Monday, May 23, 2011

Sunshine Poem April 2011

Sky so white
It sears the volume from everything it touches
Rendering the entire landscape below
 into paper whisperings.
My body, included,
Fades into smoke
Rising like a thin plume.
Squinting
Even closing my eyes cannot keep out the white hot light of the true nature of Being.
It pierces everything
If I let it.
Facing forward and unwavering,
Standing over a pile of my bare bones picked clean by time,
I am a disembodied wing flying into a shadowless light.
The guru calls to me.
"I am here.
Always was
Always will be."
Hello sunshine!

Monday, April 25, 2011

I am tired of hearing people I admire advocate for violence, suggesting it "frees people from oppression" or benefits our tactical National Interests. I am not naive enough to say we don't have energy consumption needs, but I am also not naive enough to believe that we cannot change our course if we wanted to, if our representatives wanted to... If we could get over our unnatural fears that something is going to happen if we changed our focus to exporting constructive aid rather than weapons and violence against innocents and the "Other" we might have a chance to actually benefit beings in this world. But the way our country is going without viable imaginative leadership, we benefit almost no one, and actually harm more people than anyone is prepared to accept.

I remember my teacher, Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche, saying to us to not forget to include ourselves in our prayers to enlighten all sentient beings. We must take care of ourselves as well so we're strong enough to continue our work to help others.

This concept is what is missing from the conversation about war and it's expense on our country and others. We have wholly expended our resources and morality abroad, and there's little left to resurrect this nation from such wholesale loss. I am a believer that this world of ours will change, but I suffer thinking about the terrible hardship ahead of us in this country before any awakening insight will manifest in our people and their leaders.

Why isn't it polled accordingly?
"Would you rather drop 250 $1.4million tomahawk missiles on Libyans or relieve 55,000 seniors from paying more in Medicaid/medicare costs?" Because that's what could be payed for in 3 weeks of fighting in Libya just with Tomahawk missile use.
How about this?
"Would you rather spend $8 trillion over the next ten years on Pentagon spending or eliminate all tax increases for ten years, plus guaranteeing solvency of social security, medicaid and Medicare, and complete energy independence from middle east oil?" Because that's what could be achieved with ten years of Pentagon spending on war abroad.

This is what's wrong with the contemporary conversations of today. There is never a rational talk of reasonable relationship between military spending and national interest in our people's welfare.

I take seniors over tomahawk missiles. I take energy independence over war in the middle east. I prefer education and foreign aid rather than war, weapons profits, and bankruptcy...How about you?

Friday, April 22, 2011

"Masters Of War" Lyrics by the Great Bob Dylan

 "Masters Of War" Lyrics by the Great Bob Dylan

Come you masters of war
You that build the big guns
You that build the death planes
You that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks.

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly.

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain.

You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion'
As young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud.

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins.

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
That even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do.

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul.

And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand over your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Good Intentions( a first draft)


Good Intentions

Conventionally, good intentions are understood to be Good. We as individuals and as communities and societies exercise good intentions all the time, but as we’re seeing again and again in this contemporary world of endless distraction with connection (yes, I am blogging this…) how we deal with all the cries and crises of need and stories of war and discontent from all corners of the world demands greater and greater scrutiny. 

We all want to give to so many, and so many of us do individually and as a society. There are obvious conditions by which we should understand our “ethical and moral responsibility” to be engaged locally and internationally, but I am going to attempt to argue for and against certain kinds of engagement that do and do not make sense to me or for the people we have good intentions towards.

Fundamentally, no matter what our good intentions are, no matter how full hearted the activity, there are after-affects to our actions. I give money to a beggar here on the streets of New York, wishing him well, a good meal, something, and later that afternoon he’s bobbing and sinking into oblivion on heroin or whatever. Maybe that high is a good thing, or it most likely isn’t; but it is strikingly NOT what I intended for the man. We encounter this culture of misunderstood intention all the time in our daily lives whether we’re really noticing it or not. We cannot expect good intentions to be received constructively as we would wish. My issue is with intention is always how much damage am I likely doing with the effort I’m trying to make. I’m not going to argue against good-hearted intention entirely, just some.

I think war is the most obvious good intended societal mistake we make all the time.  We buy into the concept that responding to another’s threat to our national interest in oil or other natural resources with violence is a reasonable good intention for the benefit of our fellows. We will kill anyone in the name of our “national interest” which is postured every time as Good. There is very little consideration of the opponent as having their own personal societal intentions for the benefit of their fellows. In fact, we completely alienate our opponents from our minds and hearts in order to make the pulling of the trigger easier. If we were to think of the lives lost in a meaningful way we would be struck with hesitation. This hesitation is meaningful and could be a guide for alternative intention.

I imagine all the time what the world would have looked like had we responded creatively to September 11th’s attack on the World Trade Center instead of with war. War is misconstrued as good intention. It is idealized as honorable when in fact the only honor is in the individual soldier’s misplaced belief in that ideal, so much so that he or she stakes their life in defense of that belief. In itself, giving one’s life for another is the most selfless act, but we must lament the misguidance and abuse of so much of that selfless activity for the benefit of so few. Some 2300 people died in the attacks, and close to or more than a million people were killed in their names. And the resulting chaos of living beings all over the Middle East is incalculable because of our good intentions  .We HAVE to look at war in this way primarily to understand the bastardization and abuse of the concept of Good Intention. We have enlightened no one with this activity. There is more discrimination, hatred, misunderstanding, and poverty of spirit and coin since September 11th entirely because of our Good Intention to respond with war as a reaction to the tragic loss of American lives. A million alternative responses could have been made to improve the lives here, there, and everywhere. Some of them might certainly have created suffering for others, because inevitably all good intentions leave something and somebody out. But I believe strongly almost nothing could have created more suffering than the choices we make and continue to make when we use the Good Intention of War. Iraq is no better off. Afghanistan is no better off. Libya will be no better off now that we’re bombing. America is far worse off than ever. Good intentions ruining the present day.


I feel differently about some Natural Disaster relief as a sign of Good Intention. Of course, relief when someone, when a nation like Japan or Indonesia, or Pakistan, or Chile, or New Orleans, is struck down by a wave or an earthquake, and we see the suffering and untold death of so many, if we can help with money or service….well, I think that’s terrifically good. We don’t know all the ways the money is being used, but we really have to have faith that every little bit helps provide service to the suffering, suffering, disoriented, displaced, people.

On the other hand, I know a lot of people will disagree with me, but if we had more faith in impermanence we certainly wouldn’t allow our fellows to rebuild nuclear plants on or near fault lines, rebuild houses next to volcanoes, or along the ocean, after being squashed or burned or swept away by tidal waves. We think as a society that we should replace what was lost, but that is a misplaced Good Intention. Here in America every year the same houses along the Georgia coast and florida get hit by hurricanes. Who let them rebuild there? New Orleans has been partly rebuilt without any viable infrastructure to prevent flooding from happening again. Why rebuild there in that way? Good Intentions. Many will say “that’s their home.” And I would say with good intention, “you can’t live there anymore. It’s just too dangerous dear friends.” Both Intentions are harmful. The first, and more common reaction to Natural Disaster Loss of property and belonging is to rebuild in exactly the same place. Again and again we see the failure of insight. Not just the individuals suffer if the buildings fall or burn or wash away again. These are communal losses. In my scenario, individuals would suffer with displacement, but the loss of lives, revenue, and suffering would be far less if the quakes, volcanoes, and Tsunamis happen again with no one living in those danger zones. But that will, guaranteed, not happen. We will help the Japanese rebuild along the ocean and beside the fault lines and inevitably we will look up to the heavens stupidly when it happens again. I pray not soon.

Spiritual Good Intentions are also chock full of problems. The desire to bring spiritual Liberation to beings is such a moving and glowing intention, but as is almost always the case, most people are ill-suited, not realized practitioners, to carry this off. As a result, most efforts manipulate people's hearts and minds wrongly, and they disorient them as a result and misrepresent the teachings of great masters, such as the Buddha Siddhartha, Jesus, Mohammad, or Moses all the time. We can see the fruits of their poorly designed good intentions throughout history in the people and cultures they have touched. 

Tibetan Buddhists are always touted as compassionate, peace-loving, but even different schools due to ignorance created violence towards one another in the past thinking themselves more special. Tribal distinctions past from generation to generation maybe led to this as well... The Christians and their history is littered with violence and cruelty engendered by misunderstanding and ignorance, and these actions (so innumerable to mention, but the Inquisition and the whole history of Colonization will do as an example) did little or nothing to perpetuate the real teachings of Christ. The Muslims, too, so readily and rightfully blamed for their violent inclinations and misunderstood and ignorant commitments to the Koran cut their opponents and destroy in the name of Holy Good Intention. This kind of violence is a total bastardization of the scriptures. There's no Heaven for anyone in these activities.

Nothing could reap less than these acts of violence to perpetuate serenity in the hearts of men and women, and fundamentally violence in the name of Good Intention distances beings from their True God and Buddha Nature, doing the exact opposite of what was intended.

Israel is the same in the name of Good Intention. It's policies and intentions have led to the alienation of themselves from the world and misguides it's supporters who whole-heartedly wish for the well-being of Jews in the world into creating weapons and selling them to perpetuate violence and hatred which pulls Jews and non-Jews further and further from morality and human ethic. 

Our President and Representatives claim to protect our Nation's Interests, but their ignorance and misunderstanding of the nature and dimension of Good Intentions leads this country to the brink of wholesale moral and ethical and economic bankruptcy. In the name of National Interest we are at War in three countries spending money we don't have, trying to secure leverage to protect our control of oil in the region, and to protect our people from some unknown threat of nuclear holocaust that currently does not exist. As a result, we are trillions of dollars in debt, incapable of viable reinvestment of money in clean energy opportunity that might really extricate us out of the Middle East, ruining our chances of viable investment in education for our youth who lag behind every meaningful industrialized nation's population, ruining our ability to bring peace of mind to the sick, poor and elderly because we're spending too much defending our national interest abroad,....the list goes on and on. and we see it again in the discussions of Deficit reduction. Instead of intelligently and imaginatively cutting military spending which literally doubles the cost of all other national expense we talk about cutting into entitlements for seniors and investment in new energy technology, cutting into arts education, etc etc... This is truly Idiotic.

I am a broken record... 
Let us make Good Intentions count by refusing all kinds of violence, by refusing to accept short term thinking...let us embrace the nature of Impermanence. Let us have faith in the hearts and goodness of the Other. Let us support those ideas that constructively benefit the most people without violently hurting others or the earth and it's precious non-human beings. If we can't do these things, better to do nothing at all.





a little poem 4/19/11 (inspired by a gift from a dear friend and the Spring's circumstances)

A pencil writing the first word of a poem
(and the last word of a poem)
is like the spring shoots pushing through the soil and stone,
cutting through the leafy detritus of winter...
Each letter spun
stirs a curling green momentum to some unknown becoming.
Each space between words
breathes the resonant promise of fruit and flower...
The writer sows on page what no gardener can cultivate in the most fertile ground
and tends the spindly sprung tendrils
to become the perfect harvest.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

PRECIOUS ONE



PRECIOUS ONE
I am a bear in the forest
I am a bird taking flight
I am a bee in a red flower
I am a word on the page
I am a falling leaf from a maple tree
The tree itself
I am the stormy sea
I am a dog by your side
I am a cat in the window
I am a squid from the deep with a big eye
I am all that
I am the stars that shine in space
The memory of a precious face
I am an ant among many
I am a snake in the grass
I am a Lion on green hill
I am an earthquake
I am the tears coming from your eyes
The pink from the setting sun in the sky
I am a painted elephant
I am a wolf seen in the distance
I am a deer in your backyard
I am the proof
I am the whisper of something more
The awareness of an open door
And so much more
I am the sun
I am the moon
I am the stillness in a room
I am the wind at your back
I am the Spring
The green shoots from the branches in the trees
I am the sparkle on the river
I am the pearl in the oyster’s mouth
I am the oyster
And the knife
I am your husband
and I am your wife
I am your daughter
I am your son
I am a field of summer flowers
I am also your gun
I am the blood you see in the dead
The ache in your head
The last breath
The sun in your eyes
I am the space between raindrops
And the quiet in your mind
I am all the distraction of this world
I am the unspoken and confidence shared between friends
I am the textures in your head
And the ground beneath the feet
I am Siddhartha’s begging bowl
And Padmasambhava’s Tiger
I am Jesus’s cross
I am the cow on a New Delhi street
All of this I am for you
With all my heart I change my form so your mind might illuminate the world some more!

Friday, March 11, 2011

THE TIP OF HER MIND


THE TIP OF HER MIND
Floating.
The distance to the bottom of the ocean seems equidistant to the top of the sky.
She knows
In her head
The sky reaches beyond the blue,
Even past the night stars.
She closes her eyes feeling the density of the world surrounding her,
Slightly pulling at her.
She arks her body
Raising her sternum to stay afloat
Just to the surface of the great sea.
A deep breath sucking in the sweet sky and the sun
Also reminds her of her place, her location,
Floating
in some seasonal tide
that moves from one named place
to another named place
All land masses too far to see
“Too far to swim…..”
She thinks “I am the land, my body the shore, moved by the tide, whittling me down,
And building me up again!”
And it was so.

She breathes in the days and the nights
Floating
in and out of dream and waking
Sustained only by the fullness of the quiet.

After awhile the little nibbles from below don’t distract her
Her equilibrium becomes skillful in the roughest storm and the largest waves.
She happily sips from the rain
And feeds on the sunshine while trying to look squarely into it’s radiance for as long as she can…smiling…
White light fills her eyes, bright rose under her lids,
“The color of my beating heart…” she murmurs to herself.

She imagines her heart surrounded by a golden crown rising high on towering stems.
Emerald green shoots, rooted to the center of the earth,
hurtle her beating heart towards the sky,
to the edge of the atmosphere,
into the ether.
And the cold of space doesn’t bother her blood rose heart nor her vehicle…
And the green leaves intertwining her heart,
the One she sees under her eyelids enveloped by a golden crown,
turn into wings
with red,
blood red,
tips.
And she sees herself with the moon and the stars in her hair, white light in her eyes.
And she sees herself with each end of the never-ending universe in the palms of her hands and her legs open with the center of the earth…
a fiery hot orb below
floating
in the inky blackness of a vast ocean with no horizon.
“I have reached the shore” she whispers.
And her lips never move.
There is no weight in her limbs,
no sky to breathe,
and just a slight warmth on the tip of her mind.

Monday, February 21, 2011

The Knicks- a little bit of love from a fan

A long time ago my father told me when it was clear that I'd be an artist and engaging the world on the esoteric fringe that I could engage common conversation in the world with almost anyone if I chose a sport and a team to follow. He suggested I read the NYTimes every day, follow that team, it's articles and box scores, and, if I did this, I'd be able to feel connected, not so alienated from everyone.... Well, I took his advice in the 80's and I chose the New York Knicks. I love the Knicks. I came in as a fan at the time of a when the Knicks were a rugged, warrior-like team led by Patrick Ewing, a giant among large men, who defended the basket as if his life depended on it. He and his fellow forwards, Charles Oakley and Anthony Mason, would grind opposing teams down, hammering them to the hardwood if they dared lift towards the orange disc to score. it was an amazing time with formidable opponents that took our breath away. Jordan and the Bulls crushed us season after season, but the games were worth the failure. the fight was epic, and one never felt that we couldn't have tasted victory if the Greek God Michael Jordan weren't so elevated.
After some time Ewing grew old and his cohorts also failed a bit. The culture of winning remained for some time, but we didn't have the "Heart" on the team required to carry it into the future. A few good players served our desire for success for awhile, Houston, Sprewell, Larry Johnson,  Chris Childs and Charlie Ward...They offered some exciting rivalry to Miami and Indiana, but they were not able to merit more than a couple seasons of hope. As a fan I never faltered, my heart lifted with every drive to the hole, and I prayed like everyone that Allan Houston would step up and be the cold-hearted killer we thought he had the talent to be...He had a few great moments, "the shot" in Miami and all, but...

For ten years I have suffered watching the formerly great point guard for the historic champion Detroit Pistons, Isaiah Thomas, become the worst GM and coach ever. He destroyed the Knicks and the culture of warrior-players through one mishap after the other. He sacrificed Heart for Flash that later became "flash in the pan"...we watched our team diminish into a laughing stock....

With him gone these past few years, the fog has lifted. We have Donnie Walsh as a GM, and he brought the team out of financial crisis and simultaneously has created with the help of Coach Dantoni a team of winners. They are not defenders like the past. And quite honestly, those warriors don't exist anymore in the NBA much any way... But they could defend a whole lot better...But they Play, and they play hard. They score hard and relentlessly, and their expertise in scoring is sharp compared to most. They are led by Amare stoudemire, a young 6foot 10inch forward who literally can score at will against anyone in the league. He is not massive but he is swifter and has that "HEart" I was referring to earlier...he wants to win, to crush his opponents under the weight of his talent. Love to see the players beside him, young players, Landry Field (the rookie), danilo Gallinari, and Raymond Felton his stout pick and roll partner, try to emulate that heart, that winning culture. They are talented, but may not be all they need to be. Ewing suffered a great deal because he never had a great enough partner to help him carry the weight of taking it all the way. Jordan had Pippen, Shaq had Kobe and Visaversa...Robinson had Duncan, etc etc...Does Stoudemire need another? I think that he may, and there;s talk about getting Brooklyn Native Carmelo Anthony, another scoring Giant. He also doesn't defend well, maybe even less than Stoudemire, but he is a sharp sword, and unmatched in Ego and showmanship, which is helpful for a winner sometimes.....If Stoudemire can be the sober leader to take them hard towards the goal with Landry Fields and MELO as a wing man slicing and dicing opponents we might have a chance for some real fun in the future!!!
LBxoxoKNICKS

Monday, February 14, 2011

"I wave in my seat like a leaf on a tree."

I wave in my seat like a leaf on a tree
I imagine the hair on the Guru's head doing the same
It's black like the deepest night sky
And the stars of his mind shine brightly in everything their light touches
In a hot room where the stillness seems like a wet blanket
My mind sweeps about like a leaf on a tree
I see the guru's image in a photograph
And his face glows in the dim light of an antique crystal lamp appearing to shift from smile to seriousness to a an open gaze of spaciousness again and again and again
As the clock ticks my mind swings like a leaf on a tree
It appears The world moves underneath me
Like the clouds float up above me
Like the river flows beside me
Like the words from this poem come out of me
Like the guru's mind enters in me and the way light dissolves me radiating out as if I were never there

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Blessing

As the icy wind blows off my Hudson River on 26th street and forces my chin into my clavicle, the bright silvery light of the sun rises above the public housing rooftops and cuts through my eyelashes infusing my mind.
I am full of light for the moment.
My steps forward blind, and my ears and nostrils open to the cold air.
Where am I? The concept of 26th street, my homeland, the artifice of landmark and my place, are dissolved by the morning light.
Instinctively, I lower my head, turning three quarters to the sun, and I see shadows of employees of unnamed jobs tucked in their dark winter clothes move towards me on their way to work.
A new dawn of becoming emerges.
Back in my body, I gingerly face the sun again,
gently hoping to disappear again
into it's light for another moment,
but I've taken too many steps forward and a street sign and the edge of a building are ever so slightly making the brightness obscured.
No dissolve except as a memory.
With soft sadness I write this down.
But I will dissolve another day.