Political Poem
by
Nightprowlkittyas tho there is
any reality
to politics
that can be
grasped ever,
ever, never,
it is smoke,
it is elaborate
costume of
deception created
to capture
our attention
in spiderweb of power
enchanting us to believe
there is separation
between ourselves and each other
and the sky and the earth.politics cannot contain
our fierce fire,
our fresh air,
our loving waters,
our humble earth,
our limitless space
with no boundaries
never boundaries
always free
always liberation.Old tales
are helpful,
stories of humanity
from every corner
of the world
leading to the roots,
waiting for us,
waiting to feed us,
to welcome us home.
Tag: derangement of the senses
Mar 01 2010
Politics and Visionary Poetry
Dec 07 2009
I’m Too Sexy for My Blog
As my blogging goes through a weird and wild transformation, I have found myself attracted to many seemingly unrelated phenomena.
I found a Buddhist site that I have both attraction and aversion towards. I’m not sure about the fellow who writes the blog, but he does have a great blogroll (if you’re into the Tibetan Buddhist lineages) and reprints some of the most treasured Tibetan Buddhist texts which were translated at great expense of time and money, not to mention the daring and courageous activities of those teachers who fled Tibet starting in the 1950s who were determined to help spread this 2,500 year old philosophy to the west (an amazing story in itself).
Anyway, that’s neither here nor there, except I found this picture and post so adorable:
Baby, It’s Cold Outside
Winter is definitely here, everybody is making plans for the holidays, and the hearth is merry. But, what of the little stinkers? Do they just magically cope with freezing temperatures?Now is the time to pay special attention to setting out food and water for the small creatures of the fields and air. This is their most difficult time of year, when they must fight for survival.
It doesn’t take much to begin the habit of tossing a couple of extra bags of seed on the cart when you’re in the supermarket. What can it cost? Ten or fifteen dollars? Stop buying the National Enquirer, back off the booze, and the Viagra, and you could feed a whole zoo.
Nov 22 2009
String Around the Spiritual Finger
If you are expecting anything normal, please skip to the next essay … oh wait, this is Docudharma, scourge of the intertron!
Nevermind.
If compassion were
a person standing before me
or an animal, a tree,
or a chair or even a computer
or an I-pod,
I would bow before her, him, it
with some real confidence.
So write something
to effect you are not pure
but covered with slung shit,
encrusted, all sorts of gross images
till it can be seen, felt,
smelt, tasted, heard.
Then a shift of vision
to the lotus which grows
from that very exact same shit
and the vision I had a thousand
lifetimes ago about being
mired in that vile manure but
of my own free will
looking directly up at the
White Tara deity,
embodiment of compassion
from that foul pool
of obscuration and hopelessness,
and willingly feeling
I was contributing
to that compassion,
looking miraculously
upward, it was
no different than
standing in midtown
or wall street
walking down the street
never even thinking to
look up and then
you look up
and everything is
entirely different,
your view has
transformed.
a crazy thing!
so understand
and remember:
homage
to Tara is
homage to
compassion
1/22/09 – I didn’t have anything to blog about, but I wanted to drop in and make my dharmaniac mark for this is what I’m up to lately and what’s on me mind