Resistance is Futile?by Muttering Madzub

Resistance is Futile? by Muttering Madzub

My human self resisting, insisting
Yammers on and on and on,
Perpetually relentless, pointless, noise
feeding on, holding on to its own nonexistence
Thoughts of self and self-centered delusion
Clutter the environment of Being

The Borg of chaotic humming mind voices
recite the futility mantra with finality and certainty
obscuring attention, distracting, attracting,
detracting from Being and compassion,
propagating, cloning thought zombies
suck life-force and disseminate suffering.

The battle for Mind is elusive and illusive
Narcissistic self, loves to engage in pointless battles
to achieve imagined victories
from image-nations, and hoards of inner demons
Attention is the vorpal blade
That slays the “Jabberwock”* “with eyes of flame”.*

Fear used by imagined self
creates a milieu of morass
Fetters of phantasms dissolve
when attention’s light
pierces darkened enslavement
to self that does not exist

The “Only Thing We Have to Fear Is Fear Itself”?**
fear has no self to fear
self has no self to fear
self has no fear to fear
no existence to protect or project
no dots to connect

Can’t figure it out
Deduce, produce, induce…perhaps seduce?
Machinations of meanings meted out ad nauseum
Puking out explanations of self infatuation
No out to figure, no figure to out
Just attention to moment being

“Being just this moment, compassion’s way.”***

* JABBERWOCKY, Lewis Carroll
(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)

**“Only Thing We Have to Fear Is Fear Itself”: FDR’s First Inaugural Address
*** Joko Beck

Sitting with Samsara

By Muttering Madzub

Sitting with Samsarawatching waves go by.
Illusion and fantasy follow rivulets and eddies
that disappear as the current
carries the dream remnants
to the great ocean of forgetting

Samsara beckons me to join her babbling waters
voices calling me to leave
the pool where I sit.
The journey of the stream is so enticing
But when I bow to quench my thirst
My mouth is dry and wanting.

Samsara, maiden of mist and smoke
You promise your heart
yet spurn your lovers
as they fawn over you.
Your cruel intentions are veiled
with sweet lies.

Love is not in you Samsara,
Your capacity for intimacy
is shadowed by your ego.
No place for any other in your bed
Yet you bed all
with your siren call.

Samsara, you rise to slip into your element
And motion me to follow
Your desires drip like honey
Sweet without sustenance.
I am enticed, yet,
My desire is elsewhere.

Samsara my heart has found the Other
The One that sits quietly inside me
waiting for my attention.
I feel the Presence of ancient arms
Embracing and holding me
Enfolding me in crystal luminescence.

No attachment
No thought
No path
No dream
No suffering
No Samsara

Two Towers Falling

Two towers falling
Violence from the sky destroys illusion
Shiva and Kali dance
People, papers and ash
falling like leaves
from exalted dreams of surety

Planes of existence shatter megalithic gods,
Iconoclastic engines of mass destruction strike
to remind us of our preoccupations and presuppositions
Smoke and fire bellow from our bellies
combustion chambers filled with karmic excrement
that we refuse to acknowledge in ourselves

Impermanence burns in the nostrils
of all who breathe the fetid vapors.
We who witness our destruction
find explanations of terrorism plots
hollow and demeaning
without tenor or comfort

We are the fires of our own destruction
The murderers, the sheikhs and the robber barons
There are no victims,
no perpetrators of horrific acts…
Except when we choose to turn away
From the reflection that burns away Samsara

We the children of the bomb, offspring of destruction
We have unleashed unfathomable and uncontrollable forces in ourselves.
Justification of righteous vengeance focused outward, striking inward,
leaving us blind and toothless, unable to take in sustenance
The enemy that we seek we are.
The friend that we seek we are.

Only compassion can fill the void,
the crater left from our arrogance.
Violence and destruction melts
every moment we choose equanimity
Widows and orphans reunite in love
Sympathetic joy flowers in barren wombs.

Meta
Karuna
Mudita
Upekkha