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The Sea is Dying

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Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Sunday, 1 Oct 2023, 14:16


an abstract painting depicting sea spirits
Ocean Spirits. Painted by the author, Asoka

The Sea is Dying

A poem — In memory of the weird and wonderful creatures that once inhabited the ocean here.

Marine life has all but disappeared.
Once this ocean was teeming with it.
Now it’s like a watery desert.
A graveyard.
Holding the Spirit memories of
a myriad creatures 
that once inhabited it.

The curse of
Over-fishing
The industrial trawler.

Dredging and
salmon farming.

Pollution
of mammon.

Hungry seabirds die
with stomachs 
full of plastic waste.
Their feathers and bones 
wrapped in rotting seaweed
and tangled up fishing line.

Shellfish are dying, and the
numbers of molluscs grow fewer.

I place my hand on the water
and channelling the aliveness within
I wish the ocean well.
For life to thrive in her again.

An abstract painting of someone placing their hand on the ocean
Painted by the author, Asoka

Weeks later, I felt hope.

Schools of baby fish swam next to the seawall.
Mackerel, an eel, some dogfish, and a flounder, too.
I saw a hermit crab and a starfish — haven’t seen those in years.
Excited, I went there every day to watch them.

But weeks later, 
They’re now mostly gone.
Many are dead.
And my hope with them.

Why does this modern world 
have to cause so much harm?

Why can’t we live
with care and respect 
for the other beings
we share this planet with.

This rare precious 
jewel of life 
Spinning
in the cosmos.

It’s their home too.

-Asoka


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Asoka

Bad beat

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Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Wednesday, 13 Sept 2023, 19:53


Life can be unpleasant
Dark times happen
whether I like it or not

Exams are cruel.

I woke up sick
Struggled.

I am not sure I will pass.

Not just the academic exam.
But the exam of life.
I failed in every aspect today.

Got angry this morning.
Couldn’t let go of it.
The horrible mood was sticky like glue.
And the body felt like shit.
A fatigued mind.
With all lucidity gone.

The thirst for non-existence was strong.

I burst into tears at one point.
This world can be harsh.
I hate money
Hate economics
Hate poverty.

I can’t get my head around it at all.
I long to escape.


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Asoka

What remains

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Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Friday, 8 Sept 2023, 23:11


The body
Sensations
Feelings
Perceptions
Thoughts
Sense consciousness.

It all comes from what is sensed in the world around.

The world of sights, sounds, smells, tastes, touch, words and ideas.
 
But I am not any of these things.
They are not me or mine.

Am I the objects in the world?
Am I sense-impressions and words?

Dependently originated they do not last.
As conditions change so do they.

This body is not mine. It grew by itself.
A biological process I have no control over.
It changes whether I like it or not.
It ages, gets sick, will one day die.
If it was mine, I would be able to tell it to stop ageing, to not die.
To be handsome, not ugly.
But it changes regardless of what I say.

If I was to chop off a body part and lay it on the ground.
Is that body part the self?

Where is the self in these five streams?
These five aggregates of clinging:
body, feelings, perceptions, thoughts, sense-consciousness.

When one lets go of identifying with them
Filters out all that is not self.

What remains?

A boundless emptiness not dependent on conditions
A state that isn’t born and doesn’t die
The unconditioned
Peace
Liberation
Relief from the pain of wanting.

Hard to put into words.
But I will keep trying.



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Asoka

That moment

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When good music hits the spot
I like that feeling a lot
How it makes my spine shiver
Like a beautiful colour
Making me feel alive
And on some level we jive
Your vibe
like the
Touch of a breeze
Setting my energy at ease
Fills me with zest
And I feel blessed
By something real

That’s how you make me feel.

-Asoka




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Asoka

Just this

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Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Wednesday, 16 Aug 2023, 16:36


Sitting here
Sounds all around.
Seagulls sqawking,
Dogs barking,
Cars trafficking.
People talking.
Construction work
and the odd chainsaw.
Cars scrunching the gravel
as they come and go.

I meditate.
Investigate.
The Buddha's teaching to Bahiya.

To let a sound be just a sound.
To let that which is sensed
be only that which is sensed.
Awareness and knowing,
being just that.
Without adding any more to it.
Without the 'I' making.
The story of
the person.

Neither here, nor there, nor inbetween the two.
This, the Buddha said, is the end of suffering.

It's the longing, the loathing, and conceit.
The impatience.
The angst.
The getting stressed
and taking it personally.
That's what gets in the way.
That's the problem.
That's what I need to let go of.

Without that there is just this.
And when there is just this.
there is no subject, no object.

The self disappears.

And when that happens there is peace.

...

-Asoka

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Asoka

Connected

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Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Wednesday, 9 Aug 2023, 20:54


I feel your love still.
Coming at me from afar.
Is it really you?

I am sorry I doubted our connection.
That I got things wrong.
I love you too.

I will always be your friend.
I care for you.
That is real.
And I'm sorry things have been shit.
For us both.

I feel your vibe within me.
Like beautiful magic.
Lifting this heart to lofty heights.
That I did not know it could reach.

Your energy pervades this being.
Is like I'm walking on air.

Your loving energy touches,
Lighting up my scalp
My neck.
Making me tingle with joy.

Phoenix fireworks of love.
Bursting 
With happiness.

Is this all in the mind?

If so, why does this heart feel so bright?
So clear
So calm.

Within it burns something new.

I think it is you.

...

..

.


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Asoka

Metta magic

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I often think of you.
I am sure I feel your energy at times.
A part of me says it is all in my head.
That I am deluded.

But the unmistakable warmth in my heart says otherwise.
Tells me it is real.

I am grateful.

There have been dark times where I almost gave up.

Then I felt such love coming from you it melted my heart. Opened it wide like a window letting in a Spring breeze.

The joy returning.. 

...


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Asoka

One excellent night

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Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Tuesday, 25 July 2023, 10:21


' Let one not revive the past.

Nor upon the future build one's hopes.
For the past has been left behind.
And the future's not yet reached.
Instead with insight let one see,
Each presently arisen state.
Let one know that and be sure of it,
Invincibly, unshakeably.
Today the effort must be made.
Tomorrow death may come.
Who knows?
No bargain with mortality can keep him and his hordes away. 
But for one who dwells thus ardently. 
Keeps at it, does not give up.
Practises by day, by night ---
It is those the peaceful sage has said
Who have had one excellent night. '

-- poem attributed to the Buddha


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Asoka

Formations

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Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Saturday, 22 July 2023, 10:18


Where is all this happening?
Sense impressions.
Feelings.

The body is in the mind.
The mind is in the body.

But what is in the heart?

The centre of
These changing dhammas.
Sankharas 

Built by
A thirst that's
Never satiated.

This empty existence
I cling to.

...




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Asoka

Connection

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When I wake up, you are my first thought.

Throughout the day I feel you in my heart. The love shines out into the world. Makes others smile.

Wish I hadn't wrote what I did.
Wish I could take back those foolish words.
I never wanted to make you sad.

But I can't go back and change the past. Nobody can.
I have to let go of this.
Learn what I can.
Be wiser in future.

A connection like that is rare and beautiful. I wish I had been a better friend.

I wonder if we could've made it work.
I felt a good vibe about us.

Nevermind.
What's done is done.
Life moves on.
Things change.

But I still think of you.

...





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Asoka

Sunday night

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Sound of air like

Gaia speaking

White noise

Whispering 

Thoughts

To sleep

...


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Asoka

A night in the harbour

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Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Wednesday, 5 July 2023, 20:36


Pacing back and forth
I am tired but mindful.
Waves of tears crash.
Into the ocean wind.

I leave the beach to find shelter.

Watch each presently arisen state
flow and fade away.
Mind is like the ocean.
A morphing psychic energy,
Restless
Dissatisfied.
Moving
From one thing to the next,
Darting erratically.
Flickering this way and that
Becoming different shapes and patterns.

Like the wind.
Its involuntary movements.
Constantly changing.

I sit still.
In the temple of the body.
In the solidity of the earth.
Attentive to the air element.
The cool touch of it on the skin.
Centre with the breath energy,
The whole body and mind.
Earth and air become one.

And in a moment of bliss.
The mind converges.
All goes into sync.
Becomes unified, and still.
Whole-hearted.
Content.
Present.
Harmonised.
Tuned into Nothing.

And I leave the world behind,
Everything disappears.

A pigeon watches me with interest
Perched above in the Victorian architecture.
Night becomes dawn
And it coos with delight.

The unnerving banshee shrieks in the tunnel
Turn out to be seabirds.

-Asoka

...


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Asoka

Transient

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This world doesn't last
Youth and beauty
Fade so fast
Like fireworks
that go off in the night.
Beautiful for a moment
But soon out of sight.
Forgotten
Even our memories change
Disappear.
In the long descend.

Is it all worth it, in the end?

...

 


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Asoka

Love's vessel

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The heavy baggage of the ego.

Full of compulsive,
wants,
demands,
and criticisms.

These restless involuntary movements of the mind.
That lead to confusion,
delusion,
and a whole mountain of suffering in the end,
all for just a teacup of pleasure,
made of fragile bone-china.

When one sees 
That everything we cling to
Is empty of self.
One lets go and
That psychic energy is freed up
Available,
Unbounded,
Limitless,
Empty of conceit. 
Serene and
Boundless.

The compulsions cease,
and there is peace... ah..

Then the self returns.
And one gets deluded once more.
Caught up in the things of the world.
Swept this way and that by the changing winds.
Pain and pleasure,
Gain and loss,
Success and failure,
Fame and disrepute.
These are the eight wordly winds.

Then one sees again that it is stress,
Understands this is suffering,
Remembers. 
The emptiness of self.
Lets go of the trash
Sweeps it aside
All that silly nonsense.
Returns to calm
Composure
Centred
Lucid 
One wakes up from the self-centred dream.

And there is cessation, relief, a moment of bliss.
No longer driven, one rests in peace.

Till thwarted again
by one's past conditioning.
The ego pops back up
like a jack-in-a-box.

Rinse and repeat.

This is the work of purifying the mind
of greed,
hate
and delusion.

It can take lifetimes for some.

But as mindfulness develops,
And one's ability to calm and centre the mind gets stronger.
The untangling gets easier.

And through it all one must not strain,
just the right amount of effort is needed.
Just what you can
The best you got,
At your pace.
That's enough
That will get the work done,
not too tight,
not too loose,
gradually,
patiently,
gently.
One steers one's course through the middle way,
avoiding the extremes.
Centred, composed.
Let love be your compass.

When one realises that nothing is personal.
One's sense of humour returns.
One stops taking it all so seriously.
One feels at peace.
And from that freedom,
joy naturally rises,
Independent of the world.

And love rises too.

Unbound
A greater love.
A love without conditions attached to it.
An unselfish love.
A love without a trace of the conceit 'I am'.

The happiest, most beautiful love of all. 

A vessel emptied of self
can manifest that.

...

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Asoka

April gold

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I walk above the town
In fields that could be a deva world.
Golden yellow everywhere
The scent of gorse flowers
Reminds me of coconut.
Crows croak
Birds sing
And not a car to be heard.
The sound of traffic gone.
I am completely alone,
No person in sight,
It's so quiet,
I can hear
The wind blow through the grass.



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Asoka

The Song Thrush and the Sea

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Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Friday, 7 Apr 2023, 14:41


Ocean wavelets
Make pebbles sing
A song of stone
Of Ancient days
Sun shadows of time
Flickering before me.

I am still and silent like a human sundial
And somewhere close by
A song-thrush sings
The sounds carve
Spiral
Beautiful shapes
Across the air
Gladdening the mind.

A joyful usher of Spring
Reminding me of 
Love
And the beautiful spaces within.

- Asoka



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Asoka

Sorrowless

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Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Thursday, 23 Mar 2023, 15:20

We etch patterns

On the island shores
Of one another’s minds.

And here, on this island far away
I see you sorrow

Hold you in my heart.

And in my mind,

With warm karuna 

I reach out across the land
Across the great sea.

To hold your hand.

Reach out 

Like a gentle breeze

To lift you up.

May you feel supported.
May you never feel alone.

May the devas, the angels protect you
And always keep you safe.

May you feel loved.

Comforted 

At ease.

May your heart be filled with a golden peace.

And may this metta wave

sweep away
all your sorrow and grief.

– Asoka


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Asoka

Turbulence

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Sea swirl, 
smash on path
air turbulently
picks up things
makes them dance
with playful icy fingers
that blow open my hood
Exposing head and neck
to ice chill blows
It is unpleasant.
But I endure 
retreat to a deep
sheltered place within.

The path changes direction
And now the wind is at my back.
I replace my hood and
The warmth feels pleasant
Soft touch of cloth flapping like wings.
As excited air blows all around me
Swirling puddles into
hypnotic patterns and shapes
A liquid reflection of how things change.

Seagulls hover above in perfect stillness
effortlessly flowing with the wind
weaving in and out of each other's paths
Masters of stillness in motion.



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Asoka

Worldly winds

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Time
Memory
Flows
Now gone
The second hand ticking.

Self-streams
A narrative 
Clarative
Breathing.

Notice
the wanting.

Pulled by the eight wordly winds:

'Pain and pleasure;
Wealth and misfortune;
Success and failure;
Fame and disrepute.'

These are the eight worldly winds.
That pull one's craving
This way and that
That way and this

Freedom from desire is bliss.

To learn to gently let go of the clinging.
And be kind to each moment
Making peace.

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Asoka

Tranquil metta

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Wishing,
longing,
craving for things to be different.
Like a downcast elephant in the corner of the room.
Won't budge
So I gave up trying,
sat with it as a friend.
'Ah! Sadness be at ease.'
And relaxing,
letting go.
It was gone
transformed
into joy.


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Asoka

Stardust

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Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Friday, 29 Apr 2022, 23:23

Walking inner streets
Alive with techno beats
Expanded heart and mind
Explore a deeper world within
The elements echo
An ancient feeling
A timeless
Wordless
Memory
Something altogether unworldly

A golden peace.



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Asoka

Footsteps

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Light and breezy
Tranquil sound of waves
As invisible air shapes its
Sign on skin and water
Seagulls call glide
Circle high above
These worn sandy shoes
With feet bright
Like Spring.



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Asoka

Streams

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Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Tuesday, 19 Apr 2022, 19:43

I become someone new
each and every moment.
Who am I?
What am I?
Just streams,
always changing,
rearranging.
Insubstantial.
Interdependent.
Energy.
Flows.

for decorative purposes: A scan of my painting called: 'Streams'

A free download of painting as 300dpi scan is available here from my website for personal, non-commercial use.

May you be filled with serenity, peace and infinite wellbeing.


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Asoka

Loved up

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Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Monday, 11 Apr 2022, 22:08


I am happy to love you
Even if you don't love me back
Love expects nothing in return
Love is its own reward
That lush euphoric state of mind
Is the benefit I receive
When I wish you well
Makes the world glow.



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Asoka

Emancipation of the heart

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Thinking even happy thoughts,
Gets tiring.... 
and I rest in footsteps,
Crossing over streams,
Nothing's what it seems.

Perception shifts to absorption
Unified awareness streaming on and on
it goes...
Flows... into a lucid state of mind
this river of consciousness refined
refreshed by samhadi
profound serenity
Hearing
as if for the first time
Colours and tactile sensations rhyme
with ethereal perceptions
beautified by luminosity
and a loved up bliss
cooled by equanimity.


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