Best Samsara Poems
karma is a boomerang an unassailable yin and yang
Cliche: "What goes around comes around"
Samsara
Endless, pointless
Boring, joying, funny
All beings struggling to escape from this realm
Hell!
In the vigor of day no cloud, in night's creep thought so loud
the body of your birth shock animated,
where nothing lies or dies
and the only law that can catch you is hesitance
in the heart where your naivety resides
intuition's arithmetic equals defiance
you know that there is lightning in your lamp
a studious savage barks to begin
the State will sear your surname onto the collar and clamp
you only have the right to fight to live, to take the win,
is the heart of a hero infallible
can you become a juggernaut of justice
to no longer rage against the inevitable
the diploma soul tattooed, let love be your witness,
the skeletons and songs of samsara eternal -
I want to thank Poet, Craig Cornish, for introducing
the academic format of Heroic Crown Sonnet to me,
and I am proud to say...I did it my way...
also, I reversed the ryhme scheme for the 15th sonnet,
and the 15th sonnet was not composed prior to
the preceeding 14 poems being written in this composition...Justin A. Bordner
Not For Contest...J.A.B.
Why must all things suffer so
Oh how I would like to know
Why are we given life
Only to suffer hunger thirst and strife
Fairness is a thing of fiction
Given greed corruption affliction
We are not created equal
Some are victims some are lethal
Some require everything
Some settle for anything
Luxury enjoyed by some
Others fight for any crumb
Deprivation hate starvation
Conditions plaguing every nation
Spoken of but no solution
Only procrastination and delusion
Why must all things suffer so
Ask a Buddhist
He will know
No matter what you do in samsara
in the effort to improve samsara,
improve yourself, improve others,
it’s still samsara.
All effort, all improvement, never leaves the wheel,
but that doesn’t mean there’s only the wheel.
The wheel is what spins, ever-changing,
the embodiment of impermanence,
but what it spins in
spins around,
spins for,
is another story altogether.
(8/19/23)
I am not a Buddhist
But a friend of mine you see
Is a student of the Dharma
And passes on to me
The wisdom of the ages
To help me understand
That though there is suffering
There’s also goodness in the land
Suffering the product of envy pride and greed
Subject to Karmic forces both good and bad indeed
To help diminish suffering good Karma is required
In striving for enlightenment we also are inspired
To think right thoughts do right deeds and speak only of the truth
But idealism optimism all easier found in youth
Seems to fade with age, experience and onslaught of nightly news
But still many try to find the good and build more positive views
With succor in religion through life they try to face
The misery and suffering so rampant in life’s race
Like Buddhists Christians Jews and Muslims who all see a better place
They depend on the good we do right now to earn reward and grace
So all the world’s religions depend on another life
To rescue us from ourselves and hunger thirst and strife
But I am not a Buddhist a Christian or a Jew
I’m forced to face the facts of life that seem to be too true
We’re stuck here in Samsara with no hope for some relief
From all we do to ourselves that cause us so much grief
All the Karmic forces that drive us to despair
Greed corruption affliction overwhelming everywhere
But in the end we can depend on relief from all discouragement
Because in the end it's all too true that all things are impermanent
Life will end and with its' passing peace will finally reign
Relieving us from misery suffering and pain
Unfortunately for the Buddhist death is no way out
He’s forced to return again and again to try to work things out
An eternity of attempting to overcome our nature
Never even coming close to avoiding all the danger
Of being reborn into a world becoming stranger and stranger
The mess we created is here to stay
No matter how hard or much we pray
So my advice to you while you still have life....
Appreciate the gift
Enjoy what you can
It’s part of the plan
And try to give others a lift
Howard Tunick
May 2015
raindrops
falling upon leaves
of reincarnation
March 30, 2016
Oh, the sunlight heals my soul, right
here in the middle of May.
Fairness and sanity require that
you report a perfect day.
Sunday afternoon, mountain high clouds in the blue,
and a single engine plane somewhere up there
to remind you of earlier days that you once knew.
A question arises to vex you as you sit here.
In the midst of high grass and wild flowers,
above the shrieks of children in the playground down the way,
the question, "Do we ever change?", hovers,
and troubles me throughout this perfect day.
I pass grape vines with new leaves hanging down,
white butterflies and blue agapanthus plant.
Cyclists streak by as if the trail was their own.
Still the thought does not relent.
My earliest memories of well being
are repeated in this very moment.
The cool breeze, the shattered sunlight shining
through the leaves, the children's chant,
even the single engine in the sky
complete a cycle that I am aware
I have been a part of, but I don't know why.
Is this just samsura of which we must beware?
In loving this moment and wanting to cling to it
do I add to an attractive old trap and
did I create it this morn when deciding the day fit
perfectly and drank deeply of air and land.
Do I recognize the return of a moment
already experienced? Is each second
a fractal pattern designed to entrap and torment
or simply a brand new day just found?
(Dzachuka Tibet, summer of 2017)
The Madness of the Crowd and Other Popular Delusions
The crowd is always prone to madness
Since reaction as a herd in danger
Demands conformity without reason.
The fact we live in a time of madness
Is nothing new or unusual,
Relative Reality after all being
Merely a conspiracy of relatives.
But sometimes it seems it’s all now extra crazy
As traditional boundaries break down
And everyone is free to think and say
And increasingly do whatever they want.
The ascendency of gender dysphoria
And acceptance, even celebration
Of child mutilation
Being a case in point.
But the fact is, we live in a world of illusion
Which the madness and delusions of the crowd
Is merely attempting to adapt to,
As all our perceptions and thoughts filter through
A mind which can do no other than interpret and distort.
These are the tools we are given,
A mind and body hardwired to survive
In a world of illusion, thus adapted
To the point of expertise with spinning illusions.
It’s not our fault, but instead our destiny
To find a way through
Out of the Cave of Unknowing
Into the Space
Of a land before time.
(12/6/24)
I know I done it all before.
I just wish to do it all, once more.
Clawed clouds descend upon us!
Like Adam so Eve.
Naked we wait…
What gods we are?
As for creation, we End.
In his image, we conceive.
Forests of masonry stand tall,
Chariots of death we ride,
What gods we are?
From the wells of Hell, we drink.
As the elixir of life sings…
Like muezzins leading prayers of the prophet.
True fountain of youth Indeed,
Youth marked by the crucifix?
Youth marked by the crescent Moon and Star?
In the garden of lost dreams, they lay.
Like martyrs of yesterday!
INRI…
DOB-DOD, MAN-BB!
True products of ignorance.
TIC! TOC! TIC! TOC!
Chronographs of death,
Counting as dreams are conceived!
What gods we are?
As dreams oxidize in our ignorance.
(“Original Mind”, 2017, original mixed media encaustic)
Tathagata and the Paradox of Being
There is no death in samsara
Unless you are in samsara…
Mind is free and always has been
free to bind and enslaved itself
Perhaps first in play or accident
But then eventually in habit.
Mind is like the sky
Open and accommodating
And ultimately unhindered or blemished
In any way by obscuring clouds.
Reality on the ground however,
Is a whole nother story,
The way every region on Earth
With its different climates and peoples
Is in fact completely and qualitatively different!
The range of suffering in samsara
Is infinite and individual.
The range of what is beyond suffering
Is the opposite; uniform and universal.
(11/29/24)
Hi all,
A while back, I published a long epic free verse poem about the Samsara. I originally wished to publish it on Poetrysoup, but as I had a specific font and overlapping picture design in mind, it was not possible. Thus, if anyone wishes to view my poem, it is available here for free and in Public Domain:
https://www.scribd.com/document/323039548/Turning-and-Tumbling-The-Glooming-Samsara
The day after my Aunt Ro died
a doe approached within a few feet
as if confused about where she was
and what she should be doing.
I could neither comfort nor advise her.
I let her be not considering until later maybe
I had witnessed the transmigration of a soul.
But in the end I applied Ockham’s razor—
you rarely see what you believe.
A mile further along my morning stroll
I was greeted cheerfully by a flock
of cedar waxwings I always consider it a blessing
to encounter. Such social, amiable beings
I hope Aunt Ro will join, so sure are they of who they are—
The oblivious of technical school in Japan exist
In speaking California
Somehow people live with them
I am alive again
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