Ways to be: Cycles #3

I read a book on Zen Buddhism

by my favouritest author

and thought,

thinking, so hard

about the way

to get to thoughtless

to peace

to one

that I ran out of steps in my walk

I ran out of numbers in the day

 

I thought

 

Until my limbs turned cold,

I lay down

to rest

my soul in pieces

 

After hours, lying to myself,

alone, time

passing from one ear to another,

trying to lift an arm

or a heart

or searching for a better

way to be

While sipping milk out of a straw.

 

No white light,

Just the fall,

And no need to fight,

The silence.

 

Letting go of motivations,

for recovery

from the pace

of the marathon

To feel the seasons,

summer, autumn,

winter, spring,

 

Finding warmth again

I saw

the lotus flower

opening

Integrate

Find the pieces

of your heart

That make you more

than the sum of your

parts

 

The One Path

to Anything

Everything

is under the nose’

and makes us breathless

 

I’m called by surfaces

they sing me

songs of pleasure

 

I run and run

sometimes I listen

getting caught in the pleasure prison

 

Measurable length

and width

We’re in a prism

 

Becoming what we love and hate

Giving over to focus,

re-membering

to spirit

or geography

 

Awareness is the division

of the north and the south

away from here

 

Wanting Feeling

for the wear and tear

for the body

for the people hurt

for the people helped

typical of Humans

 

Caught in a net of shadows

unaware of the true nature

delusions of

self grandeur

dribbling

through the cracks of the fortress

 

Now breaking the fortress to let it in

Realising that

I was born in sin

The Drum: Cycles #2

 

Many one things learned in life

Trying to live in harmony

Over and Over

The Learning

became Learning about Learning

Until I Learned that the only advice is for one Learning

Repetition, yes,

but Learning

 

A factor of proportions so large is only true of a one who never did,

I skipped it.

Now I get it.

Don’t I?

 

One and final timing

Bam

or

Tap

or

Ting

And life’s discovered

Like the beat of a drum

 

You can write down the lyrics

But they aren’t music

Until one hears it

 

and

 

Listening is the toughest one

The hardest skin on the horse skin drum

With the lightest tap

Easier to get wrapped up in songs

Harder to learn to how to Drum
when

Drumming a Beat

is for you to listen,

When you do listen

is for I to see

Connections between melodies

 

For time to be

As meaningful as it can be

The rythm

Sometimes

Has as to run out.

 

 

– Ben

The Truth

I wander streets in the night, I do. I practice kung fu under the street lights at the end of a dark road at quarter to 2.

Sometimes I thought I had it all figured out.

Swivelling between knowing and unknowing the point of the universe and all of its problems.

It’s a feeling and it comes up deep from my balls and my gut, and my head opens as if it was the same as everything else all along.

Talking about it sometimes, people think I’ve gone crazy. I feel it never occurred to them that I’ve seen something that possibly they haven’t.

It’s true that it’s selfish, but I struggle to see where else I can start other than from the self.

Or maybe the cork popped up in the old brain and I’m now a walking liability.

I don’t know.

I think about words sometimes. Trying to figure out why and where from. My need for insecurity rearing its little nose.

Liability: The ability to lie.

Sometimes I feel like I want to die. It sinks quickly from the high of fullness, down to the low of lost.

I miss the old days that never were, and I miss the opportunity for a life in a fantasy kingdom imagined by writers in a writing room.

I sometimes feel like a ripple a pond. Sometimes I feel like a grain of sand at the bottom of an ocean.

The way the world is looking scares me and I don’t know what to do about it… Is it the feeling or the world?

I love myself, and I hate myself too.

And I get confused about who ‘myself’ is every day.

My back aches from the weary neglect of hours at gyms in the night. And the sweat of anxiety linger as scars to today.i

It’s easy to forget that there is nothing to lose in telling the truth.

-Ben

One and Other

Light and grounded

Floor and emptiness

More can be said of nothing and something

than each of one another

 

lengthen the short

to shorten the long

feelings knew all along

 

they swam in the waves given them

moulding paths and shapes

each moulding one another

until indistinguishable

 

The mind takes view

it carves out a separation

makes one into two and 3 into 4

 

fixing problems, creating more two’s

intervening

until too many to hold

all collapse into each other

 

Feeling need of one and other

 

the shapeless circle continues

not fighting a mind for knowing

for there is nothing to know

and no mind to know it.

 

-Ben