Buddhist Poems

In Praise of Dharmadhatu

All roads lead to the same place
What’s different is the path they take

But no matter where you go
There is always at least a hint of perfection

A perfection that is great
Because it is always and already perfect

Even in the depths of Hell
The light of awareness casts its shadows

While at the peak of Heaven
That light is all

A BUDDHIST CHRISTMAS

A BUDDHIST CHRISTMAS

December date as now revised
There are lights hung on trees
Bodhi and Christmas Dharma
Jesus’ teachings are respected
Only messiah status is rejected
With a clear goodwill Karma
A difference only by degrees
Yet mutual courtesy is advised

The Buddhist Woman

In the middle of a hot summer morning 
upon my return from the beach 
throngs of people trudging through 
on a busy Sunday, by the water quay 

My heart so heavy laden that it doesn't speak 
heart breaking beauty that I can only see 
she walks by in a tilly hat and shiny eyes 
the

Wanderer

Wanderer,
free spirit,
gets around the endless world,
he relentlessly seeks happiness.
Open your eyes
encounter an aurora borealis
simple to perfection,
like a lost Eskimo
or as a Buddhist monk
who attains Nirvana somewhere in distant Burma.
Or rather as an aborigine influenced by mysticism
or a lost Sufi
among the vapors of the hookah,
the scents of a forgotten time
that leave behind only the perfume of

In Sanskrit

In Tibet, the night was cold and she said in Sanskrit:
Over years, in loneliness my heart bled in Sanskrit

All mantras of love have failed in winning her for me
Tell any Tantras to take me ahead in Sanskrit

Behind curtains of temple there was a paradise
Night was pleasant ride, though she spoke in bed in Sanskrit

The awesome

Beacon

beacon of hope
dalai lama in exile
his gift to the world



AP: Honorable Mention 2022

Posted on October 6, 2022

The World Religions

Realization & The World Religions

Christianity
Petro—Peter means stone
Jesus made a pun:
Upon this stone I build my church
Unto you I give the keys to the Kingdom
Hence Peter—The First Pope
Jesus “He is my Rock and Salvation”

Judaism
The Mitzvah—God blesses every good deed

The Buddha
sits under a bode tree, 
Surrounded by swirling forces of greed,
temptation, and evil intent
Desires which are the

Stillness

wherever 
we go
there
will be 

decay and
absence

for the
moment
we absorb

and learn
stillness


become
silent




listen 
silently






silently
becoming

The Buddhist Monk

The Buddhist monk, with a clean bowl
Set out in search for food
He wished to relinquish control
Gourmet desires removed

Tread gently on the earth
Give desires a wide berth
Joyous in bubbling mirth

Erst cravings shrunk 
The Buddhist monk

18-December-2021
Quietus 

Buddhist Serenity

in gratitude
we went
our way
admiring
the wonder
of another
sunny day
thankful for
the happiness
in our life
humble 
yet
so blessed



AP: 3rd place 2020

Posted on July 14, 2020

Humbly Read For Your Own Benefit, Buddhist Utopia

We have "civilized" ourselves in a hurry, so we hurry and feel busy, VIPs:
Life is like great music, magnificent dance. It doesn't rush to the END -
If the end, the goal, was ALL, the fastest dance, the quickest song, would win

Beneath the Bodhi Tree

The branches here leave 

no shadows where doubt can creep 

infiltrating your conciousness; reicinirating your grief

Here, your inner consiousness makes up its mind

Your soul less curious, your mind is at ease 

Remember what you came here for

Beneath the Bodhi tree

Buddhist I

The Buddha insists on the absence of ‘I'.
We banish the self if we ardently try.
I’ve done meditation
and hoped for salvation.
So who became Buddhist?  The Buddha — not I.

A Buddhist I

I stare into the the mirror
My I stares back at me. 
Its a relflection of what I see
and what others may percieve.
My I is so important 
Im sure you disagree 
as my I is not yours you see.
My I means the world to me
Its my beginning and my end.
but that which stares back at me
Is

To Nirvana

Incense mingled with sweet smelling flowers...
Gentle chanting cuts through the lapping rain. 
Little oil lamps, light the gentle face of Buddha...
His white clad pilgrims, with eyes closed and hands clasped, 
Listen to the monk's sermon. 
Their gentle walk, light to the mind and soul...
As they observe the way to Nirvana.

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