Puzzilla

 

This is it,

believe it or not.

The “overwhelming question”

a la Eliot.

“A lot of people think they’ve 

got a pretty good bead on reality.”

Agent K

What if I told you everything you

think you know is wrong?

OK, how’s about half?
(I’m willing to compromise).

If you take any interest in life itself

besides maintaining comfort,

that means there’s inquisitiveness, 

curiosity, an itch you try to scratch.

That’s what it means to be human; 

to work things out.

Not knowing is where you start to 

put the pieces together.

It’s all right in front of you.

Just hanging...

 

…plenty of rope, so I’m not too nervous…

all I have is time…

to watch the pot boil over

to watch the storms coming in,

the rain coming down,

the sweet pit bull in the backyard

that I drop a hot dog to now and then.

All this talk about unidentified flying 

objects.

What about the things we see 

in front of our eyes

we can’t identify?

What about all the media and internet

smorgasbord of words in which it’s

impossible to find the truth?

Do we even recognize the truth when

we see it?

But, I digress…

I see that stuff, and I feel it.

I’m not in the middle of it because 

I’m in Mexico.

What’s happening has affected my friends 

and family in ways it’s hard to believe.

It feels like a Civil War, even far away,

even as I look out the window at the

canopy of trees, casitas dotting the

hillside, cries of children.

It’s a war of words, carefully chosen

and sophisticatedly edited to go off

in your brain again and again,

just ask Goebbels.

Just thinking out loud….this is what’s

going one in my brain right now. 

Everyone’s got one.

I bet some of it sounds familiar.

In the movie, “Dr. Strange”, there is a 

scene where a monk hands him a slip

of paper. On it, he reads the single word: 

“Shamballa” “He asks,”What’s this, my

mantra?” Then, the monk says some

words I CAN’T UNDERSTAND! which is

very frustrating.

Just a day in the life.

Most peoples’ words don’t make sense 

to me; like we’ve all just come down from 

the Tower of Babel. It’s a strange thing or

just my old age….I won’t argue that point…

…and so it goes.

Occam's Razor

 

Every trouble shooter in every field knows

to look for the simplest, most obvious

explanation for any problem.

Overthinking, like in politics, religion, 

philosophy, military strategy, is always

the biggest problem with those things.

That’s why the Saints and the Zen Masters

and the yogis led the simplest of lives.

Happy Birthday, Mystery Heart Brother

 My dear friend’s birthday eighty years old…

we had the same Buddhist teacher, 

Trungpa, but didn’t meet each other until 

shortly after we both arrived in Tepoztlan 

the same month, sixteen years ago.

Strange coincidence or karma?

Karma, whether you think it’s a thing or not,

shows how such a circumstance can be

plausibly explained as more than mere

coincidence.

Coincidence merely shrugs its shoulders 

and says: “Maybe”,

like changing the channel because 

you don’t like the show.

Too much ado about something small?

Maybe…

but, if you’re competent at anything, you

recognize the importance of the details.

To understand what life is, it’s important 

to pay attention to the details.

In fact, that’s how humans evolve…

just ask Buddha.

The friendship I have with my eighty 

year old buddy has run the gamut.

It’s proven to be unbreakable,

a piece of the puzzle,

a shard of the mystery.

All Colors Are Racist

 …because they exclude the other colors.

(White, ironically, is the only one that is not,

since white includes all the colors.)

All people are bigoted because they have opinions.

All people are sexist because they have something 

between their legs.

All people are fascist that want a society run by laws.

Reductio ad absurdum.

Rainy Season Poem

 Last night the rain came down steady

like a tape you listen to

to help you sleep, only 

it was really there.

Eternally enabling rain, sometimes a rant,

sometimes a whisper, a thunderous 

message, chiaroscuro of roiling clouds,

always a magical freshness after.

My place has so many windows and doors

the storm passes right through.

I like the exposure, the nakedness.

The weather has always been my mother.

We are part of nature, wouldn’t you agree?

The edifices,  monuments, city streets

laid out like the grid of someone’s mind

can’t hide the fact we’re made of earth

and to earth we will return.

Maudlin enough, maybe, but when was 

the last time you had your feet in a stream?

Rainy season is like a dream...

the rain itself a constant theme 

caressing thoughts away.

Mysteries

 Sun falling behind mountains 

as clouds gather and thicken

dogs bark, a cow moos.

It won’t be long now.

What if your life is all just

a bunch of special effects?

(I can’t get that jingle 

out of my head.)

I live in the open 

where no one can find me,

invisible eccentric oldster.

I wish I could tell them

everything.

Mediaopolis

CNN blaring in every airport terminal,

bus and train station.

Every day a “Five Minute Hate” on T.V.

usually of Trump.

I’m just giving you some facts.

White House Spokesperson 

a master of using stupidity to deflect.

Representatives sharpen debate as a weapon.

New laws abet chaos.

This is what you voted for,

If you imagine the election was fair.

If so, you voted for nineteen eighty four.

Wake Up And Smell The Gnosis

 

Love is all around.

So is knowledge, wisdom,

embedded in the way trees grow,

the way animals nurture their young.

All you have to do to see it 

is use your senses backed by 

an open mind.

Enlightenment is always part 

of our experience, whether we 

recognize it or not. Otherwise,

there never would have been a Buddha.

Western mind is such a smarty pants,

thinking that figuring things out 

is the way to go…scientific materialism

that can’t walk and chew gum 

at the same time…quantum paradox?

They got to the moon  and all they did

was bounce around and play golf,

just like on earth...oh..excuse me...

they brought some rocks back.

Why believe anything?

Don’t you trust your own intelligence?

(rhetorical question)

Unpack your baggage and throw away

the suitcase. 

Many have, in case you’re wondering.