Two months of writing.

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The Cicada
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Re: Two months of writing.

Post by The Cicada » Sat May 12, 2018 5:38 am

Cicadas sing on a summer's day
I sit belly full beneath ancient mesquite
West Texas sun beams where worlds collided
Body and mind spent but sated
I danced forth from potentiality
Lord Buddha, I did your work
I snap my fingers, cough, and depart
"Again and again they will be banished"
My exile a sublime extinguishment
Clockwise swastika seal upon my heart
Displaying medicinal alchemy
Eternity, Happiness, True Self, and Purity
You are all destined to become Buddhas!

:namaste:
Respect

Jesse
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Location: Virginia, USA

Re: Two months of writing.

Post by Jesse » Mon May 14, 2018 1:34 am

My little boat at sea.
____________________________________
Everyone whom ever loved me
has abandoned me in one way or another
and soon left me alone drowning
in my own little sea of shame
and with no one there to save me
I've become so tired of playing these games
where I'm the one left wanting
left desiring
left...

And When you speak my name
all that will come out of your mouth
is shame.

I tried to be everything they wanted me to be,
see I gave it my all, now it's falling apart
and in my head I simply long to be free
What is free anyway? See?
See?
See...

I've never known,
Never had enough to lose to care,
and now it's really enough,

Enough..
Enough...
Enough....

Please,
Please take me away

On your tiny little raft floating on the sea
Untie the rope from the dock and left it drift
and carry me with the winds, and when I land
in lands so far away from myself that I can no longer
find a mirror or thing that evokes a memory,
Maybe I can finally say, I'm free,

Hey, hey, hey hey hey!

I'm finally gonna be free...
The cost of a thing is the amount of what I call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.
-Henry David Thoreau

Jesse
Posts: 1726
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Location: Virginia, USA

Re: Two months of writing.

Post by Jesse » Mon May 14, 2018 3:20 am

Jesse wrote:
Mon May 14, 2018 1:34 am
My little boat at sea.
Edited the poem quite a bit, so I'm reposting the revised version, sorry I shoulda fully edited before I posted, but I keep finding things I want to change. :reading:


My little boat at sea.
------------
Everyone whose ever loved me
has abandoned me one way or another
and soon left me alone, drowning
in my own little sea of shame
and with no one there to save me
I became tired of playing games
where I'm the one left wanting
left desiring
left...

And When you speak my name
all that will come out of your mouth
is shame.

I tried to be everything they wanted me to be,
see I gave it my all, now it's falling apart
and in my head I simply long to be free
What is free anyway? See?
See?
See...

I've never known,
Never had enough to lose to care,
and never cared enough to lose what I had,
now it's really enough,

Enough..
Enough...
Enough....

Please,
Please take me away

On your tiny little raft floating at sea.
Untie the rope from the dock and left it drift
and carry me with the winds, and when I land
in lands so far away from myself that I can no longer
find a mirror or thing that evokes a memory,
Maybe I can finally say, I'm free,

Hey, hey, hey hey hey!

I'm finally gonna be free...
The cost of a thing is the amount of what I call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.
-Henry David Thoreau

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The Cicada
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Location: Trumpaloka

Re: Two months of writing.

Post by The Cicada » Tue May 15, 2018 4:01 am

The Chupacabra

Where are you, chupacabra?
In my heart? In my "soul?"
Where did the chupacabra come from?
Where did it go?

Are you sapient, hemovore?
Did the goats leave you wanting more?
Did they ever catch you in South Texas?
Or was it just hoax-as?

Will we ever know who engineered you?
Where you made in the same lab where they made swine flu?
Do you think pot should be legal?
What if you had a pet beagle?

I don't have the answers to these questions.
Stop following me around...
I can't fix your problems.
I just came here for some tobacco and a Powerade.

I'm not antisocial I just have better things to do with my time.
Arguably many people might rather I didn't do those things.
But it isn't their karma for me not to do those things.
I too, am a force of nature.

Jesse
Posts: 1726
Joined: Wed May 08, 2013 6:54 am
Location: Virginia, USA

Re: Two months of writing.

Post by Jesse » Sat May 19, 2018 1:46 am

just writing whatever comes out
to express yourself
without the limitations
of the conscious judging mind
watching every word or action
for censoring
because questionable material
should never be said, even less written
lest society
should look at you funny
and you know what
as I remain getting older
I should care less and less,
but it seems
the older I get
the more censored I become
cause
they are definitely looking at me funny,
funny!
it's really not so funny
to be the one
whos being looked at,
but,
when your the one looking
its pretty hilarious.
The cost of a thing is the amount of what I call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.
-Henry David Thoreau

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The Cicada
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Re: Two months of writing.

Post by The Cicada » Sat May 19, 2018 4:19 am

Society

They'll burn you at the stake
Laugh, scoff, attack, berate
And attempt to deconstruct you
If you won't go along

Then, one day, their minds change
A wave of energy shifts in the mass
And whatever was attacked before
Is the new normal

I accept that you're all assholes
Who think you're really certain
About, like, lots of stuff
With a bit of humor

You really know what you're talking about
I'll humor each of you on that
And I myself am the most confident being
So I say, knowing full well I'm full of it

You don't know that you don't know
I must be Superman, apparently
I'll Clark Kent for them I guess
Since that tetralemma is too passé

But don't fool yourself
No one who ever made an assessment
Of you or anyone else
Ever knew what they were talking about

Unless they knew how much they didn't know
And perhaps in that knowing
Was a knowing of what they didn't know
And that's why I say these prayers.

Jesse
Posts: 1726
Joined: Wed May 08, 2013 6:54 am
Location: Virginia, USA

Re: Two months of writing.

Post by Jesse » Mon May 28, 2018 11:48 pm

Do you really want to know what it's like to be me?
Someone who was once free, to think, feel, act, believe
in my progression from one place to here
I've lost everything

Everything that made me feel
everything that made me feel whole
and secure

I'm no longer the person I was
my memories haunt me

My shadows torment me
torture me

every word I could say
is instantly used against me
in the worst ways possible

If I wanted to be beautiful
oh pity me, what a faggot

if I wanted to be masculine
just rape me now because my dignity is long gone

and in my pain, loathing, and self-hatred
I've given up on these things

Every word hurts because they intend them to
they stay by my side, waiting for the right moment
to break into my mind, and plant seeds of delusion
of anger, hatred, sadness, apathy, pain

and in my pain, I can only hurt myself
as a means to get back at them
because they are me, and I am them

Self-hatred is a fun game, where one forgets
that everything in the mind simply exists
formless, solid, yet lacking any sign, symbol or selfhood

but what does it mean anyway? When every voice is hostile
Every word meant to break your heart

Every moment, just waiting to dig deeper, with pleasant lies
that open cracks in your heart, and allows for their darkness to seep in
like tentacles made from pure hate, pure desire to destroy

I've dealt with them long enough, and in pushing them away
I've only made them stronger.

Made myself weaker

and one day, they will completely destroy me
My demons; they are cunning, they know me better than I know myself
and in this knowledge, they know just where it hurts
where to stick the blade

and twist
twist
twist

until my mind is no more
The cost of a thing is the amount of what I call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.
-Henry David Thoreau

Jesse
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Joined: Wed May 08, 2013 6:54 am
Location: Virginia, USA

Re: Two months of writing.

Post by Jesse » Tue May 29, 2018 12:03 am

I am pitiable

Undeservible

I count from 1 to 10
and back again

Only to find that all the sorrow in my mind
tends to blind, and in kindness im set free
what a way to be.. it's killing me
this and that, you and I;
I want you to know, just how much I care
but it seems it's more than either of us
can bare!

I'm so sorry if I find my way to the grave
step up, step off, and find myself falling on my face
disgraced, what a coward; to leave behind the only one
who wants to see, wants to be, a larger and larger part of me

you see; I've lived this life alone and in that paradigm
I can't share what I've seen, because living in your mind;
it tends to create memories less shared than our most deceitful lies
kind of a surprise that you want anything to do with me

because I'm a vampire, I suck; I bleed, I need you to love me
and my love returned is truly very empty

I lost it long ago; when they tore my heart from my body
and emptied my soul

What's left of me, isn't very fair; it's nothing you deserve
nothing you could truly bare, do you believe me?
do you deceive me? You tell me you wanted to to do a good deed
and in doing so, you just may have plucked the last string
keeping me afloat, from letting this world
utterly destroy me
The cost of a thing is the amount of what I call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.
-Henry David Thoreau

Jesse
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Joined: Wed May 08, 2013 6:54 am
Location: Virginia, USA

Re: Two months of writing.

Post by Jesse » Tue May 29, 2018 12:06 am

No matter what I say,
nor what I do;

you push me away like every bit of care
means nothing
You lecture me about how you're holding me up
but I've spent my entire life
holding myself up

I need nobody
am nobody

never have been, never will be
just let me be, free, see

be nothing like I've always been

because every time you speak
your guilt rubs off on me

and I can't take it some days
I'm trying to be everything you need
even in the midst of my wost days

and I just can't take it today
so let me be

in my empty bottle
I find a way to escape

and don't pretend it matters
because it doesn't

never has, never will
I'll write my will
pretend I care
and in the end,
we'll both return to where we came from
you with him, me with them

the epitome of selfish loneliness
where demons feast upon whats left
of my fragile mind

if you could see just how broken I am
you'd have never come running
because it's the last thing you need,
the last thing we both need

and if you keep right on,
it will destroy us both
The cost of a thing is the amount of what I call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.
-Henry David Thoreau

Jesse
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Location: Virginia, USA

Re: Two months of writing.

Post by Jesse » Tue May 29, 2018 12:17 am

How many days has it been?
Since all this started?
When did life become so hollow again?
Was it the drugs? The loss? My actions; I can no longer defend..

So hollow, Follow the rules but break them in silence..
Caught red-handed with a needle in my arm,
Surrounded by thugs with blank expressions
So zen; I'm a menace to myself, step off the path
into a place where I suffer alone; it's easier that way,
at least, that's what I tell myself, that's what I say.

With no one to hurt, or to hurt me, I break all the rules
and grin a melancholy grin, hoping for a stray bullet
to end it all. I can't do this again
was everything I struggled against in vain?

With a star in my sky, and a path to follow,
I hesitate to explain myself, I'm just so lonely
A giant phony, With no one there to catch my tears
So I go on living my life muddled in fear
It's not the first time, so just stay clear.

One of these days, I'll reach back to all the hands
Offering me a place to rest my head, so solemn is my mind
even surrounded by friends, I find myself totally alone
everyone eventually hits rock bottom..

So hollow, Follow the rules but break them in silence..
Caught red-handed with a needle in my arm,
Surrounded by thugs with blank expressions
So zen; I'm a menace to myself, step off the path
into a place where I suffer alone; it's easier that way.
at least, that's what I tell myself, that's what I say.

I just want to get out of here, I stare at myself in the mirror
and see that I can't find even a semblance of the man
I once was; where did he go? Did I grow out of it?
I'm no longer myself, and it really couldn't be any clearer.
The cost of a thing is the amount of what I call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.
-Henry David Thoreau

muni
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Joined: Fri Apr 17, 2009 6:59 am

Re: Two months of writing.

Post by muni » Tue May 29, 2018 10:07 am

The first and second poem from today looks like saying that real love is never binding. There is no higher Love then the help to free all. Let all be free. Of course it says much more but this I pick out.
In the last poem you write:

"I just want to get out of here, I stare at myself in the mirror
and see that I can't find even a semblance of the man
I once was; where did he go? Did I grow out of it?
I'm no longer myself, and it really couldn't be any clearer."

Impermanence and therefore no solidity? “I just want to get out of here.” Being “home” again, what is not 'one on its own in a changing world, mind obviously knowing that changing world but not itself.

I love these poems, Jesse. May you be well. :anjali:
“ Only the development of compassion and understanding for others can bring us the tranquility and happiness we all seek. ”
H H Dalai Lama

"Relax." nirvana-samsara do not stray from spaciousness.

Jesse
Posts: 1726
Joined: Wed May 08, 2013 6:54 am
Location: Virginia, USA

Re: Two months of writing.

Post by Jesse » Wed Jun 06, 2018 10:17 pm

Unfinished
I wonder how I've ended back up in this position
dependant on not just a chemical or two, but
dependant on the love of a person
You see, I was not born a human, nor have I lived as one,

I'm used to the beauty of the darkness, for in dark places
beautiful flowers grow, but it takes eyes
shadowed in darkness for decades to see them
and to pluck them, one needs a still heart
that no longer beats with the rhythm of a living being

that darkness has shaped my world, shaped my mind
yet in her voice, her words, and her love
I've found myself slipping from that place
being pulled into one in which I do not know how to live
Here there is light, and sights to be seen
with eyes practiced to the sun

I used to believe the universe whispered to me
and maybe it still does, it's just that it's been so long
since I've listened, that its song is distant
raw, and uncaring

You see the universe is lonely,
that's why it turned into you, and into me,
to be embraced with it's own warmth
to embrace itself in its own desire,
what a simple thing we endeavor, is it not?

By becoming creatures bounded in time, and space,
we've forgotten our true self and along with it
the wellspring of love that created us,
now we seek it, although in lesser forms,
experiencing it with only a few
and the upper casts of beings know this,

Somewhere deep in our subconscious we also understand, and we know that we've forgotten it.

It's just that demons have embraced darkness, and a total absence of love,
while we try to fill ourselves with small glimmers plucked from flowers that grow in the sun.
Demons, on the other hand, pluck flowers that grow only in the darkness, and those flowers have power over mortals,
they will call to thee and under their spell, you will dream dreams meant for only devas, asuras, demons, and spirits.

This nectar is not meant for humans, yet in our arrogance, we reach for their stock and supply,
and with it we compose beautiful songs and paint beautiful shapes,
we piece together majestic art and music that can open the mind,
bend it, twist it, and mold it in ways from which it can never retreat.

We create,
Things that even devas desire,

We create,
Things that even demons devour,

But to us humans these things are toxic, they are too much, and we become lost to them.
Such that we call madness is a consequence of reaching too deeply into the well of knowledge with an unbalanced, ignorant, distracted, and frail mind, and in doing so, we forsake everything for the pitifullest glimpse of eternity.

In that place; only gods and asuras may roam freely; humans, on the other hand, are far too greedy,
far too curious, far too ignorant, and far too dangerous to possess such knowledge.

We should stick to light plucked from flowers growing in the sun,
because those flowers which grow in the darkness will only lead to our damnation,
the conclusion of our race, and the manifestation of something far more terrible than any of our myths ever suggested.
The cost of a thing is the amount of what I call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.
-Henry David Thoreau

muni
Posts: 4530
Joined: Fri Apr 17, 2009 6:59 am

Re: Two months of writing.

Post by muni » Thu Jun 07, 2018 12:18 pm

:heart:
“ Only the development of compassion and understanding for others can bring us the tranquility and happiness we all seek. ”
H H Dalai Lama

"Relax." nirvana-samsara do not stray from spaciousness.

Jesse
Posts: 1726
Joined: Wed May 08, 2013 6:54 am
Location: Virginia, USA

Re: Two months of writing.

Post by Jesse » Fri Jun 08, 2018 11:13 pm

Untitled
I hate my life
Hate my choices

What am I to do?

reach back in time, try to find
a place where I truly belonged
out of all the places I've been
how many have really felt like home?

crazy, dazed; hazy late tomorrows
find myself regretting it all
and trying to numb all of my sorrows

in retrospect, most of my life has been a lie
so I retreat in cowardice, to hide the wounds
everpresent in my heart, for if one real scar where to emerge
I can't imagine what they would say...

what would the point be? I'm a hypocrite, a liar
a shapeshifting bulldozer, running from myself
toward something less painful, destroying all in my wake

and when I arrive it's like the saying, the grass is always greener
tends to set me straight
it's unpalatable, what's on my plate
and it's really, all just too late..

and every time I open myself to the pain,
it seems monsters, vampires, and shades
reach for the softest spots
and pull me back to a place
where I can't breath
can't see

and I'm really so tired
have you tried? oh I've been trying
it may all seem but a lie
but in my mind, I'm giving all I have to offer
I just don't consider any of it good enough.

and sometimes you shove it in my face,
I'm dangerous like this,
I don't want to hurt anyone
much less return to a place where I'm this cold
abandoned,
alone,
and afraid...

because there; everything I could possibly be
falls away, and what's left of me is just what remains in your memory
It's not me, it's not the same, I'd love to be there
to love you, to give you all the love trapped
beneath the layers of ice
that have frozen my soul, my mind,
and where behind illusions everpresent,
my life means nothing
and love is just an illusion like everything else
It's not alright
I'm not ok

I'm truly sorry
I can't keep putting up a fight
I'm tormented, truly
in my mind, in my dreams, I've seen you there
and I'm terrified by what you may see
inside of me.

I've tried to keep it hidden,
but you keep pushing and pushing
and if one day you see me for all that I am
you will run away.. because

I am not who you think I am...
The cost of a thing is the amount of what I call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.
-Henry David Thoreau

Jesse
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Joined: Wed May 08, 2013 6:54 am
Location: Virginia, USA

Re: Two months of writing.

Post by Jesse » Fri Jun 08, 2018 11:22 pm

Absolute Shite
Why am I so scared of losing something that isn't mine?
I mean what time is it anyway? Think I forgot something,
or maybe someone...?

I've been lost in drink, and tears, and pills with various shapes
why do I always pick the ones I can't have?
What a life joke is sometimes!
Listen -- pain will always come in various huh? and sizes..
and what of my fate? To suffer? to wither?!
Always, always.. just lost in a daze...
or is this all just a phase?

I can't remember right now, the hours getting late
and i'm buying a stairw.. wait, what was I saying?
ne-way, whatever, I dunno but It makes me wonder. :)

I hate being like this, but I can't give it up,
cause' ya know, they say drugs kill; but baby,
I'll tell ya somethin' thrilling
the largest cause of death.. I mean really..
is just being born, and well ya' know, maybe.
but fu.ck it, someone once said come as you are
revetahw, lets not talk falsely now
I'm lost, minds f.ucked and fried,
and I've eaten far too many pain killers.
The cost of a thing is the amount of what I call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.
-Henry David Thoreau

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Quay
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Re: Two months of writing.

Post by Quay » Sat Jun 09, 2018 8:52 pm

Thank you, Jesse. I think these are intense prose-poems. I also think if you can express what you're going through this well that you can compass the experience and by doing so find it has dimensions. And things like antidotes, transformations, and realizations both relative and absolute.

I also particularly like "shapeshifting bulldozer." Excellent phrase, that. I wish I'd thought of it myself. :heart:
"Knowledge is as infinite as the stars in the sky;
There is no end to all the subjects one could study.
It is better to grasp straight away their very essence--
The unchanging fortress of the Dharmakaya."

– Longchenpa.

Jesse
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Location: Virginia, USA

Re: Two months of writing.

Post by Jesse » Sun Jun 10, 2018 3:54 am

Quay wrote:
Sat Jun 09, 2018 8:52 pm
Thank you, Jesse. I think these are intense prose-poems. I also think if you can express what you're going through this well that you can compass the experience and by doing so find it has dimensions. And things like antidotes, transformations, and realizations both relative and absolute.

I also particularly like "shapeshifting bulldozer." Excellent phrase, that. I wish I'd thought of it myself. :heart:
Thank you very much, sometimes I think of not posting them anymore, but as long as people enjoy them I will continue. It's regrettable there is so much suffering in my poetry, but alas that is my experience. :shrug:

I wish I could write something happy for you all. :stirthepot:

Also, it's really a curse to know yourself so well, to be constantly aware of your inner state, thoughts, emotions... because, without an equivalent amount of equanimity, it drives you absolutely mad. I wish I had been told that you should train equanimity equally with mindfulness. Too late now. :shrug:

Mindfulness training sort of focuses your mind internally (I have always been prone to that anyway.) It makes you fully aware of your thought processes moment by moment, at least that is one component of it, the other component is obviously the equanimity, where the thoughts do not affect us, and they simply pass by without making a ripple in our minds. I didn't really train the later part enough.
The cost of a thing is the amount of what I call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.
-Henry David Thoreau

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Kunga Lhadzom
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Re: Two months of writing.

Post by Kunga Lhadzom » Sun Jun 10, 2018 4:09 am

Jesse wrote:
Sun Jun 10, 2018 3:54 am
I didn't really train the later part enough.
Do you have a buddhist teacher Jesse ?
The Universe flowing through my veins...stars falling from my eyes......rocks rolling in my head...lemon juice dripping down my chin....

https://drunklotus.blog

Jesse
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Location: Virginia, USA

Re: Two months of writing.

Post by Jesse » Sun Jun 10, 2018 4:23 am

Kunga Lhadzom wrote:
Sun Jun 10, 2018 4:09 am
Jesse wrote:
Sun Jun 10, 2018 3:54 am
I didn't really train the later part enough.
Do you have a buddhist teacher Jesse ?
Nope. I just listen, read, learn, and practice. Well, I can't say totally no. It's not something I should probably share as most would think I'm crazy,(well I am crazy, haha, but being crazy isn't mutually exclusive to esp they may even be related :tongue: .) and others would frown upon it, but you can meet many people in your dreams, and many beings do help earnest practitioners.

Many do not believe in telepathy, ESP, lucid dreaming, and non-corporeal beings, but they are very much a part of my reality, for better or worse.
The cost of a thing is the amount of what I call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.
-Henry David Thoreau

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Kunga Lhadzom
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Re: Two months of writing.

Post by Kunga Lhadzom » Sun Jun 10, 2018 4:50 am

Jesse wrote:
Sun Jun 10, 2018 4:23 am
Nope. I just listen, read, learn, and practice. Well, I can't say totally no
Jesse wrote:
Sun Jun 10, 2018 4:23 am
telepathy, ESP, lucid dreaming, and non-corporeal beings,
But why not try to find a real flesh & blood buddhist teacher ?

I also feel the presence of "others" watching over me....but it's nice to also have the real face to face living type .... :heart:
The Universe flowing through my veins...stars falling from my eyes......rocks rolling in my head...lemon juice dripping down my chin....

https://drunklotus.blog

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