Hitchhiker's Observation (early poem)
Wyoming mesa barren
sun sets sky red

An old gas pump
broken

Batters against itself
in the wind.

Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb
posted: 09 Jun 2005


For Kathy, my first Love soon after parting (early poem)
I remember now . . .
We embraced in the moonlight . . .
naked . . .

Loving . . . touching . . . everywhere . . . desire . . .
moon faced . . . beaming . . . eyes . . . gleaming . . .

You promised that you would never leave me.

But you did,
and we died . . .

Now I am left
only with memories
that pierce
a dragonís heart.

Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb
posted: 08 Jun 2005


Upon receiving Kathy's last letter of farewell. . . (early poem)
My boots have no substance
feet touch only cold concrete

Dogs bare their teeth
as I walk by
but no doors will open anyway . . .

Passing a solitary rose
I indulge in the sweetness, briefly
A thorn pierces my skin
Painfully awakening me from the trance.

Resuming the journey: there is nowhere to go

So I shall continue without haste
Legs propelling body through space
Feet to cold concrete.

Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb
posted: 07 Jun 2005


MetaKu (early poem)
Authorís note : I hitchhiked to Boston October 1973 from Portland, Oregon, and attended the first Dharma Festival. I saw Ram Dass, Allen Ginsberg and Chogyam Trungpa, Rinpoche. The first time I saw Rinpoche, I knew that he was my teacher. It was during the next year that I began the transition from wandering stoned minstrel to a student of the Dharma.

Below are some sample poems written during this time.

Nothing is,
a journey to nowhere . . .
. . . it goes.

Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb
posted: 06 Jun 2005


Undoubtably the Universe is Unfolding as it should...but why did it have to write this poem? (early poem)
I wanta sink my teeth
into something Real...

amothafuckinhunkarealtiy
not just more
bogusbunchafuckinthoughts

how about a
goldenvoidofsupersensationalorgasmicblissfulmindorgies

awwww shit,
morebogusbunchafunkinthoughts

what a Pisser :

there is no Eternal rocking chair
this is no Nirvana picnic.

Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb
posted: 05 Jun 2005


Li Po Lost his shadow . . . (early poem)
Li Po,
disputing Confucius,
lost his shadow
while drunk
in a plum grove.

A five colored parakeet
alit on a branch
does not perch long.

Plum blossom petals
fall away as
Li Poís shadow . . .

Swallows
the midnight moon.

Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb
posted: 04 Jun 2005


For Kathy, an after-thought while hearing a distant flute. . . (early poem)
The distant flute sounds . . .
promises are made to be broken,
love knows no distance
in places of no thought.

Thoughts are many
distances are great
as the flute plays a song
promises are made.

It is very easy to deceive others
sadly, even easier
to deceive
one-self.

Thoughts are like ducks
flying low above the lake
disappearing with distance
into the rising sun.

No-promises are indestructible
as is love for you . . .
. . . boundless . . .
. . . end-less . . .

Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb
posted: 03 Jun 2005


What Shape is Harvard Square? (early poem)
What Shape is Harvard Square
To Boston Commons, a circle
Where men of ignorance
Stare through telescopes
Trying to see their eyes.

Prophets of doom on every corner
Salvation Army bell ringing electronic Christmas
Streets with no names . . .
Houses with no numbers. . .

Falling away from my-self
to a river of breath
in and out . . .

A corridor to nowhere
hall of gold
Cyclone of silence . . .

Energy waves wax and wane
with white walls moving
Pyramids of light . . .
Mandalas of ancient astronauts
riding cobweb eggshells
Into the sun . . .

Waffled back cat
dripping asterisks
Of purple and yellow applause . . .

Polyhued eggfarts
bubbling with music
And surprise . . .

Police on high horse watches
paranoia with a smile shuffle slowly
Streets of shiny red night with no sleep . . .
Answers in every question
Inside every church . . . emptiness.

Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb
posted: 02 Jun 2005


Words Haiku (early poem)
Words
like carrot tops
only a hint of the root.

Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb
posted: 01 Jun 2005


Sparse (early poem)
Attic room empty:

mattress
candle
zafu

Copyright 2005 Buddha Bomb
posted: 31 May 2005


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