Contemplation #12-Self Importance Towers Devour and Bury…This


SELF IMPORTANCE TOWERS DEVOUR AND BURY…THIS

(a short piano, strings and timpani piece based on Kundalini Yoga breathing for release of negative energy, or release of anger, the sound is HAR HAR HAR (thank you, Mandeep Khalsa) which is similar to HUT or HUD, and yes to Chuck Jones and Disney cartoons on the funny side of life, and to bring love we must expel anger)

Hope you dig it. Forgive the visuals as I am awful with photos and videos where my passion from birth is for poetry, food, music and philosophy. In those I am in peace.

The series on Contemplation and Meditation is long and I have never really counted or categorized the music together which is not laziness as much as it is that I seem to write on these elements more than others if not nature and love.  I added a track and changed dynamics and various elements of sound yesterday, 4.12.19, so this is not the final version.

 

 

Advertisements

Rilke Poems in French, here it is Poem #53


Je ne peux pas m’engager ‘a accepter ses idées frivoles. Jamais, jamais, je ne l’obéissance pas un meneur, cela ne mène a rien.
Rereading Rilke’s poems in French. It was a masterful exercise in testing his knowledge of the poem and if he could communicate th senses of things felt in French as well as in his native German. The same stands for us, the readers. We must allow that Rilke was just wanting right simply of things felt. But the desire to analyze is always there so it does take an effort not to fall for the pretentious inclination to work a hermeneutic on them, but he tell us not to waste our time, just let the poem be.
This is about the poem itself. Forget any worldly relations because that will muddy the clarity Rilke was looking to place into his writings, not about Alma Mahler or the pre Raphaelites, this is the poem, the 59 poems, then the prose poems in French. No outside world. No gossip of who and what as this is Rilke seeking refuge in his last writings, near last writings. The Duino and Orpheus works drained him, and the publicity wore him out. Works in French is refuge.
I think he went beyond, beyond into an even more mystical and touched by the Heavenly Host as he sought God throughout the ways of language, in how we think and compose, how we think in a second or third language.
The beauty and spirituality is at times wavering between worlds of 2, 3 and 4th dimension.
Exhausted after the peak of excellence which pretty much drained him in Sonnets to Orpheus (my favorite of his collections) and the Duino Elegies (really neck and neck with Sonnets to Orpheus, but man, to write with such elevation and cloud touching as he did with his German sonnets he needed to do something in small ways of experience and things felt, so he used the French language to write of small things of the senses and almost by accident, of the mystical. 53, for me is one of those which begins as a lovely experience among rose bushes, which I relate to in many ways as I have always planted several different roses and Lillies around and in the path to the stairway entrance to my home. At one time I had 14 different kinds of rose and it was an ongoing marvel wonder and precious thanks to the Lord for such small beauties and inspirations.
Roses and lilies engage me physically and spiritually. So, I guess it is natural in terms of how I relate to a poem that I chose 53 to challenge our balance of being pretentious and being in awe. I am both. I seek to be held in awe of Gods gift of this earth which we so readily seek to destroy, and then for some we offer up our roses to the angels to decide. Yes, the wisdom of experience in things felt as sensory and No mind do elevate the soul.
If one is confused by the questions then no answer will ever offer consolation and the other will continue to live in a fantasy of made up imagery and conflicted slander and gossip rather than just looking upon the question and finding this is where stands the soul of the “I” or of the “other”.
It is so hard to be held transfixed by the most elemental of things. Now, the use of the “I” in my description of this pleasure in the text and in the relative meaning is not limited to me, but to all pronouns: I, me, you, yours, ours, theirs, they, them, us, he, she, You, They, Us, Me, Mine, I. All may be used and the meaning of the question and beauty of the answer reveals that it is in the question we find the true self. “but when will we find ways to be equal to the rose?”
The Greek poet Sappho asked a similar question in one of the fragments found of her poetry and it began:
“after so much giving I am exhausted.
where, my love, where are the roses for me?”
We, the reader, find so often that the poet, the writing, the poem itself asks where is there something in return for all I have given, and the poet must accept that what is of the poetic heart is not as it is for regular people except in time of reflection brought on by tragic or heroic events. For the Artist this question simply is a part of the lamented life where we wish the isolated life of the Arts were at times giving us a more social life just to be able to talk with others, to love others and to be free to enjoy conversations without boundaries. Yeah, the critical examination almost removes the delicacy of the poems intention in the first place:
“…
mais comment arriverait-on
a egaler une rose?”
“But when will we find ways to be equal to the rose?” and if we keep up this pretension of roses and tenderness will we then corrupt the angelic touch upon this moment? Right. There are those things written which just are as they exist in the poem, a moment felt and the fear of its being divided up and crushed under the pressure of cynics pen and paper.
Rilke poem Francais, #53
“On arrange et on compose
les mots de tant de focus,
mais comment arriverait-on
a egaler une rose?
Si on supporte l’étrange
prétention de ce jeu,
c’est que, parfois, un ange
le derange un peu.”
In English:
“We arrange and we compose
words in so many ways,
but when will we find ways
to be equal to the rose?
If we keep up the strange
pretension of this game,
it’s because at times an angel
deranges it a little.”

Response to Question: “What is the Meaning of Life?”


This is a lengthy academic essay in response to the question or statement: What is the MEANING ot life? My first is to say through imitation of Christ; then I considered world religions I had also studied. I walked in the woods and sat by the pond down from my house and just watched. I later read through, get this, three sets of encyclopedias when this was knowledge hunt not dyadic hunts through an irrational yet fully rational set up access to knowledge. It just took time to absorb. Free yourself. Stop. Your Meaning of Life is the meaning of life. Want a universal? GOD. Godhead. A thousand names of God leading to the Trinity or one God. Break apart all you have learned and put it back together again, and I mean tear your mind and emotions, your desires and subject of your desires, solace in silent mind but beware the temptation of the veils you cannot clear away, they will appear, and move forward through them, stop and I mean do not Question an absurdity such and the meaning of life. whistle back to a mockingbird at 3am. Dig peace and find substance in what it is that interests you. Stop copying and pasting nonsense. There are badly framed questions when we are not asking from No mind. East and West, as is pointed out in a famous Tennyson poem “I saw a flower in a wall, I plucked and wept” compared to “see the bodhi tree. see the earth. Breath. I touch the earth.” The students to Gautama waited, hushed, as they had learned to silence the racket of their inner voice always offering jabber and otherness not nowness, so they waited. Gautama said simple nothing. He placed his finger upon the ground, thus without words expressed the cycle of life and death and rebirth until we found out way to enlightenment and suffered no more the crushing Shouts of Mara to create a scatterbrained mass of a. world who were and are unable to Be. Be Love Now, and sink you’re cut and past pasteboard concepts of What is the meaning of Life or Is knowledge power. This moves us into post structuralism and the miasma of searching for meaning in secondary and tertiary definitions in order a simple act of peace. Hermeneutics is for Biblical studies and finding the many meanings within poetics. Speaking of poetics we can go Zen for a Monet moment and say: I see the lotus floating by, the river flows and the waters rest, I let them be. Why let them be? Why to encourage cause and effect as expressed in the expense of water and plants so that the seed may mature and drop or be eaten by a bird and pooped upon fertile places. Let things be and yet also know when those things must be messed with as in organic farming, you have to protect your garden without dousing it with chemicals. Chemicals are that noise in the brain preventing the blessed and yearned for to become something that occurs throughout our meditations and being now and new in each month without being stupid. To let it be with the outcome being stupidity or wiping away what we have learned through counting breaths, chanting blessed mantras, listening to the sound of holy bowls hum and ting, bong and still keep that lower D hum and hum as it is the sound df the spheres holding us all together. The meaning of life is that we do not destroy life by overthinking it to the point that it is rendered infertile. As the great molder of mind and thought Alan Watts said, we must sometimes be cloud hidden known only by our presence in the clouds. Being. The miracle is not birth. The miracle is that we live. We did a great job destroying this magnificent earth with our end set to 2030. What will one do? I seek deeper meditation, I want to read more and more new translations of the Buddha talks and his students discussing while the 500 gathered in a a cave and developed a way, the way of Buddhism divided into Theravada, Mahayana and Zen. Most do end up in Zen land. Too much Zen in the wrong minds brings us the WWII in the Pacific. The rape of Korea, Taiwan, Southeast Asia down the peninsula to Singapore and over into the vast islands of Indonesia an dup into the Philippines. There is a limit to the meaning of life when that meaning becomes a subject object reaction of dominance and destruction of personhood, the individual. We must look upon our modern age, what is left of it. Consider the mocking bird at 3 am. Watch an osprey hunt. Watch tomatoes and broccoli blossom and fertilize the earth while you gather what is needed to eat. Tonight the meaning of my life is lotus, rose buds, tulsi leaves and honey. I will sleep and dream of conversations with my heroes, those whose life and words I place upon my pedestal of life.that place at the head of the table or not even at the table but with me in my thoughts, guiding me, being that voice of consciousness to be aware in each moment. as much as I wish.My truths of my wild life get friends in trouble by their friends or employers who bring it up of how can they be trusted if they are friends with me. I said send them to me. My life is to teach and show ways into doors where those doors ought not to be. Bu they are there, and those doors are also called layers of an onion or the many veils of mind and world keeping us from what is. What is it that keeps us from what is? Preconceptions, that formidable but hard to move aside, enemy to our evolving into the dust from which we emerged after a few 100,000 years from two legged mammals to the destructive enemies to ALL life we have become. I cannot lie. I want to lie. To lie is to fail in the 8 fold path. I often fail in the 8 fold path. I want to blame it upon others, but it is me. It is me conjuring spirts when those spirits either become as good people or must beg exorcised as if a Taoist monk were dividing women from power and pushing men into play acting games such as Will to Power derived from is Power Knowledge or is Knowledge Power. Why, dear one, why create what does not require creation yet does require obliteration. We must Rise. We must act up. We must be breakers of rules. Do not the me to extremes on breaking of curls. What my words mean is that we must, we ought to break the rules the ensnare us in silly questions which remove our thoughts from what is most important for the body and soul. I want this to be my last cycle of life and death but I have no idea if I will make it. Meditation is not a means to an end, nor is the end to any means. Meditation and yogi physical practice, in my case the Kundalini, and for many Hatha, and for many more just to site 20 minutes with sandalwood Inscense burning and counting breaths going back to 0 each tie a new thought holler thought the room of breathing and gentle should seeking forgiveness and to make us the dessert. Writing is meditation for me in many ways because I am emptying my mind of clutter, even if it is as beautiful poem I have ever published, a great book, columns in food and world cuisine, philosophical papers or just to write, to follow Yeats and let the pen do my speaking while my mind is silenced. Amazing things take place on the page. But the meaning of life never does anything at all. It is a wind into and through me. Dust spirals, dust cones through sunlight in my dawn windows before this now tropical Georgia lights up with death dealing heat. Watching and listening as new pines collapsing takes place. This roar and burst that in every aspect is an attack upon the order of things. I am that thing. I am the pine falling. I argued with devoted Hare Krishnas once about this One-ness that Westerners learn to find and flee the crowd so as to think and meditate on this world we have set about to kill us off. Life will go on. Waters will flow and oceans will again rise to cover the High Desert to the desperate for attention hills of Texas going down Kings Hiway and just going down in a David Lynch movie night made real by my being in the right place in the right time. I respect the words of Gautama, I chant the Amithaba chant to life as I hold power that many a time ha me cussing out the power to shut up already. Then I know I need to hum and vibrations to take a little longer. When I have been hit in the face with a bottle or knives pulled on me in attempts to destroy me I fight back hard. I usher up the years on a Judo competition team in college and am able to disarm and flatten an of pent in th time it takes to say “hey man, I need something, come here….” I see the pocket bulge. Action saves my life. Knives out and ready to take me down for looking like an easy attack because I tired after 15 hours work nonstop as an Executive Chef with 3 degrees and a minor, paying my way though University and M. A. by work. I put my hands to work so that I could quiet the childish squeaks and cries actin on behalf of my soul; to move far from the path. Many paths to One God. I come back to the path not of extremes but of acceptance of my journey. Knowing each precognition is to be followed, and if it feels like success in business is occurring hen I am at ease for my actions have brought happiness to people who need a smile and a Mel unknot. I love. We must Love. We must love now as when nature takes us down I want to go with the word ‘Love’ upon my lips. 35 years meditation and visits to monasteries of Zen, Mahayana and of Theravada, even into forbidden waters and woods. My M.A. was in Philosophy of Hope and Expectation, the references were to the great monk philosophy of Ludwig Wittgenstein. He leads as Alan Watts did lead, and even had one philosophy which changed 20th century academic thought with his discourse on cause and effect or symbolic logic. He then spent the next 30 years arguing against the thought of his youth. Philosophy of Psychology and Psychoanalysis. B. A. Modern American Literature, B.A. Philosophy of Religion with a minor in Humanistic Psychology; these titles are meaningless alone, but as part of an intellectual and spiritual passage through the sunlit Bardo I am given language and was taught to think. You know how hard it is to learn to think? Watts and his gang of enlightened rogues changed how the think today in academic and spiritual circles. There are those who will defunct him and Fritz Pearl for being hedonistic when it comes around to sex and sexuality. I see no wrong it in because they wanted to Live! To Be. To seek. To silence the twisting of thought before offered up for debate and discourse. The meaning of life is the moment of silencing the mind, what comes after is up to the student. Please free your mind of these trappings of fuzzy mind, which leads to a corrupted soul Interact with love and attention to the flow of needs for those around you. Be empathic and compassionate. Do not distance yourself, be in the moment and the vibrations and eventual flow of things in this ‘great chain of being’ which we seek to break yet to break without harm to others and basically with attention awakening our own soul in return. We are here because we Seek, but we do not seek aphorism veiled in plaster board statements or versed in the interrogative. Now, I still think the meaning of life is to laugh and to spread love, humanity, justice, right thought, vision and action. Do not be victim to the whispers of darkness. The meaning of life is to be here now. I was at a Ram Dass lecture where he talked on and on from his journey, an amazing journey rising and mellowing out like focaccia built with starter fought from the 1970s, he talked for so long people just started to leave. I at my spot. My place before the great yogi. Eventually he ceased and it was close to 4 hours. I was awakened before him. I spoke with Rolling Thunder when was in health enough to travel to universities and speak to us in our positions as part of the listening life of this world. We met in private in the woods and he spoke with those holdouts who just wanted to hold his hands, look into his eyes and way. My question? How can I become a better man. His answer: Never to be spoken as it was a private meeting with an enlightened warrior for place and soul, here and No mind. Parliament Funkadelic: Free Your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow. I think that sums it up well. I know there will be opposing and hopefully well thought out debate or a new view into what has been a new view into Life, while understanding cause and effect. Please read as many of the Books of Alan Watts as you can, his autobiography is a Joseph Campbell directed to speak of what he wished and had thought he did but once it hit the typewriter hammer and rod into the a coherence we gladly understand to day that the Books of Alan Watts were explorations of his own thought at the time. As a poet, author, restauranteur and Executive lucky enough to afford University and Masters Studies. The treasures offered and shared with me along eh way are without measuring and without the sentence “what is the meaning of life” or “does life have a meaning:, set after “The truth is not the truth” by Rudolph Guilliani, who had his minutes of fame come and go many years in revers, and to please keep him off the air Is it not enough that we caught in the side winds of a hurricane the like so which destroyed the Panhandle, parts of Alabama, and nonsense what was this Buffon shouting in imitation of Mussolini not in Imitation of Gautama Buddha or Imitation of Christ, both of his are overrunning with knowledge, wisdom and eternal confessions, answers and the Will itself unveiled and standing cleansed, just turn off the tweets. Change channels or do not listen until we are resolved. I see the flower and admire its isolate gorgeous existence where none ought to grow, then I smelled the flower without touching it. I was absorbed by the flower and dared, dared not to be sought or move this Sweet William away from the packet of soil, yet not moving it in distance from itself bty into one of my yard areas devoted to Sweet William with other Sweet William, being wild flowers and rye grass ,it was an easy and short move. Good on ya flowers!and then came the bones, the deaths of loved, the loss of beloved; but admit I did. I meditated upon this flower out of place (it was where it ought ot have been) a while it appeared as living and breathing as I in that extended moment. This king of snakes was my protector as I later was deceived he would have passed away from loneliness t. Who am I to take what is not mine to take? I was a hunter and avid fly fisherman not using barbed hooks because I was able to release them in the nicest fashion without disturbing its life beyond our moment. I rarely hunt or fish anymore. I walk my beautiful old gal dog, Daisy. I sing to her. I joyfully and without worry sing to my dog as we go out for her several walks per day. Doing so I find the meaning of my life becoming another sublime way o being both love and now in the same breath. This is a prime example of being in the right place, doing the right thing, right thought, right protection and bringing happiness to boxer rescue. The meaning of life This is where we find our self in the moment Now. I beg you all who read this to forgive me and understand I am thinking on the page, seeking my self and if that self is an illusion, is a veil thrown down by upon me by my actions on the page. Sing out! Laugh! Dig a garden and flower them before planting. Best vegetables come from placing a seed or baby plant on top of a lake fish such as bluegill bream, crappie, cod chopped up, the seed and planting will grow strong and delicious. This is the mind, the soul and eventually the spiritual dasein of the flower or vegetable will be realized and nourish out bodies.. Dasein fits in to the philosophy of compassion in cause and effect, the animal and I spoke with our eyes and body muscle flexing, please consider Dasein as the collective consciousness. This is the meaning of a life born of dirt, fertilizer by the fish, warmth and will teach you therapeutic faith. I wish I could have presented this in paragraphs so the coherence would be more evident. In all humility I present my discourse on “the meaning of life” in complete sincerity and hope to learn. I cannot or will not move beyond hope and expectation as long as I allow their emanation from my soul and body on a daily basis. Hence Meditation and reading of the Vedas so that they are prepared, knowing ones religion and path I am able to help their thistle lined walk to what I is called “Home”. I have had it. I cannot live without it, but I felt such a need for contrition and repentance that I was dead for the Eternal light which called out to me, instead I drowned my self in drugs and alcohol. I was cleansed. I looked around and knew in that moment now, that I was changed for the better. Enlightenment is not forever if we become lazy. I know. I also know the seeking for the meaning of life is impossible to answer. Ask word from the Vedas, the Myths which were religions not myth at all, we find our way to the great and horny, wise and well learn’ed Teacher, our Yogi, Alan Watts. My wisdom derived from his essays and his own writing to find himself. I wish I knew the “meaning of lie” as precedent for in the rising in this moment I would die and be reborn, or dancing with the sofa a meaning to life of the Buddhas, dancing found on the 3rd level of Heaven known as Pure Land Heaven as described b the 11th Buddha, Amithaba. for the newcomer. OK. I beg your space, time and intelligence cycle in patience as I think on the page I am tired. I am the clay eyed sent down man. The night absorbs me in its mystery and I cling to this ever-student incarnation. As an acolyte to the Gautama and to the Holy 500 Buddhas who gathered in a cave the day after He demised and left his body as we do today for our farewell, and that choking feeling released and new air is beloved to our flash, and sudden tears of love fall, the Heavenly Host fell to help them rise above our evils. And then I died with Him, our Catholic Christian God, the Enlightened One, as I lived with Ateachings of Guan Shin Yi,

Poem: Material Essence


 

 

 

 

 

MATERIAL ESSENCE

A Pot left sitting in the grass
On the roadside
A four lane intersection
Lights and roars,
Talks and shrieks,
All things being what they are
The Pot sat silent
Till one day it grew
Two legs
Stood and walked away
To another place
Being a pot it needed to be used
So it found a home
All filled with dirt and tomato seeds
It became itself
Finally
The absence of being long gone
And far away

SONG ABOVE THE CAVE OF MILAREPA (2nd draft line changes)


Meditation Song Above the Cave of Milarepa
A darkness upon your soul rises.
There are many paths
A darkness upon your soul rises.
There are many paths
A darkness upon your soul rises. There are many paths
A darkness upon your soul rises. There are many paths.
I meditate where the Lord places me and all evils return 
to laugh at my trials.
I meditate where the Lord places me and all evils return
to laugh at my trials.
I meditate where the Lord places me and all evils return
to laugh at my trials.
I meditate where the Lord places me and all evils return
to laugh at my trials.
The first with rotted scalp and beautiful face says his
prayers and meditations
are folly.
The first with rotted mind and fallen face says his prayers
are all wasted
and drawn from lies.
The first with love for the Great Deceiver tells me my prayers
could be turned to ways of disordered mind and deceit.
I say no.
Leave me or listen. You have the choice. 
Listen. 
Demon flesh is not sexuality.
It is destruction of self.
God gives us compassion I say. I can only wish they find
the 
path that leads to God and frees them from this demon flesh.
God gives us compassion I say. I can only wish the find the
path that leads to God and frees them from this demon flesh.
God gives me compassion I say. I can only wish you find
the 
path that leads to God and frees you from this demon flesh.
Love, I say.
When is it not enough? We must Love. 
God does not waste his love, he maintains
and holds strong for 
any who come to him, who contemplate upon
the Sacrifice.
God does not waste his love, he maintains
and holds strong for
any who come to him, who contemplate upon the Sacrifice.
God does not waste his love, he maintains and holds strong for 
any who come
to him, who contemplate upon the Sacrifice.
 God does not waste his love,
he maintains and holds strong for 
any who come to him, who contemplate upon
the Sacrifice.
Choice. We are given Love. But evil rules our land.
Evil dances across the land and the fallen worship hatred, 
here stand the enemy
and the will to love is yet even stronger…
Evil dances across the land and the fallen worship hatred,
here stand the enemy and the will to love is yet even stronger.
Evil dances across the land and the fallen worship hatred,
here stand the enemy
and the will to love is yet even stronger.
  Evil fucking evil dances across the land and the fallen worship hatred,
here stand the enemy and the will to love is yet even stronger.
I know who lies.
I know who lies. What names you choose is up to you.
I know who lies. Our dharma is our choice we build upon….
I know who lies.
All that is solid melts. I pray my eternal soul 
melts and flows endlessly flowing
in and out of Life’s plan.
I know who lies.
They dream on in phantasms of a dirt soul and only of ends,
never the continuation of action and reaction.
They dream on in phantasms of a dirt soil, only of ends…
never the continuation
of action and reaction.
They dream on in phantasms of a dirt soul, only of ends,
never the continuation of action and reaction.
In all our oceans
and the streams that feed them life changes
and adapts, many die, as will we
.
In all ahr’ oceans and the streams that feed them life changes
and adapts,
many die, as will we.
In all our oceans and the streams that feed them life changes 
and adapts, many die, as will we.
I see the finite and hear their shallow heartbeats, thinking sin
and salvation does not apply to them.
I see the finite and hear their shallow heartbeats, thinking sin
and salvation does not apply to       them.
I see the finite and hear their shallow heartbeats, thinking sin
and salvation does not apply to them.
It does.
It does matter.
It does matter for all we do is wrapped in cause and effect.
It does matter for all we do is wrapped in cause and effect.
It does matter for all we do is wrapped in cause and effect…
It does matter
for all we do is wrapped in cause and effect.
You worship deception and a larceny of faith.
You worship deception and a larceny of faith
.
You worship deception and a larceny of faith.
You worship deception and a larceny of faith.
Thinking it a win to deceive those who offer trust, all you do
is dig deeper
into coal mountains, death your lover.
Thinking it a win to deceive those who offer trust, all you do 
is dig deeper into coal mountains, death your lover.
Thinking it a win to deceive those who offer trust, all you do 
is dig deeper into coal mountains, death your lover…
I know. I must repeat. I must chant.
I know it is easy to say anything at all and not believe a word.
I know, I, it is easy to say anything at all and not believe a word.
I know it is easy to say anything at all and not believe a word…
I know you.
I repeat because I see you. 
I was you. I destroyed that “I”.
Even as I pray and meditate you think new ways of harm.
Even as I pray and meditate you think new ways of harm.
Even as I pray and meditate you think new ways of harm…
I know your lies.
They are known. Leave me dark spirits.
Many paths. One God.
Shut up you gossips and fools!
Giving over to the home of Siddhartha, hammered singing bowls
Of seven holy metals that ring then vibrate me in to sleep and Awake!
I sleep upon the floor where I console and sing, feeling your
song vibrate through me, I love you my friends, I love God who 
makes it possible to love my friends and family.
I sleep upon the floor where I console and sing, feeling your
song vibrate through me, I love you my friends, I love God who
makes it possible to love my friends and family.
I sleep on the floor where I console and sing, feeling your
song vibrate through        me,
I love you my friends, to love God who 
makes it possible we love friends and family…
Holiness shimmers through each ringing bowl as I stretch
my aging flesh across these thick, slow barley and bamboo mats.
Holiness shimmers through each ringing bowl as I stretch my
 aging flesh across these thick, slow barley and bamboo mats.
Holiness shimmers through each ringing bowl as I stretch my 
aging flesh across these thick, slow barley and bamboo mats…
I see the growing thunderheads,
heat lightening…..strikes.
Oh, I stretch because I see so much beauty, so to love,
 so to thwart the minds
who think to fight for life is sadness,
 but that is to have it wrong, so terribly wrong,
we live to live,
 to strike back demon Mara’s devils and those gone to fight Ezekiel,
for beauty is daily and daily reward we live as grace as eternal.
 To strike back Mara’s grinning evil and risen dark angels, do it!
New paths for beauty and skies seen like ocean tides as wind.
Each path begins from suffering and evil, and each path ends
 when skies are sky
and beauty becomes us; not as struggle town
but as gift, each path begins where Life has suffered, yet pure
heart and pure intention is not enough to paint sunsets orange.
Never stop, always never ever stop, for if we do then it has ended,
and with ends come dreams of was, when what we need are times
of is
and then
the works of yet to be. I could say, to the glory of God
I cannot help it,
this compassion I love. I beg, in your own wisdom
to understand we must scare the demons away as Milarepa sang,
to enchant the devils as Ezekiel fought that they die this very day . . .
And yeah, that’s it . . . yeah, that’s it.
(and this crew for conversations with my beloved friends,  the table I dream of as last meal and conversation because you all inspire me. My dream of life. They each wish to be unknown but here no links condemn them to me for my wanderers life.)

Banks Excuses of Dyadic Operators Still Being Used? Grow Up You Young Killers. You know you are Killers. Darkest Night Shining


file:///Users/h.lamarthomas/Desktop/Banks%20Credit%20Unions%20Do%20As%20You%20Will%20We%20Have%20No%20Power.m4a

file:///Users/h.lamarthomas/Desktop/Dear%20Darkest%20Shining%20Night.m4a

Waking and gazing into an asteroid shower at 6 a.m.
Knowing that I was robbed not twice but three times.
Thank you new banking system where you destroy on automatic or lay enough delays to lose your home after being twice hacked and treated as a criminal. Killers making excuses silk thin bringing little deaths upon us all. The poem is a curse. Daniel as he prayed was for a curse that the lions find another meal than his own flesh. As David praying his enemies be conquered and he dance drunken in the streets celebrating and then realizing not by the curse as our government and banks would wish upon us little tiny people. We do as we are told, then throw a CD player out the window and blow it apart with a 12 guage pump Mosburg looking like indie 70s movies playing in slow motion.
Now, this poem incantation as the young sorcerer Milarepa, later Buddhist mystic song writer, would have spoken into his yak dung fire no different than Biblical warriors a thousand miles away. So I paused inside my language to feel the anger rise and subside in hope “change is gonna come”.

The second is a song-poem because I could not decide to sing or recite. My plan was to play piano, but I scrapped that idea after listening to the power again of the rising sun through this brightly lit green edge of the forest where colors you cannot name them all, yeah I dare even a gin and sprite drunk Frank O’Hara could not name. So I left it as it is, an unaccompanied poem sang into each ray of light, sang into each whistle of night bird mocking bird doing their night bird thing, you know, mocking birds singing back as you sing to them and they as well whistle the dawn awake and calmly pull the covers over the last glimmers of night. Yeah, this is late night August night where thunderheads or soft sunshine bring the day alive. . .you just don’t know until it is here. Rushing along the sidewalks, the lawns, rushing into the wood just to hear the peace of a slow river slow soft swirls of water caught circling around a lone rock just past the 1951 bridge pretended to be repaired but it looks like gorilla glue and duck tape to me. This is not death. It is an optimism. The young sorcerer Milarepa stidll looking to find the light of the Diamond Sutta (from the Pali text it is sutta not sutra, that’s all, just respecting the language) after hoping that of the Lotus Sutta would wake his body into life.

A Pure Land Language..



I recorded my morning singing bowls and meditation on Amitabha, third level of Heaven being Pure Land, happiness, pure happiness among other Bodhisattvas and Buddhas. And so I haad to play the vocals through different knob settings and played around with a mellotron for proper background holdings for the bowles when eah ran free of it’s vibrations. There are messages in the poetry throughout but you really have to listen closely. It’s about ways of reaching Heaven, of at least being freed of the travails of the ever mortal shell in which we reside.

Concerto for Those Who….


This is a concerto I have had in my mind for a while and was just able to play and edit it late and today. It is love.

But there are those who think if I name them FB will be onto them. If you are on FB you are known way beyond your imagination. A lovely concerto for those I love who despise my naming them for thanks or simply as an act of positive action, I apologize for the pain I have caused you. So here is a nameless concerto that ends in a pretty beautiful two or three minute solo piano extension on an idea of right vision and right speech as forms of expelling the hardened heart and allowing the love to exist rather than to destroy what is good and positive. Be good and positive. One of my beloved said to get over the friends who reacted out of hate. But it’s hard for me. I believe in the positive power of friendship so much that even in the face of hatred or negativity I must offer love and do not harm. No matter the struggles and harms of this life there is still the love and years of friendship worth keeping rather than burying it over some gossip and forms of misalliance. always remember, there is a “hide from timeline” button so no one will know you know me or are beloved even if you yield a hammer over honest conditions. Be love. Peace. Be love now.
I am still working on bringing the poetry back into my writings which is what I have published the most (350 and two books), but until the muse returns to bless me again for leaving her behind in times of pain and struggle, I must create so in music is my poetry and I hope that you feel the poetry, the words to my beloveds and those who seek harm and distance over the friendship that stood strong for so long. I pray for them. I meditate on their actions. It’s all I can do. I’ve called and went to voicemail and left loving messages but no return. I guess some things must be accepted as they are no matter how great the anger towards for things I do not even know I did that were so socially wrong that by being me and speaking openly, living openly as me and me alone, I have broken social moral codes that are unforgivable; yet I have no idea what secret handshakes and magic words I have missed. But I still love. I still care. I would do anything for them. But they choose to make me an outcast and I am OK being in the margins, not like it’s new. SO, when words are denied me I go for music as my vehicle and inspiration.
I hope you enjoy. I hope you feel the poetry and love that is this concerto

Namo Amitabha Meditation and Pure Land Talk, cause I want more people to talk to who want to know or who are on the same path, NOT ZEN.


This is an oh boy! or an oh hell not this….
It is a thirty minute meditation with morning singing bowls, a poem on highlights within a stream of light, Pure Land Amitabha meditation and explanation of what Mahayana and Amitabha Buddha teaching on three levels of heaven with the highest level being Pure Land. So many read really awful world religion texts, translations from 1900 and very prejudiced and unlearned expositions upon Mahayana Buddhism. I real Pali text translations and Sanskrit as they are closest to the 7th Buddha, our Shakyamuni Gautama Buddha who become the Enlightened One we mostly speak of when in reference to Buddhism. Being true to the teachings is not easy, as you progress over the years one begins to enter a stage of Bodhisattva where the supernatural nature of the noble truths, noble paths, and of attaining to a state of heightened knowledge and spiritual evolution, it is not to separate from others nor is it a substitute for Heaven. It just means that some of us work very very diligently to overcome our inner suffering and to attain right vision and and right action. Peace. Love. Charity. Hope. Compassion. Now there are differences, and throughout my life people have relished finding ways to stump me on the beauty and transitional nature of living life to feeling and knowing life as it is lived as an ascetic. I go on. Forgive me.