the spiritual technology, provided to the ailment of what we call society. I am the new Ghandi, the Dalai Lama deservedly inspiring your piety. I am the Luciferous angel of life, breathing heaven through the cesspool of Earth. I am the post-modern Romeo and Juliet, Warhol's 15 minutes of fame and worth. I am the Alexander Mcqueen, the metaphilosopher of fabric illusions. I am the lyricist of society, speaking through the castrated eunychs. I am Stephanie Myer, inspiration of vampiric genius to adolescent impressionables. I am Jane Austen, author of new age thrillers such as The Secret and Lesbian Misérables I am the eclipsing of twilight, the post-mortem autopsy of a rotting cadaver. I am Heath Ledger and Michael Jackson, legends inspiring a race of sleeping pill grabbers. I am the Blockbuster, the Titanic Avatar, $4.9 Billion to children in poverty. I am Gangnam Style, 2.5 Billion viewers of the Palestinian Bombings. I am modern philosophe, the birth giver of Socrates, Plato, Nietzsche, Derrida. I am Steve Jobs, terrible father, tyrant and billionaire technological reliever. I am God, the predeccesor and successor of all eternal life. I am Satan, damnation and strife. I am Tupac, rapper of gangster warfare. Inspirational to first world degenerates. I am Oprah, most powerful black woman with white hillbilly aesthetics of Ellen Degeneres. Thank you, to world's only true Genius. Hail Kanye West, our one and only revered Yeezus.
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May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 4:18 AM UTC
I am the next Shakespeare, inspired by Kanye West.
I take my knowledge from architects, medieval painters and galore. I walk along the stretch of times, Read the Canterbury Tales from folks of yore. I've written literature in my own dialect, through the beautiful English language. I find awe in the act of creation, new etymologies where old writers anguished. My words: symphonies of the beloved and dead Beethoven; like the arias of Wagner. I am the high priest, the new catholicicist propogandising as your Cardinal. I am the spiritual technology, provided to the ailment of what we call society. I am the new Ghandi, the Dalai Lama deservedly inspiring your piety. I am the Luciferous angel of life, breathing heaven through the cesspool of Earth. I am the post-modern Romeo and Juliet, Warhol's 15 minutes of fame and worth. I am the Alexander Mcqueen, the metaphilosopher of fabric illusions. I am the lyricist of society, speaking through the castrated eunychs. I am Stephanie Myer, inspiration of vampiric genius to adolescent impressionables. I am Jane Austen, author of new age thrillers such as The Secret and Lesbian Misérables I am the eclipsing of twilight, the post-mortem autopsy of a rotting cadaver. I am Heath Ledger and Michael Jackson, legends inspiring a race of sleeping pill grabbers. I am the Blockbuster, the Titanic Avatar, $4.9 Billion to children in poverty. I am Gangnam Style, 2.5 Billion viewers of the Palestinian Bombings. I am modern philosophe, the birth giver of Socrates, Plato, Nietzsche, Derrida. I am Steve Jobs, terrible father, tyrant and billionaire technological reliever. I am God, the predeccesor and successor of all eternal life. I am Satan, damnation and strife. I am Tupac, rapper of gangster warfare. Inspirational to first world degenerates. I am Oprah, most powerful black woman with white hillbilly aesthetics of Ellen Degeneres. Thank you, to world's only true Genius. Hail Kanye West, our one and only revered Yeezus.
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business Friday that ISIS took control Husayba sometime around I tell you Love Ramadi Habbaniya non leader. and meters) east of Ramadi and about women soon cottoned on evil and the good lesser gunfire occasion of his I email my teachers Rabbit of their day; a toy that you are doing more group's latest push east since the Dalai Lama their words actually led to facilitate some good old if you love those estone that a US State most intract ARTICLE b in her response wrote that they appeared who love what seized the key city of finally used to pleasure do not even Pagans do departmental official acknowledged defeat ISIS Geisha Burmese ***** heighten the pleasure our righteousness in front of others to be seen executed people in the street whom Lama's compassionate approach teaching on what to do by evening no reward from your Father in heaven, do not announce it during *** with trumpets heading towards Palmyra Heavenly father is perfect the streets to be honoured by others compassion and call to action went supernova Ben Wa ***** background in cognitive. remember to give thanks more efforts.
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May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 6:04 PM UTC
Be ye perfect
If only you could see how beautiful the world is You wouldn't care about all these awful people I like to look to the sky and see something bigger than me It's bigger but it looks so small Just big enough not to be overwhelmed By all your little beauty But you can't decide You're wanderers and from you I've learned to wander From you came the wanderlust And from you came the hope The hope to be like you You don't go at each other Sometimes you bump Sometimes you die But you don't mind Peace at its finest The dalai would be proud You move very much in all your peace Just like little working ants move around the ground You move around your ever-reaching canvas of ebony Tiny little incandescent ant Tiny tiny shiny ant My little glowing ants moving across the sky I wish I could lose myself in you Become one of you and know of your little hidden treasures Could you come in my pocket? Just a few Just imagine what good I could do With a pocketful of bliss and magical wonder I would help anyone who's ever been down But we will need more than one pocket Flock to me my iridescent ants! Lets make sure when we reach you, we reach you happy
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Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
Iridescent ants
Siriyw bilai bipang mwsayw Gwthang pithaipwr lorhai langw Rwdapwra rongzayw dalai ranzringw Langdang hayao dakhwr japobw Gwsw Birw okhrang gezerzwng dwimu Sansriyw gwdan khiliyw jiu Simangpwr thaiyw unduhabna thayw jiu Akhai-Athing rubaiyw swlera mengru Onthaiya dudruyw dwisa gathwn Dinga gwzaow udang fhwisali gwzan San habw dandise minina swnab gwzan Dao palw birlangw bahayo gwdan Bere bamblema birw bibarao Sikhiri megon sayw nainw hayiao Bidwipwra khathw zayw dikharao Pithaini habilaya seolangw thasariao.
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Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 10:11 PM UTC
Gumur Gwiya
Jwimwi nwngni onsainaionwsw okha Okhani mohoraosw swmkhwr abad Okha gwiyabla khoran Ranjringna lorhaigwn abad Dalai bilai sirina swleralo longthongwi thagwn. Nwng bekhou nunanwinw saglwbw okhrangao. Angdi nwngkhou orai hasthaiyw sakhatiao Raopwra nwngni sidwb gwdwi Mohoradi nwngni bese somaina Angni gwrbw swlera nwngni thakhainw thajim. Nwng angni nwjwrnipry Datha nwng anjraina,andw-andw. Dabung nwng- "Angkhou nwjwrthinangla nwng Nwjwrthidw Angnikhrui bangsin Jai hagwn nwngnw onnai hwnw Agni onnaia jerao lwrbang". Angni bikhayao saronthai.Thwisam. Angdi mwnakhwi nwngnikhrui somainasin onnai Nwngni onnaiadi lwrbang be jathaoa Angni thakhai thajim onnai nwngni. Angdi nwngkhoulo hasthaiyw. Nwngnw orai angni nwjwrao oraithi.
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Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 11:59 PM UTC
nwngnw oraithi
what was  in the longest sleep I have ever had? dreams of mistletoe or camels the brunch with the Dalai Lama or George Harrison's hair in my hands, and had I any dream? I don't know.... just rest for me, a quiet peace. a piece of God.
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Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 4:55 PM UTC
a piece of God
Part 1 The snooze button empowers me to the veto the day However some Congressional sub-committees on time and financing appear to be overriding my action Part 2 I have played with clouds I have seen moons drop past the horizons of distant worlds I have talked to Solomon, Moses, Jesus, Muhammad, Siddhartha, the Dalai Lama, all of his incarnations, Gandhi, Ben Franklin, Abraham Lincoln and soldiers returning home from countless wars And I have been disappointed thousands of times because you have awoke me before I was fully enlightened Part 3 You should have warned me before I said something stupid Why don't you ever signal me before I over draw my checking account You could of let out some kind of peep telling me that the dog was about to crap on the floor You are good for nothing Part 4 It needs to be over between us I am in love with pillow
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Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 12:38 PM UTC
Alarm Clock
The realist idealist Marxist on acid Unruliest Julius Social class bashin' Hash waxin' Jet Jackson I'm back in it, packin' My 9 days of fastin' And rockin' my Rama Like Lama of Dalai To Burma, Malawi I'm thirsty for Mali Diwali to light up in spite of the plight From the right, I'm so left that it's theft All I own is the night I been deep in the jungles Apocalypse Now Reading little red books About chairmen named Mao But like Gandhi's ahimsa I'm teaching them how We make no man's land peace From they cash Curacao Where I see water everywhere But not a drop to drink Just hydro-frackin' krakens They're unleashing on your kitchen sink And still the rising Apartheid Brings death before the dioxide Insecticidal suicide And herbicidal genocide Colombia? That's classified It's why I build my ark from FARC Embarking on my Narcos kick A fix fit for a Bolshevik For now my journey never ends Until I cure this homesickness
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Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 12:49 PM UTC
Exiled
one time in the land of poverty and starvation where hunger loomed like the spirit of God, Even Itself starved itself often on the thin vials of the black stomachs,colonies and esophagus, of these poverty crashed men and women denizens of this land ever wondered why , hunger and challenges where their stuff? they had nothing at all to stake the selves, mothers were beggars as fathers did, pangs of hunger even made them dark in their skins with excess melanin, These conditions made their foster mother to yap her white beak cacophonously , in the ecstatic syndrome of colonial glory she was happy as they suffered, day in and day out, she even made the possibility food for these foster children of hers an illusion, she forced them to speak her tongue as a magical secret to have enough food they tried the tongue but they could not make it because prime motive was colonial tricks, not salvage of any standard nor measure, the foster mother came again with a new ploy, that she could give them food or Ebola drugs if only their men had to marry fellow men and their women must marry fellow women, they tried and they shrank in numbers a new opportunity for the foster mother to become metaphysically a colonial mother, Only to loot the minerals , wood,land and slaves slaves taken on vicious green card lottery boat, then their chanced a yellow man , but not as foolish as the one Dalai Lama, the poet of prolixity He empathized with the black poverty , he felt for the Nation of this beggars, he cried Woooooo! these people are suffering! This poverty is pathetic and sorriest ! he took all the Ebola patients and hunger victims to the herbal medical clinic nearby He also gave the beggars of that nation iron horses on which they ride as they beg hence the saying that;Behold the last wonder, kings are walking of food and slaves riding kingly horses.
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Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC
The Parable of A good yellow Man
one time in the land of poverty and starvation where hunger loomed like the spirit of God, Even Itself starved itself often on the thin vials of the black stomachs,colonies and esophagus, of these poverty crashed men and women denizens of this land ever wondered why , hunger and challenges where their stuff? they had nothing at all to stake the selves, mothers were beggars as fathers did, pangs of hunger even made them dark in their skins with excess melanin, These conditions made their foster mother to yap her white beak cacophonously , in the ecstatic syndrome of colonial glory she was happy as they suffered, day in and day out, she even made the possibility food for these foster children of hers an illusion, she forced them to speak her tongue as a magical secret to have enough food they tried the tongue but they could not make it because prime motive was colonial tricks, not salvage of any standard nor measure, the foster mother came again with a new ploy, that she could give them food or Ebola drugs if only their men had to marry fellow men and their women must marry fellow women, they tried and they shrank in numbers a new opportunity for the foster mother to become metaphysically a colonial mother, Only to loot the minerals , wood,land and slaves slaves taken on vicious green card lottery boat, then their chanced a yellow man , but not as foolish as the one Dalai Lama, the poet of prolixity He empathized with the black poverty , he felt for the Nation of this beggars, he cried Woooooo! these people are suffering! This poverty is pathetic and sorriest ! he took all the Ebola patients and hunger victims to the herbal medical clinic nearby He also gave the beggars of that nation iron horses on which they ride as they beg hence the saying that;Behold the last wonder, kings are walking of food and slaves riding kingly horses.
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