I get so ******
on my religious practices
that I have realized
that religion
really is
the ****** of the people
but it strikes me
that that's just
what I want
is some kind of natural ******
to make me enlightened.

I used to think
I was a miner
looking for something
   golden
in my head.
I was trapped.
Later,
I was rescued
by myself
with some help.
I breathe freely now.

So, the pity ***
is what
they call it,
when you are sitting
on the toilet
of despair,
feeling sorry for yourself,
but not just sorry,
but like you think
of suicide,
but you won't try that
because that's another thing
that you're just
no good at,
so you sit
thinking you are a pathetic loser
because you have lost
at everything you have ever tried,
and you call yourself that,
"...pathetic loser...",
and you think
that since you can't **** yourself,
the only other option
is to go back to drinking,
but the beer
that you just had
is probably the reason
you are sitting
on this ***,
so all is completely dark and bleak,
so bleak that it seems
to everyone
that it can't get any worse,
and that's when you receive
some terrible news
that makes everything more
desperate,
and you seem to know
that every day of your life
has been like this,
but here's the big finish
and the moral
to the story,
and that is
that your life
hasn't really been
that bad,
it's just that
while sitting on the pity ***,
you can't remember
the good parts.

The politics
seem like nothing
but fighting
about who gets what
when it seems
like everyone
should have enough.

The world
always seems
like two drunk men
   fighting.
I prefer to sit it out.

While shopping
for a pair of pants
the music
was playing
songs which I thought
were designed
to prevent
shoplifting.

There's a ghost
in this house
who is a woman
that is ugly
with claws for fingernails.
I think I brought her here
by accident
after thinking about
a past life.
She killed me
a long time ago
so she went
to hell
and now must
reside on Earth
before she can
find peace.
I don't mind ghosts
I think they're OK
but she freaks out
everybody else.
So I'll just wish her
Happy New Year
on this rainy night
and hope for the best.

The telephone
on my right
has a cord
hanging limply down
and it reminds me
of the fact
that no one calls
or writes
but I then remember
that less is sometimes better
and know
that I have many friends
out there
who seem invisible
but feel present.

In my sleep
last night,
someone was talking
to me,
I think,
so I woke up
with knowledge
about the right way
to wake up,
and it's so simple
that an idiot knows it,
but the world
and all the Great Religions
don't teach it,
so here it is -
wake up gradually.
Duh.
So I opened my eyes
and got out of bed
and sat for awhile
then moved slowly
for awhile
and then sped it up
a little at a time
until I was moving
at everyday life speed.
Duh.
That is the right way to wake up.
Now we're cookin'!

Sometimes
you feel like a nut
sometimes
you don't.

I was washing
my hair
in the bathroom
when the secret code
revealed itself
to me
that we are off
and on
at the same time
dead while alive
alive while dead
nothing/everything
everything/nothing
so I shaved.

Front

1. Work
2. Me
3. Cat
4. White Fire Santa
5. Pores

     Back

1. Red Bodhidharma
2. Mist
3. Zen Moon

I woke up
with the down energy
and I was miserable
so I got down
in the basement
with my five animal dance
which got me up
after I had been up
for awhile.

A friend once said that he never heard a sound that he didn't like.
Some people disagree.
I hear things.
Voices, dogs barking, and the sirens of emergency.
My friend was right about sound.
The pain bothers me.
Oh well, no pain, no gain!

When I was a kid,
my mother
was pouring milk
and she said to me,
"Say when"
and I had no idea
what she meant by that,
but as the milk rose,
I just said, "When",
and she stopped,
so this began
a lifetime
of not knowing
when to say when,
because there is no marker
about when to stop,
so after much work
and struggle,
I found out
that I can say stop
at any time,
and I think
the sooner, the better
for many things,
and I found out
that I don't have to say stop
to many other things,
so then
up comes the other aspect of mind
called the start mind,
and that's a whole different animal
altogether.

The war
between the lilies
and the Jack Daniels
is mounting
with death and life
in a struggle
and the lilies
are poisoning me
with beauty
as I drink
the Jack Daniels
to end in misery
so the struggle
continues.

Well, we all probably hear voices inside,
these days,
so here's a fun game
to play with your voices,
what you could do
is to talk to them
and listen to their answers,
and goof around with them,
and play with them,
and write down
what they say,
and stuff like that,
but just keep in mind
the simple idea
that they are not exactly real
and that what they say
is not exactly true
or not exactly false,
and have fun with them,
so then
you're not crazy,
you're just fooling around
having fun,
so try talking to Napolean
or Buddha or somebody like that
and have fun.
Amen!

After awhile
while studying Zen,
I began having visions
inside
of past lives,
or so I think
and these visions
are the same kind
of dreams
that I have
if I think back
a few hours ago,
so in this stage
I can get
extremely depressed
because the illusions
that I see
are so horrific,
like torture,
and being murdered,
and having my arms and legs
blown off,
but the cool thing
about this stage,
is that after the depression ends,
I feel much better
and relieved
that it's not happening
now.

A long time ago
I heard about
people who wash
their hands
about a thousand times a day
and can't help it
and can't stop it
so that freaked me out
and I decided unconsciously
to stop washing my hands
and then a long while after that
I thought that it was time
to wash my hands again
after hearing about its health benefits
so now I take care
to wash my hands
and I do it just enough
times a day.

History remembers
certain artists,
who many of us
know about,
and it considers them
the Great Heroes
of art, poetry and music,
but I think
that the true heroes
are the artists
who painted every day
for their entire lives,
and created
great works,
and yet,
had no shows,
and didn't get
into the museums,
and whose great work
was thrown away
at the end of their lives,
so that nothing
is remembered of these artist's work
at all,
and all of their names
are forgotten,
and the true heroes
of poetry
are the poets
who wrote every day
for their entire lives,
and never got published
and never got a book out,
and whose poetry
was ditched in the dumpster
at the end of their lives,
forgotten,
and the true heroes of music
played and practiced and wrote
for their entire lives,
every day,
for nobody
and nothing of their work
remains,
so this night,
I payed homage
to these true heroes,
and felt better
about art,
poetry,
and music.

Let's see
if I've got
anything in
here.
One place
for all of us.
This time
is none other
than space.
The turning moon
has spoken.

Us hippies and straights
from the baby boomer generation
grew up with two great television myths
which determined how
we turned out
and they are
"The Wizard Of Oz"
and
"Peter Pan"
and every year
as we grew up
they were the TV events
on Sunday night
so as we got older
we went to Oz
like on LSD and stuff
and realized
that we wanted to go back
to Kansas
but like Peter Pan
we didn't want to grow up
so we didn't
so here am I,
an old baby boomer,
back at his childhood home
in Kansas, Michigan
and I still refuse to grow up.
I wish I could fly.

There's a lot of news
these days
about the one percent
who have all the money
and the ninety nine percent
of us
who don't have much
of anything
so I got thinking
about how sad and unfortunate
it must be
to be the one percent
with stalkers and identity thieves
and the media attacks
and the hatred towards them
and how they have to protect themselves
in their fortresses
clinging to their fortunes
dreaming like Citizen Kane
of the happy times
in their chilhood, sledding,
when they were poor
while us ninety nine percent
who are the lucky ones
like me with my income of poverty
are greedy for a piece of them
so I even want a million dollars
even though I have enough
of everything
so I don't know if any of this
is true,
but think of a rich person
sitting on his toilet...
where is his money then?

After meeting
and eating dinner
with a Tibetan lama
I thought I was saved
but then a bit later
my whole life
collapsed
but it was fun
and I enjoyed
the experience
so I rebuilt my life
by sitting in a chair.

I have heard
some people say
that they feel
terrible
when they wake up
in the morning,
and I used to think
that I did too,
so I put
a little Zen spin
on it,
and realized
that the feeling
in the morning
is not terrible,
it is like
being on a lot of
hard-core street drugs,
and I feel
higher than
a kite,
so now,
in the morning,
when I am drinking
my coffee,
I feel ******
out of my gourd,
so that's much better,
don't you think?

He says that if I'm sad
to write a poem
and if I can't do that
to climb a mountain.

Sometimes the thoughts
push me furiously
but I love them anyway.

Sometimes the thoughts
bother me
but I love them anyway.

Mind is Buddha.
Buddha is empty.
All thinking bubbles up
from this emptiness.

I was thinking this morning
and it gave me a problem
so after many attempts
at right thinking
I came up
with the non-dual dharma of
neither thinking nor not thinking
and that seemed to help
but I know
that there is no dharma
of enlightenment
so that doesn't help
the thinking problem
or does it?

This art life
which I am living
has no success
and nothing happening
so I get depressed
when I think
I have no life
therefore I will turn it around
and remember
that there is no pressure on me
no need to hustle
no stress
I have absolute artistic freedom
so I'm grateful
to be a nobody artist
so there.

A pleasant conversation
with my woman friend
with occasional angry outbursts
from the Buddha who says no
with music always playing
and an old feeling
in the forehead
which I have grown to love
are all aspects
of the conscious mind
with an enormous silence
in the rest of it
that guides me
by not saying anything.

This room has a wicker plate with plastic flowers on the wall.
The new computer screen is bright.
Outside this room, it is raining.
This room smells like smoke.
The telephone has ***** fingerprints on it.
There is a long green desk in this room.
The lamp has an orange light bulb.
A piece of paper has numbers of the cycles per second of a circle of fifths.
There is a yellow ottoman with pillows and pieces of blank paper on it.
In this room, on the floor, are wires.
The altar has two orchids.
One orchid was for my dead father.
The other orchid is for my dead mother.
A funky fat Buddha sits close beside them.

There is
a congressman
in the United States
who has said
that America
has thought control satellites
in outer space
beaming down
thought rays
into our heads,
and I saw this
on the sports part
of the news, weather and sports,
and the sportscaster
laughed
and thought
that the congressman
was crazy,
but what
if he isn't crazy,
and that it is a real thing,
like the delusional crazy people
have known all along,
so, I would suggest
wearing a hat
with aluminum foil
in it,
to protect us
against unwanted
brain farts.

John Cage
didn't like improvisation,
but he was trying
to get out of his prison
that was caused
by his likes and dislikes,
so, I like improvisation
and I improvise
my life
every day,
so, the time arose
to write a poem
and I thought
that I would improvise,
but improvisation to me
doesn't mean
writing without a thought,
or
writing fast,
or
writing without care,
so,
improvisation is like
what I did in music
at a concert
in a church
a long time ago,
after my band and I
had practiced
for quite awhile,
and once we felt able
to put on a performance,
we did it.

When studying Zen
in Minneapolis,
the Roshi
referred to mind
as a monkey,
but later
in Ann Arbor,
Sunim
referred to mind
as Buddha,
so,
since I like monkeys
and think they are Buddhas, too,
I love the mind,
even if it can be
a pain in the ***, sometimes.

Someone with a mind
which is just starting something
has very many options
about how to proceed
and sometimes
they are trapped
because there are so many directions
to go
that they can't decide on any.
Someone with a mind
who has studied something
for a long time
has few options
about how to proceed
and sometimes
they are trapped
because there seems to be
only one way to go.
Someone with a mind
who is a master
has no options
I think
and therefore they can do anything
that they want or don't want
so they are not trapped
and they fly.

There seem to be
three gods these days,
the Good god,
the Bad god,
and the cool god,
and I have been
on the side
of the Good god,
which is the side
of religion,
and that is
the side
that cleans you up,
and that side
is all wrong,
so I have been
on the side
of the Bad god,
and that is
the side
that makes you a mess,
with drugs and *****
and bad ***,
so that is a side
which is all wrong,
but now,
for today
and I hope
for a long time,
I am on the side
of the cool god,
who is the guy
who teaches the people
to be kind
and not hurt anybody,
even though
his followers aren't religious
about it.

The first type
of thoughts
in my head
is music
which sings
like a heavenly
broken record
and the second type
of thoughts
in my head
is the arising mind
which seems like
the voice
of another being
and the third type
of thoughts
in my head
is the willed voice
which most think
is their self
and the trick
to mental health
is to love
all three
and allow them
to sing and speak
in balance and harmony
like a poem
with music.

I recently read
that Brautigan's last manuscipt
had small pieces
of his brain matter
stuck to the paper
which got there
after he blew his brains out,
and today
after I had written a poem,
I had an insight
into the mind
of Brautigan.
It made me cry.
Brautigan was a poet
who wrote tender, funny,
light poetry
which I always thought
had something
underneath it
which was deep and profound.
I found out
that a poet like Bruatigan
or me
had a deep
despair, anguish, depression,
suffering, and pain
which lay underneath
this light, funny poetry.
When he died,
I bought
as many books by him
as I could find
and laid them
on a table
and lit a candle.

I'm tired and sick.
There's no cause of it.
There's no cure for it.
I'm just tired and sick.

I feel like
an overcast Sunday
on this
overcast Sunday.

Crushing out
a cigarette
I have thoughts
of ashes
as I look
at the litter pile
of papers
underneath the ashtray
which have
valuable information
scribbled on them.

Creating can, at times, be
something that we like,
be stressful. If you're like
a poet on the floor, you'll,
you can find that working
is fun and funny and that
non-stop can all be a bit
like an all-nighter and
too much, or you may feel
manic and nuts, but you're
your creative juices have
become insane like some
run dry. When you feel
crazy, sit down and relax
like this. It's best not
to wind up in the hospital.

Growing up
in an American house
in the nineteen fifties,
sixties and seventies,
the cheese of choice
was Velveeta,
the processed cheese-type food,
and we cut it
with a cheese slicer,
which was a thing
with a handle
and a wire
and a roller,
and my mother
would make us
grilled cheese sandwiches,
which she called
cheese toastwiches,
and the molten goo
would spill out
unto the plate
as we were eating one,
and this traditional cheese
seemed to start
in the days
of the little red metal pedal car
and end in the days
of being drunk and high
at two in the morning
watching Eddie Constantine movies,
and so the cheese
has changed
and it is now
mozzarella.

was in a sound
like gunfire &
apparently was
something that
approximated a
fireworks show
when, while he
was meditating
one person was
talking, about
ice cream, and
that was over,
because it was
an earlier          event
when pineapple
is recollected
as bittersweet
rings in sugar
sentiment in a
glass bowl who
was stored, in
this morning &
before, in the
cupboard & at    that
time, the dish
which is daily
and ordinary        was
praised for an
acquaintance           so
very familiar.

Questions move energy and
answers come popping into
without the movement of
the brain, which stays in
energy. There can be no
perfect question or answer
change. Every day she would
think up questions such as
the answers that popped
these. What is it you
are or something? So,
want me to know? How
can make a difference?
Then she would think.

So I sit
in a chair
and sing quietly
a dharani
(spiritual song)
inside
myself
and tap my thumbs
against my index fingers
to the rhythm
and move my toes
up and down
to the rhythm
and breathe in
and breathe out
to the rhythm
and open my eyes
and close my eyes
to the rhythm
and close my mouth
when I breathe in
and open my mouth
when I breathe out
to the rhythm
and put my tongue
behind my front teeth
when I breathe in
and put my tongue
behind my lower teeth
when I breathe out
and gradually
slow it down
and I know
that it's difficult
but give it a try
and see what you think.

I watched a documentary on Buddhism.
The show talked about a little girl.
She was upset that Buddha didn't tell her about where she would be reborn.
Buddha told her that she should be concerned with how to eliminate her suffering in the present moment.
I thought that my problem was that I was overly complicating my religion.
It occured to me that my religion should be about making me feel better.
I feel better now.

I come from a past
of relentless suffering
that is a place
called Samsara
which is none other
than life,
so now I reside
in a place
that is a paradise
called Nirvana
which is none other
than life,
and the difference
is a simple understanding
which depends on how you look
at life
but in order to get here
I needed much work
at self-imposed brain-washing
or should I say
Mind-Cleansing.

I had thoughts today
that probably many people
are taking LSD
everyday
like others take multivitamins
and that this could be doing
something very odd
to all of our minds.

So there are
heterosexuals
and there are
homosexuals
and there are
bisexuals
and even
metrosexuals,
but I am
unisexual,
so I married myself
quite awhile ago
and me and me
have been having
a wonderful love life
ever since,
so I don't *******
very often,
and I hardly ever
*******,
so what I do
is to visualize ***
with myself,
who is a beautiful woman
inside
and who are four beautiful men
floating around me,
and then there is
this kind of around the world ***
that is a massive kundalinigasm
which is like a trip
to Mars,
so unisexuality
is my *** of choice,
but as you probably have guessed,
it's not for everyone.