Tag: derangement of the senses

Politics and Visionary Poetry


Political Poem



as tho there is

any reality

to politics

that can be

grasped ever,

ever,  never,

it is smoke,

it is elaborate

costume of

deception created

to capture

our attention

in spiderweb of power

enchanting us to believe

there is separation

between ourselves and each other

and the sky and the earth.

politics cannot contain

our fierce fire,

our fresh air,

our loving waters,

our humble earth,

our limitless space

with no boundaries

never boundaries

always free

always liberation.

Old tales

are helpful,

stories of humanity

from every corner

of the world

leading to the roots,

waiting for us,

waiting to feed us,

to welcome us home.

I’m Too Sexy for My Blog

As my blogging goes through a weird and wild transformation, I have found myself attracted to many seemingly unrelated phenomena.

I found a Buddhist site that I have both attraction and aversion towards.  I’m not sure about the fellow who writes the blog, but he does have a great blogroll (if you’re into the Tibetan Buddhist lineages) and reprints some of the most treasured Tibetan Buddhist texts which were translated at great expense of time and money, not to mention the daring and courageous activities of those teachers who fled Tibet starting in the 1950s who were determined to help spread this 2,500 year old philosophy to the west (an amazing story in itself).

Anyway, that’s neither here nor there, except I found this picture and post so adorable:

Baby, It’s Cold Outside


Winter is definitely here, everybody is making plans for the holidays, and the hearth is merry. But, what of the little stinkers? Do they just magically cope with freezing temperatures?

Now is the time to pay special attention to setting out food and water for the small creatures of the fields and air. This is their most difficult time of year, when they must fight for survival.

It doesn’t take much to begin the habit of tossing a couple of extra bags of seed on the cart when you’re in the supermarket. What can it cost? Ten or fifteen dollars? Stop buying the National Enquirer, back off the booze, and the Viagra, and you could feed a whole zoo.

String Around the Spiritual Finger

If you are expecting anything normal, please skip to the next essay … oh wait, this is Docudharma, scourge of the intertron!


String Around the Spiritual Finger

If compassion were

a person standing before me

or an animal, a tree,

or a chair or even a computer

or an I-pod,

I would bow before her, him, it

with some real confidence.


So write something

to effect you are not pure

but covered with slung shit,

encrusted, all sorts of gross images

till it can be seen, felt,

smelt, tasted, heard.


Then a shift of vision

to the lotus which grows

from that very exact same shit

and the vision I had a thousand

lifetimes ago about being

mired in that vile manure but

of my own free will

looking directly up at the

White Tara deity,

embodiment of compassion

from that foul pool

of obscuration and hopelessness,

and willingly feeling

I was contributing

to that compassion,


looking miraculously

upward, it was

no different than

standing in midtown

or wall street

walking down the street

never even thinking to

look up and then

you look up

and everything is

entirely different,

your view has


a crazy thing!

so understand

and remember:


to Tara is

homage to


1/22/09 – I didn’t have anything to blog about, but I wanted to drop in and make my dharmaniac mark for this is what I’m up to lately and what’s on me mind