beat by nature,beat by birth,beat for life jazz afficienado or however ya spell it just whatever or Let it Be
Friday, December 26, 2003
its funny how words can change your life.i mean if you think about it there just shapes and noises.what makes them so powerful they can change a persons life?words i think are probably one of the most powerful things in this world. in an instant a word can make you cry,laugh or even smile.you can hate them,love them or whatever but just think these words made you think for a moment possibly impacting your life.stupid words why do you haunt me?im not here to be deep i just want to say what i think.
Buddha
i used to sit under trees and meditate
on the diamond bright silence of darkness
and the bright look of diamonds in space
and space that was stiff with lights
and diamonds shot through,and silence
and when a dog barked i took it for soundwaves
and cars passin too,and once i heard
a jet plane which i thought was a mosquito
in my heart,and once i saw salmon walls
of pine and roses,moving and ululating
with the drapish
once i forgave dogs and pitied men,sat
in the rain countin juju beads,raindrops
are ecstacy,ecstacy is raindrops-birds
sleep when the trees are giving out light
in the night,rabbits sleep too,and dogs
i had a path that i followed thru piney woods
and a phosphorescent white hound-dog named bob
who led me the way when the clouds covered
the stars,and then communicated to me
the sleepings of a loving dog enamoured
of God
on saturday mornings i was there,in the sun,,
contemplating the blue-bright air,as eyes
of lone rangers penetrated the dust
of my canyon thoughts,and indians
and children,and movie shows
or saturday morning in china when all is so fair
crystal imaginings of pristine lakes,talk
with rocks,walls with a chi-pack across
mongolias and silent temple rocks in valleys
of boulder and tarn washed clay,--SHH--
Sit and Otay
and if men were dyin or sleepin in rooftops
beyond,or frogs croaked once or thrice
to indicate supreme mystical majesty,whats
the difference?and i saw blue sky no differnet
from dead cat-and love and marraige
no differnet than mud-thats blood-
and lighted clay too-illuminated intelligent
faces of angels every where,with Dostoevskys
unease praying in their X-Brows faces,
Twisted and Great,
and many a time the buddha played a leaf
on me at midnight thinkin-time,
to remind me"This thinking has stopped"
which it had,because no thinking was there
but wasnt liquidly mysteriously brainly there
and finally i turned into a diamond stone
and sat rigid and golden,gold too-didnt dare
breathe,to break up the diamond that cant
even cut butter anyway,how brittle the diamond,
how quick returned thought,-
impossible to exist
BUDDHA Says:
"All's Possible"
Happiness is a warm gun...................................................................
Comments-[ comments.]
Buddha
i used to sit under trees and meditate
on the diamond bright silence of darkness
and the bright look of diamonds in space
and space that was stiff with lights
and diamonds shot through,and silence
and when a dog barked i took it for soundwaves
and cars passin too,and once i heard
a jet plane which i thought was a mosquito
in my heart,and once i saw salmon walls
of pine and roses,moving and ululating
with the drapish
once i forgave dogs and pitied men,sat
in the rain countin juju beads,raindrops
are ecstacy,ecstacy is raindrops-birds
sleep when the trees are giving out light
in the night,rabbits sleep too,and dogs
i had a path that i followed thru piney woods
and a phosphorescent white hound-dog named bob
who led me the way when the clouds covered
the stars,and then communicated to me
the sleepings of a loving dog enamoured
of God
on saturday mornings i was there,in the sun,,
contemplating the blue-bright air,as eyes
of lone rangers penetrated the dust
of my canyon thoughts,and indians
and children,and movie shows
or saturday morning in china when all is so fair
crystal imaginings of pristine lakes,talk
with rocks,walls with a chi-pack across
mongolias and silent temple rocks in valleys
of boulder and tarn washed clay,--SHH--
Sit and Otay
and if men were dyin or sleepin in rooftops
beyond,or frogs croaked once or thrice
to indicate supreme mystical majesty,whats
the difference?and i saw blue sky no differnet
from dead cat-and love and marraige
no differnet than mud-thats blood-
and lighted clay too-illuminated intelligent
faces of angels every where,with Dostoevskys
unease praying in their X-Brows faces,
Twisted and Great,
and many a time the buddha played a leaf
on me at midnight thinkin-time,
to remind me"This thinking has stopped"
which it had,because no thinking was there
but wasnt liquidly mysteriously brainly there
and finally i turned into a diamond stone
and sat rigid and golden,gold too-didnt dare
breathe,to break up the diamond that cant
even cut butter anyway,how brittle the diamond,
how quick returned thought,-
impossible to exist
BUDDHA Says:
"All's Possible"
Happiness is a warm gun...................................................................
