The Dharma Heruka

The Dharma Heruka

According to Buddha-Dharma there are six realms of incarnation within Dukkha-Samsara:

1. Naraka-Gati: Infernal suffering ad infinitum.
2. Preta-Gati: Eternal famine of the hungry ghosts.
3. Tiryagyoni-Gati: Animalistic existence; both domestic and wild.
4. Manusya-Gati: Human condition; Nirvana nearby yet elusive.
5. Ashura-Gati: Jealous demigods locked in perpetual combat.
6. Deva-Gati: Heavenly beings lost within blissful self-absorption.

Ideally, Humans should be able to break this whole vicious cycle of reincarnation. But since these realms are literal as well as allegorical, it would appear that our world borrows most heavily from Ashura-Gati (although all six realms are definitely found here on Earth).

In Tibetan Buddhism the Tantric Guru Padmasambhava is reputed to have pacified many such demons and enlisted their aid as fearsome defenders of the Dharma.

Consequently, current circumstances call for a rare breed of spiritual warriors whom can transcend the Devas themselves while lifting humanity upon their selfless shoulders.

Seek ye out and meditate on The Dharma Heruka...

Image:  Samvara Yidam

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Caliginous Penumbra

Caliginous Penumbra

Terra, Sol and Luna in winter solstice syzygy

From darkest day to brightest night

Dealing delayed epiphany

Seventh gamma ray drop

From on high down astral drain

Thunder crackles loudly in each human's brain

Ever softly strumming strings the spheres do gently weep

Fugacious florid script, etched with angles oh so steep

Here below we mortals sleep 'til death do us reap

Far above our world a portentous portal closes fast

On finely tuned perception will infinite memory repast

Live unadulterated—vaulting welkin boldy—although vast

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First Will And Testament

First Will And Testament

Worried about death coming after either one of us

Determined nevertheless not to make a fuss

That door's forever hinging upon our truss

Spirits calling out may be a plus

Life's mystery is too grand for some to suss

Repeal postmortem prayers but don't dare cuss

For ashes unto ages, from dawn to dusk

Eagle's flustered feathers have all four winds nonplussed

You're expecting answers to tricky questions just because _________ ?

Let's not miss out on real life; good golly gloomy Gus!

Image: Destiny of The Endless from Neil Gaiman's The Sandman series.

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The Bright Side of Kali

Note: Kali is Shiva’s female counterpart and is considered the ultimate destroyer because her power represents the inescapable march of time.  Although her name means ‘black one’, Sri Ramakrishna once said: “She appears black because She is viewed from a distance; but when intimately known – She is no longer so.”

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The Bright Side of Kali

There are times when she appears in dreams 
Either donning the masks of bygone lovers 
Or revealing a luminous visage 
Her very presence gives fulfillment 
Her silent voice calls through the void 
When thou art pressed against that bosom  
Manifestation be destroyed
Atman cremated on her altar 
Baptized in light, so overjoyed!

She is embodied by every woman 
But too few women ever wake her
For who can hope to mirror Kalis' 
All-encompassing allure?

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The Tyranny of Words

The Tyranny of Words

De Facto benefactor of every actor

Meaning outweighs these sounds by tons not pounds

Whether Pope, President, or Professor — Etymology is the emperor's undresser

Across genetic world wars are waged for memetic primacy; prim petty piracy

Like order emerging from chaos, ideals furnish inertia with gloss

Voices of authority drown out the majority

Images make transparent things more apparent

But lies oft go unreported by what a Sign has purported

Wherever a book, joke, phrase, or essay has vexed (check your specs) delve into subtext

Government, media, and religion all continue to endorse neo-colonial discourse

Bourgeois bard irresponsible, cannot act as lingual constable
This psychobabble hangs too high over their vocal rabble

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Wholesale Proverbs

Wholesale Proverbs

 

Engage the flow and let its current take you where you need to go.
It's better to be alone than in bad company.
Everything should fuel that fire at your core.
Treat rough people and experiences like a steady source of coal.

Those who are unwilling to cooperate rarely pull their own weight.
Anyone unnecessarily difficult is hardly worth an honest effort.
Strive to maintain a balance betwixt temporary compromises.
Fools dance on wise mens' graves, just before the phoenix rises.

Henceforth, look to many fine examples set by each preceding Mensch
(Cursed are the meek, for it is nothing they'll inherit
by relying on a prophet whose ideals hold low merit).
Not unless one's will be brazen, will one possess such strength to wrench —

Golden apples of immortality
Off of Hesperides' branch!

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Poetic Paradigm Shift

Poetic Paradigm Shift

Emergency measures now call for insurgency

A surge through our Nous carries forth urgency

So diverge from cool kids or any public indecency

This dirge silly fools cannot chant sans hypocrisy

Do not hurl valued pearls before swine kakistocracy

Purge impure fuels then supplant meritocracy

Merge useful tools to reinforce such ascendancy

Scoff at and ridicule presumptuous redundancy

Verge on cruelest rule vis-à-vis co-dependency

Emerge feud demure and then perhaps, resplendence see...

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The Poet is DEAD — Long Live The POEM

The Poet is DEAD — Long Live The POEM

Author, Writer, Poet

Artifact of tomorrow's society

While alive may portray impropriety

Whereas profundity may only be gleaned by posterity

Bards embody ideals floating within realms unreal

But few people at present can clutch our New Deal

Through semantic space some grope and cop a feel

Thus between these lines one's Animus should show it

Yet whoso could discern such a message if inchoate?

Years often pass in decades before meaning is procured

Poetic offspring must proclaim immortal words are inured

Public illiteracy endured until readers' minds mayhap mature

Carom headlong past post-modern doldrums; beyond right or wrong

Carefree aplomb inhabits this song, which chorus hums alto strong

Vanity a ticking time bomb soon succumbs to the throng

Vanishing rhyme reappears — via disappearing Poet

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Logos Endiathetos

Author's Note: This piece is the sister-poem to: Logos Prophorikos.

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Logos Endiathetos

 
Far enough back, during ages interred beneath historical sediment
Mankind hailed the transcendent, immanent Godhead
By regarding nature with an utmost degree of respect.

Mountains, forests, oceans, lakes and streams were held sacrosanct.
Likewise, animals were considered divine harbingers and close kith
While innocence afforded us glimpses of ineffable absolutes.

Still, it gradually came to pass that men grew leery of each other...
Avaricious and fratricidal, they turned against one another
Christening barbarism a new virtue.
Yea, from that time forth every war has involved
Pillaging rival nations, ravaging their virgins, and torturing captives.

Having shed all compassion for his fellow hominids
Homo Erectus went on to domineer wild beasts
Touted "Steward of Earth" by vainglorious priests.

Homo Habilis followed suit; inventing flint implements
Which at first served as tools and then later as armaments
When Cro-Magnon slew Neanderthal, clearing way for we Sapiens.

Such were the days of our youth, obscured now by pretended civility.
For we're loathe to admit that we've hardly hit puberty
Believing that we scale the very peaks of humanity.
Adept with legalese and the boons of technology
Yet inept in affairs that require any sympathy.

Knowing naught about providence but presumptuous theology
And estranged from the blatantly obvious reality:
To venerate one's own neighbor—is quintessentially holy!

The veil has been rent in the Sanctum Sanctorum
(little hope is there left for regaining decorum).
Lo, a world midst its throes of thermal shockwave alarum!

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Logos Prophorikos

Author's Note: This piece is the sister-poem to: Logos Endiathetos.

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Logos Prophorikos

Humanity reveres the image, since it alone evades all-encompassing definitions of itself while still providing thoroughgoing expositions for everything else.

Entire civilizations are fashioned after the cutting edge visions of prophets, because they dare to dream much more vividly than the rest of us combined.

Panoramic vistas overbrim with sheer significance
finding resonance within the eyes of keen beholders.

Pictures in motion captivate our attention and lull intellects
as we forget that cinema shares its esprit with real life.

But then there are those rare occasions when Icon speaks from two mouths; reconciling masculine noumenon to feminine phenomenon...

Amid a recurring interplay of scrumtrulescent young actors.

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A Dignified Death

A Dignified Death

Upon returning from the promised land
He took a stroll through the woods of his boyhood
Where deer tracks lay fresh within snow
Near trails hewn by blades o'er ice.

Trudging down a path he'd tread many a time
His sense of direction got muddled
Though that unrecognized tract sparked intrigue;
Alas, a felled pine waylaid him thereon.

'twas an august old fir
Whose enormous trunk stretched
Across its coniferous domain.
Younger timbers looked on in mourning...

Diffused through dense canopy
Solar flares slanted earthward
While chickadees darted
Over head of human bystander.

Left dumbstruck with awe
His own breath rose as mist
And he drew in the smell of that passing.
Heightened blood pumped blessedly then

Informed by those splendid surroundings:
"When majestic trees tumble—upright loners are called out to witness
 Because all living things, be they massive or small
 Can depart with immeasurable greatness!"

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Second Syntax

"Did the universe really begin?";

and, "Is the theory of the Big Bang true?"

These are not really questions, although they sound like they are.

The real question is whether or not

the only syntax that exists

is the syntax that requires,

as statements of fact

"beginnings", "developments", and "ends".

Other syntaxes exist.

There is one which demands

that varieties of intensity be taken as facts.

Within that syntax, "nothing begins" and "nothing ends".

Therefore, birth, for example, is not a clean, clear-cut event;

but rather, birth is a specific type of intensity;

and so is maturation;

and so is death.

A man of that syntax, looking over his equations,

finds that he has calculated enough varieties of intensity

to say with authority

that the universe never began,

and will never end.

He will conclude that the universe has gone through, is now going through, and will forever go through

endless fluctuations of intensity.

A man of that syntax could very well conclude that the universe itself

is the chariot of intensity,

and that a person can board it

to journey through changes without end.

He will conclude all that, and much more,

perhaps without ever realizing

that he is merely confirming

the syntax of his mother tongue.

~ Carlos Castaneda

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Second Syntax

Incessant internal banter

The Tower of Babel spins

Yarns strewn throughout one's ego

Like play by play commentary

In a vessel that never fills

Do not distress overly much

If broken tape throws for a loop

When perception sullies memories

Everybody finds their mind fumbles

While understating sooth

Yet verbal thought be but a bough

Growing from the trunk of consciousness

There are countless others anyhow

Like silent knowledge (Gnosis)

Dreams, and consensual bliss

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The Great Matter

The Great Matter

When the one who wrote this is gone, shall our species have gotten much further along?

We are each a brief candle, which no recounting can rekindle.

Within austere walls of Zendo (meditation halls), one question above all:

What means the Great Matter of life and death for those caught in the middle?

Who has ears for the Bards of yesteryear other than those Poets now here?

Why such aversion to departure when presence itself can be torture?

Where does a soul dream if its body leaves behind mundane stream?

Will we receive otherworldly consolation or face eternal damnation?

Were scriptures reliable then perhaps planning would be viable.

Without that however, each of us takes a lonesome dive into forever . . .

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Didactus Proclaimeth

Didactus Proclaimeth:


Like a crystal shattered into countless fragments
The jagged, incongruent edges of each individual human
Refract the sacred light of ethereal Being through mundane imperfection
Our planet is a hall mirrors where illusion reigns and truth goes unnoticed

Nonetheless, such collective folly does not actually negate life's underlying sanctity
Godliness is next to us during every given moment if we can only bypass Ego
That pitiable byproduct derived from religious and sociological brainwash
Our peril inadvertently handed down through well-meaning predecessors

This vicious cycle must be broken!

People, may your poets serve as prophets in an age devoid of soul
For they're often secret heralds who portend a brave new world
Where the balance between materialism and mysticism thrives
Our single shards conglomerated into an iridescent prism

Let not these hours pass by idly, given to spectacle or speculation
Clutch the stars themselves and dare to reorganize creation
So that instead of lamenting over how pathetic their ancestors were
Our descendants might look up with beaming pride at novel constellations

Thus hath Didactus spoken!

Image: Cosmic Angel courtesy of Martin Mancha

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Re-Union (side B) by Special Guest Earthen Hawk

Editor's Note: This current piece is a direct poetic response to: Re-Union. Kudos to Earthen Hawk for maintaining the literary form of poésie sans poète (Poetry devoid of I, ME, MY and MINE).

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Re-Union (side B)

Aural narcotics and literary highs

Scraps of nature in Crackton will have to suffice

Asanas at intervals

Anti-logos kinetic

Here it rains synchronicity

The mental climate is synesthetic

When judgments are suspended

Biorhythms show their wisdom

Overanalysis got traded for skin

and LCD Soundsystem

Image: Ardhanariswara — the fused form of Shiva-Shakti (masculine-feminine).

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Re-Union

Re-Union

Reciting lines from Naked Lunch down by riverbank

An afternoon lit for Dharma Lion Beats

Language laden with superficial rank

Except when sung in the streets

Momentous Yogic absorption

Second Syntax cuts through

Phallogocentric subversion

Incantations read by you.

The song be well-known
Our ears hear its refrain:
"Naturally, entangled bones
Shall come together yet again!"
Chemical Brothers took us Further
Than we could have expected to ride
Wavelets of sound do commit ego murder
When worlds such as these two collide.

Enjoyed this piece? Read its SEQUEL: Re-Union (side B).

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Allegorical Misadventure

Author's Note: Written for a friend suffering from a crippling addiction to crack-cocaine.

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Allegorical Misadventure

Brought to the brink of desolation by his brother

Abel was unable to discern a valid pattern amid distorted ether

Where a threshold dividing sanity and insanity stretched on

For at least twelve hours spanning an interval within which

Friends seemed like enemies and strangers were strangely familiar

Minutes hung in the air like smoky strata

Hours flew by fast as photons

Memories mingled with living moments

Giving birth to future longings

Erratic yet static—until Cain fled without warning

Exiling himself into an inhospitable wilderness

Where he fed on thorns and drank what few drops

He could squeeze from the stones with raw fists

Not realizing that his brother had forgiven him

And bore him no ill will whatsoever

Though incredibly clever

Cain forsook his staunchest ally

In a foolhardy attempt to tempt heaven

For barring its gates against their parents

As well as the whole human species

Abel would recover over time

But could never feel quite complete

Since his heart had been maligned

Such is the cruel fate of our kind

From cradle to coffin—down six feet beneath

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The Interloper

The Interloper

Seen only by similar cats
It skulks through the shadows
At ungodly hours

Spewing verdant vapor down alleyways
And deserted parking lots
But with nostrils flaring upward
Inhales light from heaven

Denizen of darkness
Not quite one species nor another
Camouflaged by gaps in our common continuum

Trees speak to it as do stones and bodies of water
Inscribing human sins upon memory
For they recognize a missing link
Who yearns to exhort:

Skip a step in evolution
Dare to cross this burning bridge
Before its embers are dispersed beyond retrieval

Anachronistic friend, join those few on yonder ridge!

 Image: Tezcatlipoca by spacecat101.

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Standing Tall Despite The Fall

Standing Tall Despite The Fall

Begrudging the drudgery of nine-to-five purgatory
Where repetitive Top 40 hits add insult to injury

Every day spent in penance for hearts broken at war
Cracking rocks in a quarry 'till bone and muscle go sore

Loose ends struggle to meet in the middle
Life's meaning? A poorly thought-out riddle!

Hair grizzled like granite, feet made of clay
Would-be lover back home gone astray

Connecting link with Great Spirit all rusted to dust
Fewer allies are there now left to trust

Waning hopes turn to despair around here
Yet even so—inside this chest dwells no fear!

Image: "Full Hollow" Ichigo from Bleach (anime).

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Morality's Mortality

Morality’s Mortality

The Good you ask?

A relativistic concession!

Evil wears every mask;

Sinners will hear your confession.

Much bloodshed throughout history

Has been considered for just cause.

There really is no mystery

Why we challenge those old laws.

The Good is apparent only

When present becomes past.

Future judges, lofty, lonely

While dead culprits are amassed.

As we now pass judgement on yesterday

So by tomorrow on us it shall pass...

Yet who can rightfully say

If any given purview will ever last?

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Come Heaven or Hanging Comets (Bi-Lingual Edition)

Come Heaven or Hanging Comets

Together, we can confront anything

Dearest Suz, our astral chords are intertwined

Although these bodies may not be joined

We shall conquer destiny itself

Beauteous Queen of Swords

He who guards your back

Does not merely wish to lift your gown

But rather seeks a way to avert failure

While proving that you really ought to love him

So leave the gates open for thine humble disciple to enter thy majesty!

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Aunque Se Venga El Cielo o Cometas Colgantes

Juntos, nos podemos enfrentar contra cualquier cosa
Querida Suz, nuestras cuerdas astrales estan atadas
Aunque estos cuerpos no esten unidos
Conquistaremos el destino
Bella dama de espadas
El quien te guarda la espalda
No tan solo quiere levantar vuestra falda
En vez busca alguna manera de evitar fracasar
Mientras tratar de comprovar que lo debes amar
Por eso deja vuestra puerta abierta para darle entrada al discipulo, maestra!

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Epicurean Accomplishments

Epicurean Accomplishments

Gallivanting downtown on a Saturday night
Anyone could have sworn: this throng is an outpour of Maenads!
 
We were drinking like fish
We'd been smoking like chimneys
Then cut up lots o' rug
While tripping on ecstasy
 
House beats were hitting hard against our SURFACE
When everyone flowed as Shiva Nataraja showed us
Because time isn't money—time's verve in motion
Oh and by the way, rain indoors, qualifies as miraculous
 
So just relax, keep it simple
Be aloof but stay humble
Lose self within action
To recall what's eternal
 
For those who breathe every moment
Shall surely traverse the immense breadth of infinity
Before anyone else can even
Complete the *blink* of an eye!

Image: Shiva Nataraja "The Cosmic Dancer".

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Opinionated Young Men

Opinionated Young Men

Thoughts naught but thinly veiled agitation

Outspoken whenever there's an occasion

Convictions without factual validation

* Hatchlings peck at mother hen *

Adolescent lions patronize the pride

Impatient toward elders who preside

Overeager for openings to deride

Opinionated young men

Deaf except to their own voices

Greenhorns spooked by sudden noises

Leaving the civil with few kind choices

If you've had enough, say when ...

Image: Samson Slaying The Lion by Goran Gecovski.

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Comedy, Divine ?

COURT FOOL, n. The plaintiff.

~ Ambrose Bierce 

 

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Comedy, Divine ?

Laugh as if your lives depended on it

The wisdom of humor often falls on deaf ears

Just because something's funny doesn't mean that it's trivial

Comedians are often overlooked for pointing out what's obvious

But few others can put matters so succinctly or pointedly

Recall; Attic theater is represented by both tragic and comic masks

Spreading mirth might be the least appreciated of all art forms

Most people are either unable or refuse to look past any crudity

They miss coded messages mischievously packaged within jokes

Which is why the fool wields such secret power

Play's that thing wherein lies ensnared mind of a king —

Seriously now folks, laugh like your very lives depend on it!

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