To be less vulnerable you have to live, vulnerably.
Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category
Posted in Philosophy, Poetry on September 28, 2012| Leave a Comment »
Posted in Philosophy, Poetry on September 28, 2012| Leave a Comment »
I want to live in a world with no love of fear and no fear of love.
Posted in Poetry on September 25, 2012| Leave a Comment »
I’ve often asked myself
what I’d say
if someone asked me
suddenly
at the point of a gun
are you a buddhist?
What would a true buddhist say?
Posted in Poetry on September 25, 2012| Leave a Comment »
Sometimes I think that it is better
not to be successful. To not be burdened
by its contingencies.
Posted in Poetry on September 21, 2012| Leave a Comment »
I brought you to me in the dark before anyone knew,
and you smiled I could feel it.
How hard did we work to get to this place?
I should know but I don’t.
Actuality is a concept better turned over
to monks and brazen women.
Once when you were asleep,
I moved all over your body in a dream.
I was surprised to find you alive.
The water on your face, warm.
Posted in Poetry on September 18, 2012| Leave a Comment »
the bell that rings your whole life long,
is the rhyme you can’t unhear.
it takes its time,
it makes all clear.
and when you can’t resist
the walk up your final mountain
bought with sweat of your brow
and costly grime.
it brings you home.
it makes you mine.
Posted in Poetry on September 18, 2012| Leave a Comment »
chalice
dear god
why did you make me
this ugly broken thing
that no one but you
could ever love?
Posted in Philosophy, Poetry on September 16, 2012| Leave a Comment »
art is not art that is not completed by the viewer.
this requires first engagement and response.
not necessarily a logical one.
because although A=A has a certain beauty,
it may not always be true.
Posted in Philosophy, Poetry on September 16, 2012| Leave a Comment »
it’s a metaphor: it’s not meant to make sense.
in fact if it doesn’t, then you’ve done your job,
as a meta-forest.
Posted in Poetry on September 15, 2012| Leave a Comment »
who remembers
their youth as a splash of mountain candy?
in what homey tale did we all grow up?
i remember much more ugliness than is usually talked about.
the problem is that most people don’t reveal themselves
except in moments of extreme emotional distress—
then they become interesting.
but by then it’s too late,
as one really doesn’t want to reinforce
that kind of interesting.
metonymy4u 