ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel
  • »
  • Religion and Philosophy»
  • Buddhism

Drops Of Dharma

Updated on July 13, 2012

Memory Weave

It's all gone now ...and not a clue where, or even why.
It's all memory now - comes when it wants,
leaves when it wants, breaks me down into
a hollowed, empty fearing when it wants;
keeps me in shadows ... crying in the darkness
when it wants ...
All of our secret places have vanished ...
replaced by time abandoned memories
and heart broken shadowy dreams of you;
the you I always knew would be there -
right up to the very second I knew you
would whisper to me that you had to go.
In my dreams I run my trembling fingers
down the gentle curve of your face ...
but it wasn't really you after all ... it was
only a damaged memory/thought/dream
I had built to save hope from myself,
and completely forgot to let go of ...
This intricate weaving of memory suits me
just fine after all ... it keeps me warm and toasty
when traveling these icey cold hallways
in my empty heart ... or am I in YOUR heart?

This Empty Space

I have nothing left but this empty space
between these pounding heartbeats ...
vast and deep like the greatest of oceans -
echoing the cries of enslaved dreaming ...
dreaming of nothing at all.
Laughter shattering like fragile rainbows
frozen in time gone to glass ...
and my tears shine like diamonds;
a kaleidescope of mystic visions
that make reality shiver and shatter -
The stars themselves dancing
like drops of water on a red hot iron.
I am become the very center of my reality -
the hub off all things that move me ...
It turns me to face myself, despite the fear ...
turns the rage into a wisdom of sorts,
turns out to be sly dreamshifting
to try to escape the vicious tapered teeth
of my karma.
This empty space between heartbeats
is home to a broken stickman called self,
and all of those things I have feared,
then rejected out of complete ignorance -
NOW comes the realization
and the uncontrollable laughter!

Sitting Still

Sitting still ... still sitting to tempt the quiet
back to me ... or what I've come to imagine is me;
taking a firm grasp of the night; clutching tightly ...
squeezing fistfuls of the darkness -
hoping to force any hidden light out
like stellar lemonade to slake the thirst
that comes along in this desert of reason.
Wrestling with theories and giddy with freedom
celebrating liberation from the cage of doubt
but there's little enough reason for it all -
other than the smile it all brings ...
Balancing on tip-toe, eyes downward cast
on the crumbling edge of self-discovery -
hoping sincerely to not fall into the darkness
below ... I'm not really afraid of the dark,
no matter what those shadow things
carven from stone and black icey fear say ...
Night comes to a silence so deep you can feel it ...
a mere sibilant whisper to mark the place ...
a secret passing like a swiftly dying dream;
Now here ... Now gone ... nothing but
fragile memory. And now ... not even memory
remains ... yet I'm still sitting ...sitting very still.


I’m holding my place here…hovering like a feather
Held aloft by convection currents of fear-
Slowly spinning about, silent and empty…
Emotionally fragmented by my own design.
It’s a place of familiarity and oddly placed comfort-
Colored like some rainbowed dreaming,
But sharp and viciously jagged at the edges-
Like some shattered bottle of pointless hopes.
No image coming back from the mirror now—
Only a distant shadow- faint and transparent-
Like the ghost of a half-seen vision…
Sometimes here…sometimes not;
But always catching the Minds Eye!
Still holding my place here…whirling about
Like a leaf trapped in a dust devil-
Spinning madly about like some crazed dervish
Yet still silent and empty.
Spiritually shattered by my own choices.
I’m holding my place here…
Because when it’s all said and done,
It is exactly who I have become.

Don't Know Mind

Another day flies by, chased away by yet another night -
seems as if it never ends; until with a fearful cry
we come to the awareness that we are out ...
of time completely.
I stop ... and I think ... I've always been out of time ...
outside of it completely, no tomorrows - no yesterdays;
just this infinite here and now, no beginning of it ...
no end of it ...
and I laugh out loud at being in such a hurry
to get " things " done!
Poisoned by misdirected intent and this " now "
lies wasted and ruined ... shattered like yellowed glass -
scattered like bone fragments
of some devious predator's dinner ...
and yet again, I laugh.
Holding tightly to that "Don't Know Mind"
and it all slowly drifts away -
cherry blossom petals on the back of the wind,
dewdrops vanishing in the blaze of the sun.

A Solitary Tear

I reached out and touched the solitary tear
as it rolled down the curve of your cheek...
I brought it to my lips...
tasted the saltiness and freedom lying within.
In the whirling globe of water lies an ocean-
an ocean of compassion and pain painted suffering
and I have to show my love for you
because we are both drowning
in the very same ocean of infinite wisdom.
Can you not hear the sound of these waves
as they break upon the shore of my soul?
Can you not see the light reflecting out of
it's rainbow becoming my very heart? this other shore I am gone.
Never heard...never seen...never touched...
yet never forgotten.
The taste of my thoughts is like honey and milk
set out on the seashore for the waternymphs
to set the feast...
And I am drowned in the solitary tear
rolling down the curve of your cheek...
to strike the sound of the temple bell...
the sound of life...
on the sands at your feet.

A Perfect Reality

Can't you see the way we've shattered and ripped
this Perfect Reality we're in the middle of?
An infinite expanse of time ...
broken into pieces of yesterday-tomorrow-
and completely forgotten the solidity of Now;
squandering the path on wisps of smoke
that vanish before you ...
Nothing to do now but divide the universe
into me ... and not-me, and become parent
to poisons that strike down the skill of Dreaming.
Just another slave born to the religion of Free Will,
and no one is any the wiser.
Looking skyward - cold from the long lost
heat of anger and frustration ...
and laughter springs up from Mind,
then spilling over and into the world ...
as I cut my fingers to the bone
putting back together the razored shards
of this Perfect Reality!

A Self Choice

So you've made a self-choice, a tiny defiant thrust
against the awesome God-flowing of Life around you;
Now what?
How do you go? Where is the first step on your path
of self-entranced righteousness and fear?
Closing your eyes to the smiles,
shrugging off the offered helping hand,
you march to the beat of a dissident drummer,
and in a spasm of originality call it determination.
Your heart keeps time to the rythym of the rain,
Your soul keeps writhing in the rythym of your suffering,
and when echoes finally stop coming back
you hear the bloodsong as it burns you through
and counts off the measure of your humanity.
Keep on making choices and you'll break the habit
sooner or later ... or perhaps sooner than later,
who bothers to keep track of it all?


    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    • Dani Poet profile image

      Dani Poet 6 years ago

      your writing still takes my breath and inspires me...

    • Moon Lightened profile image

      Moon Lightened 6 years ago from Delhi, India

      Really enjoyed "This Empty Space." I will definitely be back to read more.

    • Knowing Truth profile image

      Knowing Truth 6 years ago from Malaysia

      PDPoole a very creative way to present Dhamma, sadhu for the effort. Due to my ignorance, I might need your help in understand them, with metta.