A series of Haiku for each ñāṇa.


1st

Look, two things are seen,
Seemingly seperated.
Mind, body, entwined.

2nd

Thought triggers tingles,
Cause, effect, and on and on..
Mind, body bouncing.

3rd
 
Thoughts loop without help,
Flickerings spark and vanish.
Mind, body frustrates.

4th

Closer, more sublte,
The gaps and spaces between.
Mind, body bursting.

5th

Thoughts arisecollapse.
No ground nor place to plant feet.
Mind, body dissolves.

6th

Danger signs, not good.
I do not like this one bit.
Mind, body wary.

7th

Heavy breathing, sigh,
Chest feels so agitated.
Mind, body clenches.

8th

Repulsed, brow furrowed.
Like rancid food, turn away.
Mind, body disgusts.

9th

A get-away plan,
Devising an escape route.
Mind, body wants out.

10th

Again, revisit,
Mind-body loops keep looping.
Mind, body again. 

11th

Panoramic views,
Merging traffic, ID free.
"Mind", "body" witnessed.

Post-11th

Phenomena synch,
Self, mosquito itch, the same.
"Mind", "body" collapse.

The Path

Difficult ascent,
Hitches, bumps, snags and hurdles.
Half-summit worth it.

Let me join you on the subject of maps not being the terrain  

Experiences come and go
None of them of any value
Mindfull acceptance

Experiences, 
Do come and go, flux and flow
Value is assigned.

Mindful acceptance,
key to letting it all go. 
Tell that to old me. 

The map, not terrain, 
Terrain, littered with ignorance.
Knowledge clears it up. 

The map is a map, 
knowing to let go of it,
Mind-body is key.

Ah, Nikolai, my gratitude for the issuing of poetic licenses here at the Outlet is overwhelming. Please put my license fees on my tab, if you would be so kind.


Fucked, fucked, fucked, and freed

by all that fucking fuck fuck

to love this moment.

My precious maps
have gone to shit, the manure
that fed this loving.

I fell off that cliff,
buoyed by a single love word
from You, fathomless.

Lovely.

Here is an old one, but I'm still proud of it.

Skin itches and mind bitches
Thoughts shape and entice.
Bubbling chest, thoughts unrest,
And "I" am nowhere in the mix. 

Past regrets revelry,
Bubbling chest gets heavy.
Thoughts trapped in agitation net,
And "I" am nowhere in the mix. 

Vibes and pains and vibes and aches,
There was never any control for frack’s sake.
Heavy chest, you suck!
And "I" am nowhere in the mix. 

Heavy chest, let’s shine the light,
Vibrating heavy, vibrating delight.
Body bursting and mind is high,
And "I" am nowhere in the mix. 

Fast and revolving, and losing hold,
Nothing stable , slightly troubled.
Dissolving makes the head go round,
And "I" am nowhere in the mix. 

What…? Where..? Who is there?
Oh god, so primal. Sweaty palms.
Anxiety makes the tummy grumble,
And "I" am nowhere in the mix. 

Awoken dragon, breathing fire,
Body burning with desire.
Avert! Avert! Depression sounds,
And "I" am nowhere in the mix. 

Body, mind so bitter-sour,
Life takes on the state of dour.
Disenchantment reigns the day,
And "I" am nowhere in the mix. 

Mind wants out! Enough is had!
Cries for freedom, longing, mad.
Must escape this hell in “me”!
And "I" am nowhere in the mix. 

Misery walls, misery moat.
Fort of misery, misery catapult.
Buckle your belt, and hold your ground,
As "you" are nowhere in the mix. 

Head above the current tow,
All a flux and all a flow.
Dissipated, wide and calm,
And there is no-one in the mix. 

Head still above the shifting tide,
The key is turned, the door swung wide.
The senses cut, the kill switch flicked,
A “Self” was never ever in the mix.

Wow, that can be read as the entire journey, a single meditation, a fractal round of the stages of Insight. I lean toward the single meditation session reading, myself. Love the plays on the refrain line, sly and mantra-like, the bass beat.

This could be the lyrics for a very interesting country western song. Depending on the country.

Breakin’ Momma’s Heart

I know that i did it

when i called

collect

from that desert place

at midnight

way down toward Lone Pine,

just before the desert

really dries out

going east,

for the first time,

beyond grades now

forever.

I felt the pause

like a knife

that night.

It was still bright daylight

there in paradise

where you and the family

worked and played.


I heard it in the catch

in your voicewhen you said

I just remember

Mrs. Butler

the master teacher

of your fourth-grade class

telling me she saw

nothing
nothing

nothing

but gloryahead

for little Timmy. 



It broke my heart

to do that thing

to you.

The only thing that saved me

was the truth:

knowing

I would never be as bold as you, mother of mine,

nor as brave and bulletproof

as that man you married.




for fun, the draft version:

As I look on peerless stars,
Gravity pulling low the firmament,
A seed will drop from moon to navel,
Slow drop, and be caught in the withered palms
Of vision. And I will see again the stars,
Polished in their new-bound clarity,
And the seed will turn to cypress as
The fruits of the dead grow heavy. . .

Awake!

Perfect. I'd go with this version--- why hit the thing again when the nail is in the board.

Thanks for the input. I made a mistake, the line should read 'Before me the fruits of the dead grow heavy.' I was a little sleepy when I posted.

Again, thanks.

like?:
whaddaya think? it's a killer poem, Flower.

love, tim

Yep, that would be it. I think I like your version better. Thanks for the feedback. Here's another one:

Dragonfly

It whizzes past
& lands on
a leaning cattail.

I get closer;
rings of
irridescence flicker.

Detaching from
the stem it
resumes patrol,

rising on
a brush of wind,
bobbing out of sight.

-K

Yes!

Yes!

YESSSS!

Aversion city
is never pretty,
but it's on the road 
to Eh-qua-nimitty.

Composed while procrastinating practice last night.

lol, good use of wasted time, B.

Procrastination Poets Put Pith in Purveyances of Practice Pearls a-Plenty.



Dukha is the place I dwell.
Some would call this dukha hell.
I prefer a different story.
Dukha here is purgatory.

love, tim

Im so snatching these two for my new song as Im terrible at poetry (lyrics) but love making music! From now on this is where Im fishing! 

go ahead and assume a CC license on mine.

brandon, there could be big bucks in this for us if we unionize.

Fuck karma if we can broker a good cut on residuals. CC license revoked!

sorry papa-ji, you snooze, you lose. Our people will be contacting your people about our points on this shit. meanwhile, we'll be cranking out lyrics.


The don't pay me near enough
to take the shit i get all day long.
You can't pay a guy to live so rough
once you know he'll do it for a song.

love, tim

Cmon guys!!! What about all that Metta and all that Compassion and Altruistic Joy etc ???  Who cares about money anymore!

I GET IT   Did Mara put you up for this? Did he?! He's a dirty modda effer that Mara , lemme tell ya! Im gonna get him urgh, 

Sorry, Papa-ji. Business is business. No hard feelings. Take it or leave it. 

Oh screw you Tim FF and screw your effn manager too! He gave me 2% and even that he said I have to thank you as he wanted to give me only 1% !!! What an effin' leech that guy is! Where do you find these?!!! Any way I agreed, you win damn it! 

I borrowed your words ffrom two different poems/lyrics here from this thread. I hope you like it now that you have screwed me over on this record deal  you little piece of ... umgh! 

Here is the short song I managed to stitch into a couple of minutes;

EDIT; link to song in post bellow 

My apologies for posting a link to an unfinished song (first edit) it sounded aweful I know and one could not hear a single word! But now all is fixed and this is as perfect as I am able to get it. Its a new edit with changes and some extra lyrics to spice it up  


https://soundcloud.com/papa-dusko/dark-night-of-the-soul-2nd-edit

Papa-ji, I apologize for my former manager's greed. I had no idea he was pullong that shit behind my back. I've fired him, and the rst of my people. Brandon and I ask only a standard three-way cut on profits. Please negotiate only directly with him or me in the future, and I assure you our negotiations will be fair and just. Again, forgive me; i trusted that leech, and he betrayed me badly. My mistake in hiring him in the first place.

lyrics, in part:

Tell the ones who count that I have ceased to keep the cost.
Tell the cautious ones I am consumed and freed by pain.
Tell the ones who calculate their speech I make no sense;
but tell the ones who really care that I am lost,
well lost, as water's lost in rain,
flung into the atmosphere and spent.

Beautiful, Papa-ji, Thank you. The extra lyrics on your part are fucking awesome, I love them

You can have my share of the cut.

love, tim

 
Death is nothing but a dawn
of prayer. I wake
to no moon, midnight's sublime
gift whispering beyond desire.
 
The garden trees murmur the Passion,
waiting like flames in the dark.
 
Endure until morning,
thankful for each
translucent moment,
heart alone
and calm,
Your silence
singing.

last scan was just for kicks.  But this one may be a blues:



 
After Eden
 
And they were both naked, the man and his wife,
 and were not ashamed.
 
Genesis 2:25
 
for Jodi
 
 
We ate the unripe fruit and found it sweet,
and learned to lie as a lying team,
cloaked in leaves and the skins of beasts.
There is no use to speak of blame.
The gift of your face was always truth to me.
 
And now this grief, and the sword of flame,
and the cloven seed of our unripe truth,
and the way starvation came
with the lie we knew, like sugar
that forgot the sugarcane,
 
and believed such sweetness the only name
for love, until the children of our lying came,
and there was murder in the field
where love in its lies could never separate
the slayer from the slain.
 
I heard the snake as well as you;
I found that lying sweet.
And now I labor, mingling sweat with chaff and fruit.
There is no use to speak of blame.
The gift of your face was always truth to me.
 
What I remember now has never been,
a fruit that saw no ripening
before the place we lay was lost in shame.
And all of time until time’s end
is just that field where love lies slain
 
and just the face that seemed to turn away.
What I remember now has never been,
the patience and the grace,
a tree with deeper roots than the lies we made,
a fruit so sweet it’s worthy of your face.
 

Good man Tim for allowing me to use your lyrics. I really did try to write lyrics but they are just raw and in your face which is good for Punk but that ain't my style like "God save the Queen, I really mean it maaaan!" (puke). 

I will try and develop some sort of drums alone intro before the singing starts once I have time but I like this demo as it is already. So far nice 2 song we've made in our Late Night Dharma Overground Band