Monk-ee-See

The Dalai Lama traveled to talk
at the University, and it was good
to hear it was no celebrity.
He spoke of "dialogue"
let me repeat-
He spoke of "dialogue"

Not many of us wonder
or need to know
our full thoughts

The way we treat
Others
could be better-granted
territories are gone-
None go out of their way or think
of crossing invisible lines

Surprised to see none like me-
not unique-just unanimously rejected
for some thoughts of me
I didn't see
coming or going

Not knowing our position
we listen to Others
who guide us to Do Unto Others
as if we knew the same treatment
worked wonders on Others.

Conversely,
speaking drowns out listening,
when we worry about what we will say
when it is our turn

The Dalai Lama was dripping like a wet sponge
in the high humidity here.
He was not yet acclimated to hear
his humid reception,
and the excessive
precipitation of June gloom.



Painting by Peder Balke (1864) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Add ages

Don't let them tell you

You had just one job,

they always expected more.

They say, Just be yourself,

as though given a choice.

Stand up for yourself.

Don't believe enough is ever enough,

it is only enough.

The first bird and the last owl

awake

are equal aviators

afflicted with (chronic) fomo-curious-itosis.

Silver bullets and linings should help save us

before things change anymore.

We have nothing better to do

than keep busy, make haste and donate

to causes

we make no effect on reason

such as why the wherewithall has

deteriorated and became dilapidated into

three-wheeling metallic adages.

Don't ask. Don't listen. Don’t look Back.

Don't do them.

Reason is revived with hind-

sight. You will see later.

The Truth

will set you free

to follow your heart,

to do what you love,

to be mindful,

to forgive and forget

Thyself

and rest in peace

lying down.

Take it.

Your Time

is up.

Painting by Édouard Manet [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Echo-interpretation

Few knew
how little we were
hoping to be noticed

Not that
they wanted more
and less to be seen
here

Some found
they never heard
(of) the likes of you
before

Some sought
outside as outcasts
too frigidly
accommodating

Some stayed
in place and inside
by the fire
alit with artistic rage

Not many
more than we
can handle
touching
poetry
without scalding
the tips

And know
none pine
for ringing cedars, pet rocks
or chop words, but quarry
here
for the echo...


Image of painting By Adolf Mosengel (1837-1885) (Dorotheum) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.