Peter Prasad's Blog: Expletives Deleted - Posts Tagged "enlightenment"
Taxation, Representation & Me
Today's drool is dedicated to the poor sods sitting across from their CPA or tax prep clerk, wondering how the gov'mint can take so much of my money to spend on bullets and war. You may feel safer; I feel broke.
It got me to wondering if I can afford to die yet. Prolly not. I sense there's a huge unpaid invoice out there hunting for me. It's not fair to leave it for my kids; they cry enuf all ready. So I'll stick around, drunk on the promise of making a living polishing words.
Well, the library was closed, again, so I wrote a poem. I appologize in advance. This is not the witty, urbane draft I had in mind, but sum'pin got the better of me. Dang if I know. So here goes:
SET YOUR CABOOSE LOOSE
Enlightenment as Buddhists say,
The Big E, may be closer than you think.
What if we can have a taste every day?
Moments of serene calm, moments of bliss,
Moments of sharing in the joy of others,
Moments of divine connectedness.
So, Dad, how can you do that?
Before we begin on dying,
Which we began at birth,
We’re here on a two-way ticket.
We roared in and got off at the station
With our karmic suitcases in our hands.
Before we’re done, a high-ballin’ express
Comes to collect, so let’s train for that.
Cuz’ when that mind moment arrives
I'll take a last breath an’ make my leap of faith.
God help me find my GPS, charged an’ workin’
Splat beyond the most conscious moment in my life.
I promise, Ja-hesus, to be a good scout, no pout,
Be prepared the handbook say, so I rehearse an’
Befriend the caretaker sweeping dust
From the fast tracks of my past.
Okay, I'm sorry, again. So shouts out to my favorite Critical Bitch Bunch in Sonoma where we read each other slow with strong coffee and a sharp red pencil.
Huzzah you creatures of the craft! See that bum sittin' on the bench? It might be me. So help a drunk zen poet get a bagel...
Campaign Zen: 500bc - 2012.
It got me to wondering if I can afford to die yet. Prolly not. I sense there's a huge unpaid invoice out there hunting for me. It's not fair to leave it for my kids; they cry enuf all ready. So I'll stick around, drunk on the promise of making a living polishing words.
Well, the library was closed, again, so I wrote a poem. I appologize in advance. This is not the witty, urbane draft I had in mind, but sum'pin got the better of me. Dang if I know. So here goes:
SET YOUR CABOOSE LOOSE
Enlightenment as Buddhists say,
The Big E, may be closer than you think.
What if we can have a taste every day?
Moments of serene calm, moments of bliss,
Moments of sharing in the joy of others,
Moments of divine connectedness.
So, Dad, how can you do that?
Before we begin on dying,
Which we began at birth,
We’re here on a two-way ticket.
We roared in and got off at the station
With our karmic suitcases in our hands.
Before we’re done, a high-ballin’ express
Comes to collect, so let’s train for that.
Cuz’ when that mind moment arrives
I'll take a last breath an’ make my leap of faith.
God help me find my GPS, charged an’ workin’
Splat beyond the most conscious moment in my life.
I promise, Ja-hesus, to be a good scout, no pout,
Be prepared the handbook say, so I rehearse an’
Befriend the caretaker sweeping dust
From the fast tracks of my past.
Okay, I'm sorry, again. So shouts out to my favorite Critical Bitch Bunch in Sonoma where we read each other slow with strong coffee and a sharp red pencil.
Huzzah you creatures of the craft! See that bum sittin' on the bench? It might be me. So help a drunk zen poet get a bagel...
Campaign Zen: 500bc - 2012.
Expletives Deleted
We like to write and read and muse awhile and smile. My pal Prasad comes to mutter too. Together we turn words into the arc of a rainbow. Insight Lite, you see?
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