Yeah?

 I got nothing better to do than write,

and whomever reads this has nothing

better to do than do that. Almost 

existential, if you catch my Beckett.

Poetry is not necessarily revelatory,

or beautiful or even necessary….no

wait….it is necessary….something 

is necessary.

 

Stellar

Stellar events, in the sky and on the ground…

outstanding like an Executive Order or a comet,

spectacular in display and effect, out of this world,

not to be ignored, this is your life too, smoke them  

if you got ‘em….one fore all, all for one, and every 

man for themselves….( The Three Stooges)…

Stellar like all the events that are happening and

continue to happen….for a long time nothing 

happens, and then, everything happens at once

Hi, how ya doing? I thought I’d take this 

opportunity to say hi, how ya doing? 

Any questions?

Diminishing Returns

It’s a great day…I don’t have to do anything.

I don’t like to do anything anymore.

Those things are a drag, whatever they are.

When I was young I could do so much more,

plumbing buildings,

acting in plays,

teaching the dharma…I can’t even write poems

much anymore….

never that good, but better before.

It’s like I’m watching the credits for my own movie

scrolling down.

Who stays around in the theatre for those?

My writing now is mostly eulogy: “John Tischer: he tried.”

It never has reached many.

“Meditate, you fuckers!” is what I want to scream

to the world.

The pursuit of happiness is a waste of time.

“A snowflake on a burning stove.”

“No trudging through vast Arabies of hot meaning…

you just numbly don’t get there.” Kerouac

“All is vanity.” Ecclesiastics 

We Buddhists know this.

All we do is try to help the others.

But the others don’t care,

can’t listen,

are too busy,

don’t even want to know.

The only thing Buddhists have going

for themselves is eternity, like

the bumper sticker reads:

“Buddhism…eventually.”

Yup

A baby smiled at me with a full set

of perfect teeth.

Beautiful day, perfect temperature.

Anther kid exclaimed “Pero!!” cutely 

at some dogs.

What more do you want?

Mars?

Werner Von Braun, the Paper Clip

scientist, predicted an Elon would take

us to Mars.

And so it goes.

“No wonder the truth is stranger than fiction.

Fiction has to make sense,” Mark Twain

March 4, 2025

My birthday, ‘76,

The day the American Republic

will re emerge, announcing the end

of the treasonous insurrection,

the slave state,

if you can believe that.

It could happen.

Who would have thought that four years ago?

Branded

Abercrombie and Fitch

Pepsi

Hollister

A list of names people wear that

makes them feel as if they were cool,

not hanging by a hook from their heel,

but it’s the same idea.

You don’t think so.

“Strange days have found us.”

Welcome to the slaughterhouse.

Never Do What The Government Tells You

I didn’t go to Vietnam, the war escalated by

treasonous L.B.J..

I didn’t take the bioweapon.

In between I tried to live my life, find out what

life was in the first place, tried to help others.

So far, so good.

I slaved away as a plumber for thirty years

so they couldn’t steal my soul…that worked.

How’s about you? How’s it going?

It’s too late to get on the pedophile Satanist

gravy train….those people are in for a rude

awakening….wouldn’t you agree?

Do you even see?

You might want to start opening your eyes

while that’s still optional.

January 20, 2025 Tepoztlan

Partly sunny, 68, streets lightly trafficked,

unassuming, unremarkable, just another day,

in the universe,

right here, with it’s routine, it’s momentum,

people with hopes and dreams, 

oh yeah! you bet! for sure!

how’s that working out for ya, 

before the “Big Ta Da!” ?

Even then, it continues, much ado about nothing,

always looking for something,

“the” something,

it’s something’s, all the way down.

Not bad, this day…as good a day to die as any.

That way, I appreciate it,

even if there is no punchline.

Now What?

OK, we went through all the criminality 

and attempts to overthrow the Constitution,

and Trump is back as President.

Biden’s pardons don’t work for treason.

Just waiting to see, Mr. President,

just waiting to see.

Wink Wink

A little girl looked at me today,

I waved, she waved, it made me happy.

It’s all about the waves,

frequencies,

we are in an ocean of waves of sense

perceptions, all ways, all waves, a big one,

and people scatter like seashells,

a barracuda, and waves of fear.

##############################

A man with a little ponytail,

gringo, wouldn’t look at me, Californian,

maybe.

I survive because of the flow of electrons,

paper I exchange for food…

most of us do.

It’s the law now, meaning, how things work,

meaning necessary for survival,

the way teeth used to be.

Meanwhile, at the top of the rollercoaster,

At the edge of the slowly crumbling cliff,

trying to make heads or tails of a convulsive 

octopus, which side of the aquarium glass

are we on?

We always knew there was something we 

didn’t know, a reality hidden from us Eloi,

but the universe says no more.

All that glitters is not gold, and what appears 

on tic tok is not real.

I fall in love with a woman walking towards me,

immediately,

an idiot living like the rest of us in the world.

I could look down…

I could look down on the world

of marching morons dancing to doom,

blissfully or not, unaware.

I can’t because I’m just one of them

with a different point of view.

I suffered and dealt with it through meditation,

to beat a horse.

No one can share my experience.

The best I can do is write some words,

hand someone a hit of LSD,

recommend a movie…”Blueberry” maybe.

Pointing…why pointing out instruction is

so powerful…pointing directly at experience 

through the senses is the whole point.

Tibetans have an oral culture and a visual one…

direct experience.

“The eyes are the windows to the soul.”

Who said that?

A koan is a monkey wrench in the works of

discursive mind, stymies the mechanism, then:

“Quatzi!” 

and there you are…

there really isn’t anything else,

and even that is in question.

Interesting Time

Lying in bed

comfortable 

the week ahead

change afoot

brave new world?

we’ll see

certainly 

not anything 

you could have imagined.

Like lambs to the slaughter,

these are the days of our lives.

(I just wanted to write that)

Timing

It’s a little late to start toeing the line.

I always tried to avoid, go around the line,

an outlaw at heart.

The line was always too two dimensional,

still is.

I saw America going two dimensional, so

I went somewhere else.

This is painfully, obviously, more true today,

not like before,

when the alleys smelled of earth,

and the shops where we bought and sold

like the anthem of an age.

Brief Interlude

A delightful little moment between

crushing concomitants.

Whoever thought I would feel joy for

a second yes I do not having a memory

helps I can finally be one of the numbed dumb

more or less most that I see.

Ignorance is bliss, loosing longing in Lethe

is almost as good as enlightenment not really,

but, there you go.

I’m just writing the usual something about

nothing, my audience is space itself, what

you have between your ears whether you

know it or not. Not spaced out: spaced in

to right now, ordinary experience, where

Buddha found enlightenment.

Raising Lungta

Splash!

of joy, of goodness off the wall 

in front of me disbursing into shards

of light in every direction.

Imagination?

I’d say so if I was making it up.

I’m just reporting a quantum clear moment

apart from the momentum we call our lives.

Blink and you missed it

unidentified 

unappreciated 

not being able to even turn around

and see a sunset.

C’mon! Bunkey!

You can do better than that!

You ain’t seen nothing yet!

Turquoise Dragon

Turquoise truck like the one in Colorado 

we called the “Turquoise Dragon” thunders

by me on the street. The first good omen today.

Like a snow globe that’s been shaken,

things be happenin’.

What’s shakin’?

A new false flag?

Another war?

More corruption?

Oh joy!

Maybe the Martians will come to save us.

Maybe we are the Martians.

We do live in interesting times, and the

algorithm is reaching it’s conclusion,

the calendar of Maya illusion.

Still, the Turquoise Dragon thunders in the sky,

really, not a drone, a sign from on high.

A quantum memory from the Akashic record?

A time quake some might conjecture?

The Matrix seen through perhaps?

Your guess is as good as mine.

Wouldn’t it be lovely to sit on the banks

of a bubbling stream, the constant waters

caressing cares away?

“It would be lovely, to wave a cut lilly and

panic a Notary, or, finish a nun with a left

to the ear…

it would be lovely just to walk around with

my green switchblade handy, whooping it up

‘til I die of the shivers.” Pablo Neruda

War of the Words

The internet is a slurry of slurs,

A world of word wars, people 

that love their own voices, served

on a platform that encourages 

discursive mind, the bane of our

existences.

Sure, there are funny videos

of cats and dogs, the goofs of idiots

captured and recycled….videos of

accidents, tragedies, street fights,

whatever will capture the attention 

for a byte or two, a cacophony of chaos

where the occasional truth is swept 

under the tsunami of flotsam, wreckage 

of civilization.

Nothing civilized about it.

Luckily, it’s only words.

“Don’t let your insatiable appetite 

for bullshit run away with you!”

S.S.T.

Revelation

It’s all happening now, just not the way

you could have imagined…

there’s fire in the skies, chaos on the planet,

machinations becoming visible.

All religions predicted this time,

not that anybody’s ready.

Age of Aquarius? Kali Yuga?

Hard to say…the jury’s still out,

karma is still unfolding.

The world will never be the same.

History will seem like a fantasy we

we’re led to believe. We’ve been

fooled by the mirage of duality.

Don’t take it from me.

Read the Bible.

Read the prophets;

Nostradamus,

Baba Venga,

Edgar Cayce,

Bob Lazar,

and realize that everything 

you thought you knew is wrong.

Taking Stock

I gave my whole life to Buddhism,

not that my life was worth much,

but there’s that.

Better, I think, than having lived life

without a clue, if you know what I mean.

I live in a paradise, which is always uncertain,

even more for me, given my undisclosed 

circumstances.

So, I’m forced to live each day as if it was 

the last. There’s a parable in there somewhere.

Many to thank and no one to blame, even myself.

An epitaph on a tombstone I liked:

He tried.