Drowsy wings this morning
Didn't want to get out of bed.
Body kept saying: 'Nope'
To my thought-racing head.
The window glowed sunshine bright
And brain pleaded to get up and go,
but hardly slept a wink last night,
So body just said: 'no.'
Who is the boss anyway, body or head?
Body I guess cos one day I'll be dead.
There's no escape from that.
Drowsy wings this morning
Cold industrial echoes of the concrete night
Wet and tarmaccy puddles reflect artificial light
Serene raindrops ripple shape the liquid surface
Like this mind full of the noble eight-fold practise.
I walk with dignity
With the clear knowledge
There's no going back for me.
To exist is to suffer
And clinging has consequence
Pain follows inextricably, a shadow.
For that which you grasp for has already gone
Each precious moment: a phantom in your hand.
The five Khandha streams are empty.
And not who you really are.
I know that your higher mind is always with me.
Just as my higher mind is always with you.
These small monkey minds are only a tiny part of the whole.
The mind is much bigger than the one narrating the story of self.
With its limited conscious awareness and capabilities.
These physical bodies are not all there is to us.
But our physical side can get in the way of seeing this.
We get so caught up by the things of the world.
By our past conditioning and culture.
And the erroneous thinking of our modern age.
The truth is much of the mind is unconscious to us.
And what we are conscious of,
is just the tip of the iceberg.
There's so much more to us than we realise.
Our being interacts and is connected on a much deeper, more ancient level.
Greater than our briefly existing physical parts are able to see.
And when you look into the core of your being.
And trust the purity of what you feel there.
You will see that this energy is real.
I am you and you are me.
Anxiety in the mainline
The anxed in the iety
Something for the laity.
Opened up my mind
And what did I find?
A heaving can of worms
chomping each others tails
perfectly at war in a city of neurons.
Panic at the sight of nothing
On the edge of every sound
Everything makes my heart pound
This pound of flesh
My head really hurts...
But this a tune
helps me feel the flow
of who I really am
before all that
I stare blankly at the mess in my room,
Stare empty at the sky outside,
At the failed paintings on my wall,
And at nothing in particular.
I stare forlornly at this computer screen.
Wishing I hadn't said what I said to you,
Wish I could turn back time and stop myself;
but alas I do not have that power, noone does.
So I live now with regret and an aching heart,
A sad unhappy mind,
And another lost friend.
I miss you.
Sound of traffic gets under my skin
Crossing the road
I go into a trance
a pedestrian dance
look left, look right, oh shite
here comes another one.
Backwards and forwards
primate faces go in metal boxes
busy travelling from a to b
b to a and back to b again.
A frightened baby hedgehog stands frozen in the road.
Survived near death as a car went hurtling over,
the passengers completely ignorant of its life,
the squash of tyres thankfully missed though,
I wish it well.
Walking in the rain
heart twisting pain
No more beat within
Is that the price of sin?
Ah but there is no soul
It doesn't exist
Just a changing process
That never stays still
From one moment to the next
Who are you?
Feel the pain and grief.
And let it give you power.
The momentum to move forward.
To go beyond this empty world.
Beyond the tears of Samsara.
On to the other shore. To higher things.
To the deathless, and the freedom of nibbana.
Use the sadness to break the illusion.
To see through the delusion.
As Mara crushes your heart and mind.
Smile with equanimity at the rain, the pain.
Strength through adversity.
The first noble truth.
And caught up in the things of the world.
Hands up, it was me.
I lost my equanimity.
But feel closer now,
closer to the other shore,
Knock knock knocking on heaven's door.
Everything is insubstantial, empty,
just like you and me.
Is there a way to generate joy that doesn't depend on anything outside oneself?
Without it I feel like a bird with a broken wing, who longs to fly but can't take off.
Held down by the gravity of a crap reality.
The pain of separation, of living in a world that doesn't give damn.
A dream within a dream within a dream.
What is real anyway?
Is it the world out there? Or the world within?
There's a place the air touches
Where magic is real
Where people really do fly
And a myriad Buddhas
In the myriad worlds
Welcome you and
Say well done!
Internal combustion broken beyond belief
Opened up the heart but still no relief
Pain, and a feeling of disconnection
Alone, but don't feel like conversation
So me go deep inside
far far within
away from this place
to another space
where I forget who I am
and that's the best
to forget my self.
Leaves leave shadows
through dusty stained glass
musical rhythms make the
static shadows dance.
Mind and outer
a unified flow
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