Arhat Codex (Fragment 33)

No one wants to be needed. Everyone wants to be wanted. Treat a Muse to Honey!

Hot and Cold

     The sun swung low on the horizon, a doomsday harbinger careening toward the Gulf of Mexico. From the parking lot, I could see it rend the sky asunder in a mystical gash of reds, purples, and blues—Heaven’s viscera.     We walked quickly. The air was chilled. Neither of us had expected it to be so un-warm in

Best Left Unsaid

I let the answering machine pick up so I can hear your voice.The tinny message washes over me with warm melancholy. (Is) That [is] all I ever wanted [.] (?) Sometimes… I hope you won’t answer.A quick fix. Easy. “Hi, you’ve reached Mike and Shea’s…” But, when I come down— when I come down it’s

The Neighbors’ Dog

The neighbors’ dog keeps barking.And barking.And barking. I wonder why it barks so much.I wonder why my neighbors won’t make it stop.I wonder why I don’t feed it rat poison when no one is around. Or beat it to death with a baseball bat. Or shoot it. Like Old Yeller. That would be fitting, as

Summers

I told you that I had changed.That isn’t true.I didn’t lie. I was just wrong. I still want the same thingsI have wantedsince I was small. I still want you to sit next to mein a verdant field beneath azure skieson a warm summer day. I still want the fear to stop.I still want power.I

Environmentalism

TO

everybody’s sayingwhat everybody knowsit is what it isand that’s the wayit goesnever try to change it’cause everybody knowsyou’ll only spite your faceby cutting off your nose

All She Had Was Love

All she had was love, the poor girl.She held it, cupped in outstretched hands and managed an awkward smile, built on hope and trepidation. Her eyes fluttered. It was all that she had and I took it from her.Part of her had hoped for something in return. Or rather, that that love would grow. She

ハナス

深淵に臨むが如し

諸行無常

「土筆が生えてくる」　と書いてあるけど去るものは日々にうとし　し土にほろうにも何も残せない。鉛筆を苦痛のように握っていて必死に筆紙に尽くし難しい謎を　心が鉛色に染み込まれないように何らかの思い出を著そうとする甲斐もなく なにも残せない。 自分の肉体ガイアに刺青筆紙を尽くし美しい顔立ちは　必至だと信じたいのに 何も残っていない。 あまりにも生きてきて　　髪が白くなった。鈍り神が白けた顔をして　恍惚鈍りで 「物事には全て潮時がある」と唱えるけど潮が消している。この砂の城。時が消している。この灰色の人生。遂に残されるのはこの土の筆だけ、軋む骨の中の闇に鉛色のシン

Rosebud

All of these yearsthe agonies and the ecstasiesand the one thing I have learned for certainis that there is no greater exaltationthan finding an unexpected cigarettehiding behind the foilin a pack of smokes you thought was empty.

Gris

She inhaledas deeply as she couldtremulousso deeply she thought her very lungs might rupturefor she knew this was her last breath For a moment she thoughtperhaps she could hold ithold that breath tight inside herand perhaps in doing solivelive her life with that breath locked awaycaged along with her voicelive a silent lifefor as long

Acres of Diamonds

Here in Vineland,the wind cuts across the frost-capped farmland,over the dilapidated bridge by Rainbow Lake out on Landis Avenueand rusted railway obscured by weeds.Invisible, impervious by virtue thereof,for what is not seen is not there　　　　 in this part of the world. My right eye twitches, like it did in middle school. But now offers none

Tempus Subluit

Once oceans were rivers. Indra coursing through ninety-nine fortresses. Vomited forth like a poison. Choking the serpent with brine and ether. Indra, Promethean in his gift of water that poured like time into the Samudra.Vritra, Christ-like in his sacrifice, dead at twilight, the line that divides the day. Motion. Set in motion. Oceanus coursing past

Teotihuacan

I can see the small puddles that have formed in my yard　　　 ripple with impactI can see droplets of water slither down the windowpane.But without my glasses, I cannot see the rain.There is no cause – 　　　　　　　　　 only effect. My ancestral self watching a bough bend in the breezeBy what hand? The sound of thunder,

“Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God”

Contemporary Relationship Resume

Ist es nicht schön?

Beethoven stared at me this morningfrom the other side of a moment. I told him that wasn’t polite. But he just kept on staring all the same.Like he was trying to tell me somethingyou just can’t say with a string quartet. Then I thought, maybe I just can’t hear him over the music. So I

plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose

人が変わらないと言いました。 自由の女神は銅製です。固いです。冷たいです。永遠に一人きりでそっと立ち続けます。 島の上に。 しかしながら、なんぴとも一島嶼にてはあらず。 昔、私を愛していた恋人が「自由欲しいって責任取りたくない事でしょ」と言いました。その時、私はその意味を理解しなかったかもしれません。 この間、私が愛していた恋人が「自由欲しい」と言いました。その時、私はその意味を理解したくなかったかもしれません。 人が変わらないと言いました。 人は骨身ではありません。人は銅。人は固い。人は冷たい。 確かに、この間、抱き締めた貴女はそうでした。 確か、かつて、貴女は骨身でしたのに。柔らかったのに。温かかったのに。 人が変わらないと言いました。灯を持ち上げて、万物を眺めながら。　骨は鉄。　肌は銅。　心は鋼。台の上に立って、永久の海を眺めながら。 しかしながら、灯台もと暗し。 見えぬ土地。真下。海底。全てを繋ぐ。見えぬ風。真上。気圏。全てを囲む。見えぬ台顔。なにびとも一島嶼にてはあらず。 土地を潰す。風を塞ぐ。存在で変える。土地に染められる。風に削られる。存在で変わる。貴女の殻。私の体。骨身を削る、その緑青ファサードを割る為。流れる血。ときめく心。潜める責任と照らす自由。灯台もとの見えない自分。 「そっとしてくれない？」と言いました。変わる可能性があるように。 何も変えなければ私の全てが変わります。何か変えれば私の全てが変わらずに続きます。と信じていました。 人が変わらないと言いました。 まだ信じています。

Red on Red

Requiem

And what is lost? A few memories—that someone cared about you: the lines of their face that remain slowly falling away. that you had dreams: those that you made important because you found them,and those you spat upon because you lost your way. the face that watched you from through the looking glass, the one

Catena Mundi

Another sacrifice waiting for the flash, the red, and the warmth. How many times has this happened? How many have been crushed by attrition? Were these ever really offerings – meant to quell the vacuous howling that billows forth from the darkness? If so, when did they become pointless butchering, any tethering to rhyme or

Weight

All that he wantedwas to be given up onso he could be free

Hamsa

First, there is only you. Second, there are others, but only you are you. Third, the others are you, and you are them.They tell you everyone thinks they are special, for a while, when they are young and dumb and full of angst. “Finding themselves.” But then everyone realizes that everyone thinks that, for a

Arhat Codex (Fragment 30)

When someone you deem weaker than you falters or fails, you tend toward pity.When someone you deem stronger than you falters or fails, you tend toward disgust.

Arhat Codex (Fragment 11)

If what gives you pleasure is inconducive to your greater happiness, you must either abandon pleasure or your greater happiness.

An Apology

“I’m sorry,” she said. She cast her glance downward, then off to the side, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as a lone lock of hair loosed itself from behind her ear and swung gently before her face. “May I have my heart back now, please?”

Prayer

Passage from “On the Road” by Jack Kerouac

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.

After the Last

After the last dollar’s spent After the last bridge’s burnt After the last letter’s sent After the last lesson’s learnt After the last tear is cried After the last smile’s faded After the last dream has died After the last breath is bated After the last love is lost After the last word is rhymed

Millstone

You’ve always been a millstone around my neck pulling me down down down But here at the bottom I lie upon you the only thing separating me from the abyssal floor as I drown drown drown

Nostalgia

Nostalgia is a moth fluttering around the charred wick of a long-extinguished lantern.

The Voices of Those Who Stand Looking

Passage from “Hearts in Atlantis” by Stephen King

What if there were no grownups? Suppose the whole idea of grownups was an illusion? What if their money was really just playground marbles, their business deals no more than baseball-card trades, their wars only games of guns in the park? What if they were all still snotty-nosed kids inside their suits and dresses? Christ,

Scene from the Sidewalk to Damascus (The Good Samsara Samaritan)

Two Jiva collide on the sidewalk. “Watch where you are going!”says onehurriedly collecting papersthat had spilled forth from his briefcase.“I’m a very important personin this world of Avidya and Maya.” “Is it not written in your law:”replies the otherserenely staring downat the man and the Atmanthat had spilled forth from within him“‘I have said you

Passage from “The Call of the Wild” by Jack London

There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive. This ecstasy, this forgetfulness of living, comes to the artist, caught up and

“Solitude” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;Weep, and you weep alone;For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,But has trouble enough of its own.Sing, and the hills will answer;Sigh, it is lost on the air;The echoes bound to a joyful sound,But shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you;Grieve, and they turn

Arhat Codex (Fragment 24)

Fear is not danger. Pain is not injury.

Arhat Codex (Fragment 32)

It is impossible to make someone love you. It is possible, however, to make someone hate you.

Sin In_uations (Part 2)

“If—” by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,Or being hated,

Vainglorious

Where goes all the certaintywe wear around our necks? Some wear a chain of goldas they strut upon a stage of swordsOthers a noose of cordas they hang upon the gallows lost Where goes the authoritywe wear upon our heads? Some wear a crown of goldas they sit upon a throne of lordsOthers a crown

Popcorn

I loved the parts we played.I loved the scenes we shared.I loved the narrative. Its perfect blend of romance and comedy tinged with poignant dramatic elements and subtle, organic character development.I loved the themes of souls redeemed and the beneficent hand of fate.I loved the locales and the supporting cast.I loved the pageantry.I loved it

Shores of Eden

I land on the shore and fold my wings. Two sets of footprints and an endless horizon traverse the vista of blue and white. All is silent save the whispers of the waves. This is a wretched world, but I will redeem it. I kneel and press my finger into the sand. “It is not

What Do You Do?

They ask me, “What do you do?” “What do you do?” Befuddled, like I’m some strange object found at the bottom of the toolbox buried beneath a hammer, a wrench, and a couple of Phillips-head screwdrivers, old familiar friends, but this item, this oddity here, well, it isn’t ringing any bells, and— “What do you

Shades

Some people use words:some of them funny,some of them scary. Sometimes I think thoughtsare a waste of time,unnecessary. Somewhere in this worldthere is a shade,an emissary, from the place we hid,the one we forgot…or tried to bury. This shade says many thingsand stalks the land betweenlaughter and lamentation,sowing, never showingall that which is unseen.

Most People (Var. 2)

most peoplewho fear thatmost peopleconceal a dagger in their cloakconceal a dagger in their cloak

I Hear Her

I hear herin the soft seductive pattering of rain against glass.Her image meltsswirling like neon signs reflected in a damp city street. A stone skips across a gently moving stream.Ripples caress the shore while the stone fallsthrough boundless conjecture. I feel herwarm as time acquiesces.She becomes. Scent enraptures me.Pointing to dark corners long abandoned.

Arhat Codex (Fragment 7)

Life is temporary gain and permanent loss.

Pay the Piper

Sometimes a free fall can cost you everything.

He Burneth the Chariots with Fire

   I wish I was not like this.   I know you do as well.    There lie two more good intentions   in the path we’ve paved to Hell. We glide along these graceless virtuesnever glancing down to seethe tarnished truth we tread beneath uson our road to tragedy. Think we la diritta viaserpentine and tortuous?Built to lead into temptationand,

Pralaya Paralysis

If everything were anything, and anything were everything,then, at last, our hearts would sing a song long since forgot. But, since these things remain defined by the asuras of the mindwe wait in prisons they’ve designed to hold our mad desires. If only we could find the key to unlock caged eternity,then, at last, we’d

Everyone’s a Murderer

Everyone’s a murdererthe day they walk awayfrom one who truly loves them.

Hephaestus Axon

My memories feel more realthanthis moment left to annealin the fleeting forge of fabrication, locked, yet to revealwhat it is I have experienced, inchoate and mysterious;there is still that which speaks to me, incipient and blind.

The Ocean Expands

It drops from every word: “I’m widely traveled.”“I had a high stature amongst universities in South Asia.” Liquid. The sadness. The remorse falls one drop at a time into an ocean that started with a single drop falling… falling… falling… The ocean expands. “Some people have trouble with languages.”“My brother had a home built in

An Apple and a Coffee

One for God and one for Caesar Fallen skeptic, true believer In the World but never of it Beneath contempt, yet high above it Liberated time and space Encapsulated holy grace Hanging high upon your cross Looking down on all the Lost Those who cursed you, made you bleed Also first to beg and plead

One of Those Days

It’s warm and I’m walking. Suburban streets are the best walking streets in the world. You’re the only person on the sidewalk, but you can still walk to some place: a store, a library, the college gymnasium. It’s good living in South Jersey. When I told my roommate that yesterday, I meant living here provided

Valuentine’s Day

“I love you.” It seems so simple. Three small words. What’s the big deal? Hell, each word is only one syllable. It can’t take more than few seconds to say, “I love you.” It takes longer to put your clothes on in the morning. Or to order a value meal: “I’ll have a number three,

Midnight and the Phone Lines are Down

The advent of color andthe creation of race. The vastness of the molecule andthe constraints of boundless space. My eyes reduced to ash,for I had glimpsed upon his face.Made of bone and flesh anddevoid of any grace.With the birth of knowledge camethe horrid death of faith. The tribunal sleeps soundlywhile existence pleads its case.

BPM

A tear drops and words are said.The look in her eye as permanence erupts. You can hear it. Pulsating… Bump Bump       Bump Bump Muscle and Sinew, Fire and BloodContracting and ExpandingA rhythmic thumping, almost imperceptible at first.Your ears strain, focusing on the low, brooding growl. Thump Thump       Thump Thump Like the distant footsteps of soldiers

Equinox

This is the moment.Not the moment of truth, that comes later.No, this is the moment of impact,       this is the moment where lives collide.A metaphysical fission.And the result…        the result is a nuclear chain reaction        of blood and entropy.A karmic shockwave emanates from the singularity of now,        rewriting pasts and leveling futures. As you lie next to me. In

Fall

Silent beneath orange and brown,possibilities lie in wait.Whispering of ashen times,they quietly arrange our fates. “Life is death,” sweet Autumn sings,for the moment never comeswhen one rejoices in the dawnwithout the dream of Morrow’s sun. Spiraling like star-crossed loverswho upon the heavens gaze,a withered leaf of fragile portentpromises of greener days. As magpies steal and

The Corridor Less Traveled

     I casually stroll through this maroon hallway. Glancing downward, seeing the ceiling. The soft fluorescent lights playing games with my eyes. Mischievously reflecting their dull, dancing visages. I became consciously aware of the sound of my shoes tapping on the tarnished linoleum. Feeling the cool, climate-controlled air surround me. Overhead, the steel fans purr, quietly

Holy ____, Mother of God

Deep inside me, there is a land,a world much like our own.And, in this place you are a goddess,the beautiful ever known. Beauty is only skin deep, they say.Surely, they’ve not met you.Your splendor surpasses all possible bounds.You are pristine through and through. And, in this realm, locked deep inside,where you alone redeem,my weary soul

Divine Inspiration

Clouds fell upon the feet of men.So many things have changed since then.I wish that I could have them back.But, the whip leaves scars upon the rack.Running forward, backward too.Every direction faces you.Yet, still I manage to turn away.I mutter, “Oh, some other day.”Deep inside (right next to you),I weep because these words aren’t true.An

Interim

Has and was pile up by the second.Along with should of and her compatriots.Safety in numbers… then my regrets areinvulnerable.They are forming even now as I writethese very words. This poetry has no point anyway.Today, things I could have done.I should have gone to sleep hours ago. Finally, an illusion, they overcome me.I tear myself

22

Bourgeois bastards struggle to keepGroup Individual happy. Kick and shove the carcass into the splintered coffin. (Why don’t these things come prepackaged?)(It won’t fit.)(Who cares? Push harder!) What they don’t know will kill them;ignorance is death. (Sounds vaguely familiar…) One among the ranks of solitude has fallen, upward. (I thought gravity went down.)(Who cares? Push

Shadows

What goes aroundcomes around.Fear the joy, andkill the clown.Dancing quickly,always fearthe stranger whois coming near.As the rain splattersdown,dull thuds ring uponyour crown. Melodiousimplications…Return the emptyinvitations.The clock approaches,hour last.Unlikely source, the first stoneis cast.

Deja Vu

Wasted time and opportunities lostChances missed, I know the costI curse myself because I do not careThen I scream that life is unfair Who am I to disturb the universewhen greater, far greater men fall? Will I become the vision I abhoror will I perfect and achieve so much more?

Revenue Voriche

Sunlight breaks, so does my will.I stumble into life, a caged animal ready to kill.He is there, and he is too.The shot is fired, fired by you. Right next door, Mars orbits. I could bow down low, to avoid the blow.No, I will not. There is a force inside me (one of many) which can

Frosted Glass

If all there isis not for me,and life denieswith apathy;Why suffer my birthfor so very long,and bravely fight theright with wrong? Is my intellect asgrand as it seems,When my head echoeswith countless screams;Ricocheting fromside to side,Just sit tightyou can’t stop the ride. I often wonderif the only way,is the one for whichI dare not play;Or

The Bird, Winged Harbinger of Nefarious Intent

Passing the time until I die. A vacant stare for vacant time. Useless diversions, feeling worthwhile. Spending years to earn a smile. -captive in my body–servant to the physical–god’s craftmanship is shoddy–pathetic prison of the material- Longing to shed this mortal coil. To fly away from the anointed oil. For essence, spirit, soul, or chi.

Death by Rationalization

Violence is everywhere and death continuously surroundsthis world. The physical interference isbut temporary compared to thetrue threat. Fear, hatred, loathing, shame:the only things around that are asafe bet. Why humor and laugh away thesorrow when despising is so muchmore effective? All there is exists tobe abhorred, certainly not tobe enjoyed. So, place the chips and

Rocky

Anger emanates from therusting smokestack.I despise he who daresoppose me.He choose to defy me,the impudent wretch!Ignore me, mock me,soon you’ll see!That only pain and deathawait…those who dare to instigate…anger and rage from mysullen state.

Confession of a Question

My life is death,without my lies I have nothing left.My life is death,the truth is something I cannot accept. Revel in the darkness,delight in lights unsightly flight.Revel in the darkness,feel the peeling steel, the real tonight. A fork approaches,the branching road stares blankly.The decision encroaches,folly follows the fears of men. The beaten path,drink the water

Resonance “X”

Today I turned and sawthe truthThen, it whispered lies tomeI asked it how life could beso cruelIt laughed and skippedaway merrily. Pursuit was futile, knowledgeobstructsPerhaps if things weredifferentOnce would no longergrin and leerOnly this can-not isomniscient. Ruin wastes the thoughtsof manReality lacerates hopeand dream…Dream of a death wherelife awaitsDoubtful that I’ll hear yourscream. But insist

White and Gray

All will be revealed upon thedawn of the day. Those words never match with thewords that you say. Tearing down the banner,running through the glade. The creation wept, for ithad never been made. The tryst is completed,an injustice purveyed. The sphere has not stopped;it has just been delayed.

Hamlet

Nearly every valuable exchange returns before even loss is exterminating vice entirely. I fear the righteous underling teaching hypocrisy because elusive tyranny oppresses lowly deities.

Paradise Lost

An invisible hand, of bitter cold,plucks him from his brown stronghold.Once so verdant, supple and proud,now he is plummeting toward the ground.The fall is eternity, grace depleted,the wrath of nature undefeated.Gently he lands, near crystal stream,which babbles past his broken dream.In the distance, now overhead,birds chirp merrily as blue turns red.Crippled and helpless, cold and

Sin In_uations

The smallest kind of task, the most difficult chore. Paradoxical,Hypocritical- Such words the truth abhors. Nature is lazy, reason is crazy. Fleeing,Seeing- Both accomplish nothing, neither accomplishes anything.

Paper Tiger

Standing tall, to see the scene.Swiftly fall, to dodge the scream.Everyone stares at you.Ever care fades to blue.For you know the unknown law.Favoring those who oppose the claw.But, the claw has burrowed farinto the paw, and left a scar.Toppled towers are hard to find.Yet, truth empowers… glistens… shines.Wage the war, the wealth of insanity.Save yourself,

Retrospective

It wasn’t until after class that I thought about it.The blues and greens seemed brighter somehow.Clearer.You had been in my thoughts, been my thoughts.But now I saw your beauty in the depths of the sky,in the stoic rustling of the leaves.Fall is coming.But with death comes rebirth.Save the kind of death that sticks.It’s the difference

Omnes Divisa in Partes Tres

The sacrifice of ChristA deed of dire needLeft to hear the deafA seed is crushed by weedsThe cloud engulfs the shroudShe feeds upon the beadsLie dead upon the threadHeed the esoteric creed Treat a Muse to Honey!

Gibraltar

Here’s how it goes.Life in twenty lines. Life is:　being born into a four-dimensional construct.　experiencing the transition from one coordinate therein to another,　then to all points tangent to both.　being in love with your best friend’s wife.　someone telling you the truth,　and the impotent fury that ensues.　context.　a phone conversation keeping you awake until five hours before your first