A giant red cat
is stuffed inside
someone's garage,
and the great beast's tail
is wagging outside.
The little girl
says that she forgot
how large the cat was.
This was the television reality
awhile ago.

Telepathy is real if
you are in a mood. In a
mood telepath, the doctor
sees you. You go drunk. I
visited the dead boy. He
was a lost uncle and
stuffed. Another one.
One busted a lit dumb.
Around and up to sky
wizardry. The sword
plugged a ripple. Any
time smock was on
was there. So, we got
mustard toes on ick.

The face is downcast
but the spirit is cooled
when summer cars down.

Seeds on the window
that opens to voices down
on the ground being.

Uncomfortable
when he sine waves the puddles
on his circle home.

At the Buddha's birthday celebration,
I held my plateful of food
and sat down
at a table
with an odd man,
who said he was an engineer,
and that he
was looking around
for chicks,
so the Zen priest
pointed out
that he had
an enormous pile
of food
on two plates
in front of him,
and then
a young woman
sat down
at our table,
and he proceeded
to hit on her
by trying to impress her
with his intelligence,
and I wondered
if she might have been thinking,
"Who's this *******?",
but I kept my mouth shut.

Waking up
at ten o'clock at night
I start my fourteen hour morning
depressed and not wanting
to do anything
so I remember
the Zen master's New Year's message
in which he says
"When you're tired and disappointed,
Write a poem."
so here I am.

I had an enlightenment
today
about life
that I want
to share with you,
and I felt like
I got a good answer,
so here it is -
life is walking
in circles
over and over
day and night
and most people
get tired of it
and sick of it,
but I decided
that walking in circles
is great!
and that it's nothing
and that it's a piece of cake,
and I even thought
that I can walk
in circles
for eternity
because it really is fun
and I love it,
so that was my enlightenment
and I hope you like it
as much as I did.

"Practice
a deep, warm flowing
give and take
of the radiation
to the exclusion
of all"
is a dharma
which has been growing
inside of me
for a few days
that I am ready
to file away
so I am giving
it to you
in the hope
that it helps.

So I'm sitting here
in my space
and it really is space,
outer space,
and if I listen to it,
it sounds
like the spaceship
which it is,
and since
I have unplugged
the television
and turned off
the radio,
I can hear
the unusual sounds
of this unearthly, earthly spaceship
humming,
and when I listen closely
I can hear
the hum and high-pitched hiss
of my brain
and nervous system,
as I go traveling outward
into the vastness
of the universe
in this spaceship
called my house
in the suburbs.

I come to this blank screen
without any conscious knowledge
about how to write this,
but I have
a sneaking feeling
that I already do know
exactly what to do,
and it's like meditation,
when you start
to meditate,
even if you've done it
a million times,
I always get the notion
that I don't know how
to do it,
but then I go ahead
and do it,
so this poetry racket
is the same thing,
I just sit here
and write it
even though I don't know how,
because actually
I do,
or maybe I don't,
you decide.

Mind/body energy should
not have an outflow
and should not have
an inflow, if we are to maintain
our peace of mind,
but we must breathe
and we must think
most of the time,
so care is needed
to make sure that our energies
do not create trouble.

The grey October day
shows me a tree
outside my window
which holds golden-brown leaves
and towering spires
of white leaves
(or so it seems)
that I have never seen
before
and the left hand
is steady and still
with first and middle fingers
on one side
of my notebook
and the left thumb on top
as the right hand fingers
move along quickly
across this lined page.

I lit incense
and a candle
and chanted a prayer
for my dead father.

Now, let's not lose our heads,
but what if
the government
along with a team
of psychiatrists
and computer specialists
and even military men
were watching us
with the new communication technology
that we now have,
in our homes,
and they were doing
mind control experiments,
like behavioral tests
and tests of our minds,
by using subliminal messages
and watching our reactions,
much like what was done
to terrorists who were in prison,
because they were trying
to determine
if we were dangerous
or if we were sane,
of course,
it would drive us
insane,
so they would conclude
that we were insane
and delusional,
so, let's not lose our heads,
but what if
there was also
a program
of mind altering
weapons
which were being fired at us
from satellites in space
and from anywhere
that they had them,
like was done
in the Iraq war,
and the reason
that they are doing it
is to silence our minds
so that we don't think
and just accept
the subliminal messages.
Well, this is an interesting idea
and I hope you don't panic,
and it could be happening
24 7
but let's not lose
our heads.

What I love
the most in the world
is packaging
like how the fine companies
who sell us
their product
protect us from evil bacteria
and how the icing
from Toaster Strudels
comes out of the plastic
in neat little lines
and also
what I love
the most in the world
is signage
like how do you know
where you are
without the signage?

My father was mowing the lawn.
He called me over and asked,
"Where's your brother?",
I replied, "I don know",
He said back, sharply,
"Use your mind!",
so I thought in my head
about it, and he went,
"Ack, go find him!".
As I was walking away,
I thought, "Use your mind?
I wonder what that means?"

If I were named Violet,
would I still smell as much?
If my name was Phil,
would I stink so sweet?
I am the poet, Herbert, or
Isit? My real false name
Isearl. Of course, not.
My real name is
then tooth bone foodair
soaked tin watch Bag-O-Soul
outin now.
I could change names
if I wanted to
but I am afraid
of lawyers and you.

I have a blockage
in my head
caused by an old broken nose
so it creates
a headache
that neither helps
nor hinders
and when life
presents an obstacle
I go around it
by just paying.

I think about my dead
it. Maybe out of a desire
to think about my dead.
To have things done
about the dream I lived
differently - also known
as life with my family.
Also known as regret,
like the time we were,
additionally, it. Maybe,
from an inability to
be happy, like poetry
that releases yourself,
when you laugh. I laugh,
or others, from past words
like ticketyboo or some
actions, like sitting on the
also.

Some people
look for wisdom
in books and the internet
but I have found
that I only find
other's wisdom there
and can't find the wisdom
which I need
so I have discovered
that wisdom is found
in the head
where thoughts
become words
become ideas
and many look
for wisdom in the heart
but that's just a blood pump
and the head
has taken a bad rap
by the Asian religions
and Star Wars
but I believe
in the mind
where I find
wisdom
and even compassion
but I try to remember
to keep the Socratic idea
that I actually don't know anything.

Spontaneity slowly wringing happy tie in superly
spand of lilac slingly hyperbolic in siatic spurious

Her is a lamp of antique
a golden legs of strings

Barbara was studied
as a woman

"If the river was whiskey and I was a diving duck, I'd swim to the bottom and drink my way back up" - unknown blues author

We shouldn't think too badly of *****
just because it is poison
and gives us a headache
and terrible nausea
Jack is not so bad
Mr. Whiskey talks in a fine way
to those who love him
but don't mistreat whiskey man
or he'll have you running around
naked
and the men in their uniforms
will come to get you.

When I was a kid,
I was in a group
of other kids,
called Indian Guides,
and it was a bunch
of suburban Dads
with their suburban children,
playing at being
Native Americans,
so I thought
that it was a Mickey Mouse
organization,
but now
that I am sixty years old,
I have gotten back
to playing
Native American,
by playing
authentic musical instruments
in my own way
and singing and dancing
in my own way
and saying a poem
in the early morning
to the Great Spirit,
so I may be
a phony,
but it does something
to me
that is moving
and peaceful.

He asked me,
"Who is in control
of your smoking?
You or your cigarettes?"
and I thought
that both of us were,
that it is a mutual habit,
that I know
when I am smoking
and when I am about
to light one,
but cigarettes
have this way
of talking you into it,
or is it the mind?

What's inside
this head
is a bunch
of words
and music
that lead
to experiences
and that's why
I love it.

I know
I am a loser
but in Zen
the loser wins
so you don't have to
**** me.

Here in the suburban nature of things
I sit in paradise, not seen that way by others,
and contemplate the wondrous weather
of this moment in summer
when, a few minutes ago, I was on the front porch
just sitting on a flowered chair
but inside the energy of kundalini
was streaming through my body/mind
in an explosive thrill of ecstatic feeling
as I was drinking coffee, quietly.

Like people, money,
haiku, eyes, beer,
heart home.

Don't love Dharma,
red cup,
untitled new baby pen,
student morning,
altar closed,
Buddha really candle bar world!

Like things,
say,
small caught kiss,
watch lilacs sing,

Forget.

Told break,
make hymns,
Know. Die.
Wet soft green
stops eyes.

Grass hands.

Yes.
Best.

About twenty years or so ago
I decided to apply myself
and work dilligently
at creating a life for myself
in the Arts
so I began working hard
day after day after day
every day
and every night
toiling at creating
my works of many differing arts
every day working eighteen or nineteen
hours a day

and now, twenty or so years later
I have found
that I have worked my way
right straight
to the bottom!
You can do it too
if you work hard
and apply yourself!

I drank beer,     one double beer
and am writing     about nothing

because now     not knowing will
save us, today,      on top of this

chair with pen     in the unknown hand
that holds the ink    of knowing.

My music
is spontaneous
and comes
from the instant
that it takes place
often without
any ideas
at all
so I am sitting
typing at the keyboard
playing little clicking tones
on my qwerty piano
writing about
nothing in particular
only this music
in its current score form
that documents
a person's existence
like this guy
here.

Perseverance, when trying
to be passive, is like jello.
Submission to jello is some
place for circumstances.
Strong jello is found
in a yoga class. The
active yogi has a response
to the difficult events
of the yoga class. Global
achievers eat jello just
like the rest of us. We
are victims of their
model. They spout dire
forecasts, as if they
were desirable, like jello
or yoga. There's always
room for yoga and jello.

I drank a cup of green tea
and immediately got sick
with the depression
from my new-found allergy
to green tea
which is supposed to be good
but to me possibly
is poison
so I had some cigarettes
and felt much better.

Win a wham of crusty
bangles, dripping in
sugary zoo cake for
the zimmy of rocko buster
tootie with
a booper of sock fish!

They say
we all have
our down days
and I have
many depressed days
about twice a month
when the mind
gets sad, then angry,
then sad again,
but then one day
I wake up
and everything
is better,
and everyday life
becomes Nirvana to me
once again,
so I can't find
any cure
for this yoyoitis
except sitting alone,
smoking cigarettes,
and thinking.

This present, perfect moment
is the end of eternity
and the beginning of eternity
at the same time.
That's why we say
that ordinary, everyday life
is the great way.
Nobody seems to believe it.

I think
Zen has been taught
all wrong
for a long time,
because the common understanding
is that Zen gives you
peace of mind,
an empty mind,
a mind which doesn't think,
and other such hogwash,
so I can explain
what Zen meditation
does to me,
and that is
that it brings up
much chi energy
to my head,
because of the way
that the eyes are fixed
and the posture
and the breathing
and the mantra,
and so
the mind becomes
stronger, more powerful,
more active,
not more peaceful
and passive,
and as such
it is conducive
to such phenomena
as internal music,
much thinking,
channeling,
telepathy and psychic powers,
seeing things,
hearing things,
and imagining things,
therefore
if you are getting into Zen
for peace of mind,
you've gone
to the wrong place.

So while
"Gate, Gate,
Paragate,
Parasamgate,
Bodhi,
Svaha!"
is the Great Dharani
and the Radiant Supreme Mantram,
we must also
keep in mind
The Lesser Dharani
of
"Oo Ee
Oo Ah Ah
Ting Tang
Walla Walla Bing Bang"
and also meditate
on the Lesser Mantram
of
"Ohwah
Tagoo
Siam"
and always remember
that us poets
are all enlightened
because we know
the sound
of one hand clapping
because
we always seem
to hear it
when we read aloud
at poetry readings.

I have decided
to try
Zen Lite
as an answer
to my Zen life,
and it involves
not going to
the temple,
and not doing
retreats,
and not being
vegetarian,
and only doing
five minutes
of meditation practice
a day,
so instead
of being
a Zen Marine
like a lot of people,
I will be
a light guy.

The music of the Great Dharani plays in the ether.
As I breathe like a sine wave, the song becomes an essence.
The celestial singers sing a perfect fifth.
Over and over it sings.
Then it changes, to go down through the circle of fifths.
Vocalizing every conceivable note.
Then I come out of my meditation.
The music still plays in the air.

So, you know,
the arrow
goes halfway
and then
it goes halfway again
and again
and again
and never gets there.
So, that's obvious.
So, you could try
shooting the arrow
and it gets there.
But, that's not
so obvious,
because you might say
"Gets where?"
"I don't know where there is.".
So, somebody points
and they say
"You know. There".
But, since you don't see
anything that he's
pointing to,
you shoot the arrow
and it never gets there.
See...Easy!