Poetic sweepings from a business trip to NYC

Up too early this morning wondering what was my modus operandi.

The gates of hell have been awakened by America’s hubris, childlike fascination with power and indulgence.

How to write for this conundrum?

I get on the web and I am sucked between Kali’s legs, into a lotus pond and I am unable to articulate human dharma.

I become a passive receptacle of Eros and I am bottom feeding.

I have to keep the big picture with the same intensity as our culture lurches to lose sight of it.

Om Mani Padme Hung



New York has a promise for me.

I can feel it in the commotion.

Maybe it is time to move there and do my master’s program under the tutelage of the D.L.

After all, I haven’t burned him out as far as I can tell.

Perhaps I should write him and ask him to intercede with Shenphen Dawa Rinpoche.

I could do my retreat at O.C.D. and reclaim my acre of land.

Take the pressure off the Yarlung dynasty.

OM AH HUNG VAJRA GURU PEMA TOD TRENG TSAL VAJRA SAMAYA DZA SIDDHI PALA HUNG AH


Stoned perspectives seem real but often end up bleak,

Especially when they are adroit.

Intoxication makes it a dream.

Maybe the dreams are not so bad in the big picture, but in the day to day they don’t pay the rent.

It’s time to get it together.

Be a man and surrender to the law of karma.

What goes around comes around.

Sleep begets sleep.

Time to wake up.

HRIDHIHRIDHIHRIDHI


Lilli Lotus has her finger on the family nervous system.

She is our barometer of interface.

Yesterday was crazy.

She combed into the matrix.

Appearing, disappearing.

She moves fast.

I must respect the Goddess.

This will be Dad’s chore/honor; and in the discipline we will heal and become family and live in delightful Peace.

GURU HARINISA SIDDHI HUNG


Today I will check out the client’s list and send responses.

Books and authors, authors and books, eggs and chickens.

I need to write my book even though so many do.

It is an old worn promise that begs my muse.

A great writer is her or his own muse.

No need to wait.

Just do it.

HUNG PHAT


Also, I have got to register the X-90.

A car, looks like half a car and makes people stare.

All across the nation, I know, I just drove it to Taos from NYC.

But what about the freaking horse.

I swore I would be riding one by now. I paid good money.

No more gasoline, voting for war by spending dollars.

Ugh. To ride or not to ride?

This is not a question. There is no choice.

They want us to use oil cause they don’t want the traditional paradigm of control to be available.

Horses were and still must be the production manager of the colonial invasion which is an unresolved paradigm.

George and gang for a hundred years have hoodwinked us into industrial yoga fueled by dinosaur bones.

Horses reflect the ‘now’ and where the earth is really at.

Etheric zombies, we rarely get around to the truth of our quest.

From one fill up to the next, we stumble around the planet crushing indigenous culture, opening doors to demons and then feeding them our fuel.

This is not a long term plan.

Looking back at the roots of our landlord consciousness and how we got to be standing so firm on the land we possess,

Our partner in crime was the horse who awed the aboriginals and who always brought us to water.

George and gang are freaked by horses because they don’t want to share the American Dream.

With their palsied ambitions they can’t rule us from the mount of a horse.

So they banish horses and the trick us into using oil.

This must stop.

The planet can’t take the heat.

The cool demeanor of the horse will cool the planet.

The horse will teach us to walk again and to find the healing path.

It should be a felony to call heroin, ‘horse’.

Everybody! Own a horse and give the land back to the people.

OM AH HUNG


My dried and cured sage sticks didn’t sell so well in NYC this time,

Probably due to the run in with Alissandra.

She wiped her nose on the smoke and challenged the building that holds her captive.

Nothing much gave way but Tibetan lamas did show to see what’s up.

It was all good but didn’t help sales.

Next time I will bring the fresh moist sage.

Works better and is less violent.

The perfume suffuses in mystery and clears out the demonic.

So does Alissandra….

I have not seen a dakini dance like hers since I woke up at the hippie truck stop in
Oregon.

That lady is a volcano of bliss …and when she’s not looking in a mirror

She is singing reality songs.

OM TAM SOHA


Sweet Lady of the Light

SunMoonStar

Why must we remain so far.

There are tempting dish’s everywhere.

I am in this for the long haul.

SARWA SIDDHI HUNG


Is it T.T. or is it me? (Tarthang Tulku)

That is the question.

I must make an effort, I must at least call.

The number is right here in the temple with its own nicho.

I seek the light and he was first to sooth my charred nervous system.

Coincidence or not, do I need to touch base?

It’s like going up to George Bush Jr. and asking for a favor.

Which is more exciting and which is more dangerous?

Libra question.

It is like charting a course into rough waters with flimsy yoga.

‘but just could be the thing that tweaks a right circumstance for world peace and spreading Holy Dharma.

OM AH HUNG VAJRA GURU PADMA SIDDHI HUNG


Guru yoga with Caesar and Christ.

How Biblical.

OM MANI PADMA HUNG