Buddhists don’t talk of original sin
The way Christians do,
But they both talk about the same thing;
That in the beginning there was light
And the Word, and the missing of the mark.
For Buddhists this “sin” is basic ignorance,
The ignoring of who and what we are.
For Buddhists experience is divided
Into two basic categories;
Enlightened, or Nirvana, and
Deluded, or Samsara.
Nirvana is peace.
Samsara is suffering.
The experience of each are thus polar opposites,
But the simple original sin,
The fundamental deviance,
Is that Samsara arose from the desire
To improve Nirvana, our original nature.
So Samsara is Nirvana plus desire,
The desire to personalize it,
Put our mark of identity on what was
Already always perfect.
To extend the cross cultural metaphor
You could say we wanted to give it
The mark of the beast.
And that’s how we lost the light.
(8/16/26)
… the original woman
The pure
Without sickness
No sick psychology
The man-hater
I need the original
God created
Without psychology
No need this science
Only the Bible
That’s all
But everything
Forever
ORIGINAL ARCHETYPE-:-
slightly
distractedly
dreaming
novel
beginnings
in a STATE of INNOCENT
locked
barred
paradiscal
serene
garden
back to A FUTURE
discovered
explored
ultimate
yearning
goal
My eyes' amnesia if you'd never be —
The crying like seagulls from throat unclenched,
And if those same waves go on without us
When washing away the glass from my seams,
My shaking water with us in between —
A heart moved through harpoon's death darkest drench,
Where needing viscerals bathed in light pant,
The ripping of eyes' sails beyond this sea
Love is original sight of all sight
Where lids opening shore open to hue,
Alone we were though with the going tide.
The sea melted for seagulls' holding to
As it caught contact our glistening eyes —
Long before unconscious heart ever knew.
Original sin turns into original purity
As the first undoing is underdone
And returning becomes advancing
Into a lost but remembered world
Of innocence before the rape and kidnap
And we stare no longer into the faces of fascists
But into the sunlit athletic eyes of Spring
Please thank CC Bloom,
the character
and the original heart
from the film:
‘Beaches.’
However,
I made it anyway.
I tried to get published
once,
but life in her irony
screwed me more
than twice.
When i came home i found grief instead of you.
I found pain, anger, and confusion.
But not the anger everyone is familiar with.
No.
I found the anger that felt as if it was constantly burning within me,
not wanting to let me go.
The bracelets on the kitchen side,
and the people huddled in the living room, waiting expectantly for me, my anger and confusion
to arrive like the wirlwind of emotions that they were.
Desperately wanting to tell me the news, yet somehow , deep down,
i already knew what those next few words would be.
The constant " i'm sorry's " and " i wish i could make things better for you ".
Yet each time the rage, the anger and the confusion kept growing and growing and growing until, the wirlwind of emotions turned.
Almost as if they were a river waiting to burst it's banks.
But one day, i realised that these waves of emotions were the only thing connecting me and you.
and so from now on, a piece of my heart is in heaven.
Kids should be city architects.
What a lovely world it would be ~
Every street would be magical !
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
they told her to be original
she thought about dyeing her hair with ketchup
it got all sticky and gooey
her pillowcase was a mess now
you will think of something before Halloween said her mother
her father thought all this fuss over hair was silly
he is a man
what does he know?
she wanted to do something unique
something special
something that would get her noticed
she told her girlfriends about her plans
They thought it was adorable
She walked into the dance with eighteen mini-jack-o-lanterns in her hair
thought she would be unique
she would have too
if she had not told so many people
who also thought it was a great idea
What makes you happy? What do you love?
lean towards that - Be as free as a Dove!
What makes you angry? Limited, or Vain?
Turn away from that. Cut those Ball and Chains.
What can you do with what you have right now?
Against all the Odds, can you change it round?
The first step is Cliche.. Just do what you love!
The rest will soon find you, on the Wings of a Dove.
Something oh so simple
Shows me how I’m rooted
In this life’s time and place
But with roots really out of time
I’m triggered by connections
To recall my original face
(11/16/25)
On clumsy day of morning fogg
I woke up to reality
To check my beloved sanity
A stone became the chosen one
It was picked for his services
A hard son of soft rock,
A tough block, a rough block, indeed
Destiny knows his path
Growling wind observed the scenario
First flight took Mr. Stone to few feets
The desire was to Re-release
It left my hand to reach space
My head became a Crater by double pace
The stone lives in my head since then
He was first where the headache begin!
Original Haiku by Michael R. Burch
Keywords/Tags: haiku, original, sky, breath, existence, night, dark, darkness, leaf, autumn, fall, leaves, universe, beauty, loneliness, night, stars, moon
should the sky fall,
let my last breath
praise Your existence
—Michael R. Burch
It ever was night,
yet in the darkness I found you,
shining, bright.
—Michael R. Burch
a last leaf
clinging to life
declines to fall...
—Michael R. Burch
the Universe,
dazzled by her beauty,
swoons.
—Michael R. Burch
Loneliness engulfs me
like an immense night
void of stars.
—Michael R. Burch
Crow
perched quizzically on scarecrow:
natural comedian!
—Michael R. Burch
Autumn leaves
swirling:
dreams aloft & imperiled
—Michael R. Burch
struggle to fit
into cramped too-small shoes:
tiny haiku
—Michael R. Burch
your easy smile
brightens the day
natural as wildflowers
—Michael R. Burch
a single silver leaf
on the old oak tree:
autumn moon
—Michael R. Burch
playful progeny of my creativity
the product of my muse ~
I gave it my all
AP: 1st place 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.