if this me is not I who Am I?
If this me is I,
That appear and disappear,
Knowing life and death,
Feeling depressed by pain and
inflated by pleasure,
Fatigue by the strain and compressed by pressure,
is it that I,
Colony of cells,
every instant one cell die,
and one take birth? If buddha told, he is void and
universe too,
Who spoke to whom?
Is it Buddha or some one more
wise than Buddha spoke?
Is it to ignorant mob he spoke, Or to joblessly and meaninglessly
to void? In this plane when I believe,
this me is I am,
It is true at this level,
If not then I am above this
plane!
Starting journey as part of universe,
Changing robe after robe,
Shedding old skin acquiring new,
I grow to maturity,
where drops wisdom leak from
heaven, through my skull and fills brain,
I grow to what I am!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Related quotes
Buddha Born, Buddha Dying!
the buddha in me
looks like the buddha in you,
smells like, tastes like,
feels like, talks like....
i feel your need,
for you are part of mine.
you taught me about love,
when you were hurting.
the buddha in me,
reaches out to the buddha in you.
we inhale and exhale,
and night becomes day.
the buddha in you,
the question and the answer.
each a part of the other,
one must be for both to be.
the buddha in me, the buddha in you...
light born of darkness,
darkness comforts light.
the buddha born, the buddha dying,
no difference, no loss,
the journey goes on.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Buddha Within....
Buddha's tears...
on the faces of every
hungry child in the world.
Buddha's emptiness,
in the hearts of every
person who has no home.
Buddha's sorrow,
in the eyes of every
victim of the bombings.
Buddha's silence,
at the roar of every
religious fanatic.
Buddha's compassion,
in the dirt of every
human being fallen.
Buddha's forgiveness,
in the anger of every
person driven by prejudice.
Buddha within,
seeks to evolve!
Buddha within,
just to be!
Buddha within,
already there.
Buddha within,
always has been!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Buddha Eyes
Buddha eyes,
seeing beyond the visible,
and beneath the crust.
Buddha ears,
hearing what is not said
wrapped in the spoken.
Buddha thoughts,
connecting with all thoughts,
creating and forming.
Buddha heart,
feeling every beat of every heart
inside each beat of my own.
Buddha freedom,
letting go of...
becoming a part of!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Just Picked Up Your Trash!
the squirrel,
climbing the tree,
is buddha.
as is the cloud,
covering the sun.
the mountain is buddha,
as is the pebble...
and the river is buddha,
with the illusion of flowing.
you are buddha,
your enemy is buddha.
your lover is buddha,
as is the crap you just took!
do you see what you see?
do you taste what you taste?
do you smell what you smell?
do you feel what you feel?
or are you each of these?
enlightenment just picked up your trash!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Awakening The Buddha
this chanting to the bronze buddha
done with sincerity awakens the buddha in the self
the buddha that comes to one's own salvation
the one chanted to, remains as the buddha
in the world of absolute nothingness
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Buddha Within
the Buddha within
waits just beyond
everything we do
to avoid seeing ourselves!
the Buddha within
has no color or creed,
no political party,
is totally human.
the Buddha within
is the pathway that joins
the tongue to the heart,
the eyes to the spirit...
the hands to the infinite!
the Buddha within,
not owned, never owning;
not held by the few,
the home, and the gift...
the expression of humanity
making love to life!
sameness, unity, freedom!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Words!
it has been said
that God spoke worlds
into being...
and that Jesus
was the word of God.
that we are created
in the image of God...
that we are the dreams
of God made flesh...
yet we open our mouths,
and nothing happens!
bats hang from the rafters
of our souls.
we speak, windows rattle,
and wars begat wars.
we write with invisible ink!
no cosmos, no stars,
only hunger and despair.
our words close the door,
and choose to be strangers.
we shout, and graves are dug,
we whisper, and no one hears!
could it be that true word
is written in silence,
spoken in awareness,
breaks concepts, tears down walls.
and we who live in fear,
running from the image of our selves,
cannot touch the source,
and have forgotten the breast.
speak worlds into being,
or speak this one into destruction?
spirit becomes flesh,
and blooms or decays.
choice?
awareness, and silence,
crucifixion, and fire.
Buddha spoke, Jesus listened,
Jesus spoke, Buddha listened...
perhaps we could learn!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Lotus-roots
Lotus-roots
I was then a prisoner of death
-face of hundreds and thousands from birth
I was then I dreamer of name
-treasure and wealth; title and fame
I was then hunger of discipline, education and training
-the aim for growth and maturity and learning
I was then on state I thought of what is health and good
-thus, the great Buddha against the fraud
Note:
Inspired from the four “Noble Truth”
taught by Gautama Buddha, the “Enlightened One”.
poem by Jordan Legaspi
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Being Boiled
Listen to the voice of Buddha
Saying stop your sericulture
Little people like your offspring
Boiled alive for some God's stocking
Buddha's watching, Buddha's waiting
Just because the kid's an orphan is no excuse for thoughtless slaying
Children, don't forget this torture just because you call her mother
Doesn't mean that she's your better
Once more with the voice of Buddha
He'll say carry on your slaughter
Who cares for the little children?
You may slice with no conviction
Blind revenge on a blameless victim
Listen to the voice of Buddha
Saying stop your sericulture
Who cares for the little children?
You may slice with no conviction
Blind revenge on a blameless victim
Listen to the voice of Buddha
Listen to the voice of Buddha
Listen to the voice of Buddha
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Being Boiled
Ok, ready. let's do it
Listen to the voice of buddha
Saying stop your sericulture
Little people like your offspring
Boiled alive for some god's stocking
Buddha's watching, buddha's waiting
Just because the kid's an orphan
Is no excuse for thoughtless slaying
Children don't forget this torture
Just because you call her mother
Doesn't mean that she's your better
Once more with the voice of buddha
He'll say carry on your slaughter
Who cares for the little children
You may slice with no conviction
Blind revenge on a blameless victim
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Between the Creator and Me
I look through my body
at the world, the stars, moons,
stars beyond stars
I know there are stars, moons
stars beyond stars too
circling all within my finite self
this temporary sphere I am crowned with
the aura that shines from these
trillion of cells
all the moving atoms,
electrons, protons,
the universe inside and out
I look at them
from my infinite self
god the puppeteer
skillfully playing
the beginning, the end
I came out of the two walls
the human brain is kept in
to take a peep at myself, the universe
the moons, suns, universe,
stars beyond stars
I find a galaxy I possess
so many stars, moons, suns
the cells blazing with life, light
all working out of my control
as I join god to take
a look at his worlds
a meteor flashes by
a cell loses hold
flushed by blood to another world
all the stars, moons,
universe outside and inside
all the cells that I own
that soon would squeeze me out
to join the plane
where I could view
the beat of the universe
standing beside god
witnessing all his designs
wondering all the motives
behind his pupputeering
the moons, the suns, the universe
the cells acting out his drama round and round
casting off light
I saw a star burst
light light years away
the cancer patient
carrying a cell
that too has burst
soon to cast that black hole
over the finite self
the infinite journeys to
rest on another finite self
the universe
I stand by the creator
to look at his puppeteering
wondering his motives in his design
my mind flying outside the brain
I look at the the world, universe,
stars, moon, meteors, stars beyond stars
and myself that
swing with stars, moons,
stars beyond stars
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Outside Myself
I look through my body
at the world, the stars, moons,
stars beyond stars
I know there are stars, moons
stars beyond stars too
circling all within my finite self
this temporary sphere I am crowned with
the aura that shines from these
trillion of cells
all the moving atoms,
electrons, protons,
the universe inside and out
I look at them
from my infinite self
god the puppeteer
skillfully playing
the beginning, the end
I came out of the two walls
the human brain is kept in
to take a peep at myself, the universe
the moons, suns, universe,
stars beyond stars
I find a galaxy I possess
so many stars, moons, suns
the cells blazing with life, light
all working out of my control
as I join god to take
a look at his worlds
a meteor flashes by
a cell loses hold
flushed by blood to another world
all the stars, moons,
universe outside and inside
all the cells that I own
that soon would squeeze me out
to join the plane
where I could view
the beat of the universe
standing beside god
witnessing all his designs
wondering all the motives
behind his pupputeering
the moons, the suns, the universe
the cells acting out his drama round and round
casting off light
I saw a star burst
light light years away
the cancer patient
carrying a cell
that too has burst
soon to cast that black hole
over the finite self
the infinite journeys to
rest on another finite self
the universe
I stand by the creator
to look at his puppeteering
wondering his motives in his design
my mind flying outside the brain
I look at the the world, universe,
stars, moon, meteors, stars beyond stars
and myself that
swing with stars, moons,
stars beyond stars
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Buddha says;
The Buddha said:
We must open ourselves to the world
Knowing that what we sense about the world
Is Maya.
and the pupil asked: If what we see is an illusion
then what is the purpose of opening to lies?
The Buddha answered To open our inner eye
to the truth which is found by emptying oneself
of all that you know about the world.
the pupil asked: If all that we see is misrepresented
then what is the use of inquiry?
The Buddha said: You have already asked that question
What is the use of repeating the answer?
poem by George Murdock
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Lord Buddha
Buddha roared like a lion
and thundered upon the world
the message of love and karunaa
Buddha was as loving as the kangaroo
He wanted to carry the groaning world
in the bag close to her belly
to reach them to nirvaana
Buuddha showed up in the world
as if from nowhere
just as a snake does
Buddha hit the world with his fangs
and then suddenly disappeared from the world
just as a snake does
Was he real or was he a figment
of the ailing earths dream
Was the world drug addict?
Did the world drink hemlock to drains
to make a Buddha in its own image?
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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The River Is Never The Same
Buddha Universe of Good
Embodiment of Peace, purely understood
All things come, and instantly have passed away
Right Now; Tomorrow; Yesterday
Gaze upon the world - your soul is Awake
Meditate until the Ego breaks
You cannot die if you were never born
and this is true, the Quantum Buddha has sworn
The river is never the same
As the pages turn they wear away
Oblivion and Death are the kindle and flame
to Life itself - in it's endless Forms and Names
The River is never the same
as the pages turn they wear away
The waves crash on but, the Ocean is Still
In dreams we're Asleep, but also Awake
The gentle sky is blue; Perennial;
And it's just as Real as it is Fake.
(late 2011/early 2012)
poem by Ray Quesada
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Nobody Spoke (for Karen)
Nobody spoke to Lucy,
nobody spoke at all,
ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
nobody spoke
for five long years
ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
Lucy withdrew
without a clue
why nobody spoke,
nobody spoke
for five long years,
nobody spoke
Ain't no joke
nobody spoke!
Lucy went mad
she went crazy!
She screamed
she cried, she sobbed,
but nobody spoke,
for five long years
Ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
Many years later
she saw them,
those people she wanted
to be her friends.
but ain't no joke
nobody spoke,
nobody spoke
for five long years.
Ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
Lucy left a note
in daddy's drawer,
put on her very best dress.
Did her hair in a very fine way
and walked into the hall as a guest.
She walked up to the folk
that never spoke,
said hello in an ordinary way,
then she pulled out a gun
and opened fire.
Yes she shot all those folk
on that day.
Now they were silent
now they were still,
cos ain't no joke
that nobody spoke
and now
they never will.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Wisdom is the path to God
There is suffering and a cause for it.
There is an end and a path for it.
You are the cause. Wisdom is the path.
To view, to think, to speak, to behave,
To live, to act, to feel and to attend,
You should employ wisdom, wisdom alone.
Then mounts and valleys look flat.
Buddha is the Guide, not the God.
The Dharma is the path, not Karma.
The Sangas are only the companions,
Who can take you through eight paths.
To where? Lord Buddha did not say it.
02.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Let us think, Who we are?
Let us clarify ourselves,
Are we here to Earn Self?
Are we here really,
Then who are we,
From where we come here,
If we look at the evolution of life, Everycell in our body is living,
Body is colony of cells,
Each cell performing its duty,
Without knowing the final result,
A cell may not be knowing who
is master of this body, From where it gets food,
Who removes the garbage and
waste, It is I am that dwelling here,
Identifying myself as colony of
cells,
Feeding it, using it and enjoying
fruits,
Happiness and pain!
isn't it clear that we are not
the body?
We are not the mind that depend
the capital city,
Of this colony,
The brain in the head,
Still look at are we physiological
and psychological wonder,
Or are we wonder beyond these
all?
Aren't we the root cause of all
wonder, Creating these wonder out of
elements? Limiting ourselves is our own
fault,
We are master of our own,
Yet we live like slaves of our own
creation!
Look at what we call as grace of God!
Isn't it our own purity,
Our own mastery,
Or own fight against odds,
The result of battle between
real and unreal is graceful than any grace?
God will look at you with neutrality,
As neutrality and impartiality are his qualities,
Just He is witness to what you are!
You are the Self of universe,
Everywhere you confuse yourself with time and space,
Get confused with colonies,
Just widen own consciousness,
You are that who has that capacity,
Once learn that you are the lord,
See that Lord in everyone,
Every knowledge is yours,
Because same truth lies behind everything,
as consciousness that lives in you as your core!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Austerity / Girl One (Medley)
Listen to the voice of Buddha
Saying stop your sericulture
Little people like your offspring
Boiled alive for some gods stocking
Buddha's watching, Buddha's waiting
Just because the kid's an orphan
Is no excuse for thoughtless slaying
People don't forget this torture
Just because you call her mother
Doesn't mean that she's your better
Once more with the voice of Buddha
He'll say carry on your slaughter
Who cares for the little children
You may slice with no conviction
Blind revenge on a blameless victim
Listen to the voice of Buddha
Saying stop your sericulture
He'll say carry on your slaughter
Who cares for the little children
You may slice with no conviction
Blind revenge on a blameless victim
Listen to the voice of Buddha (repeat three times)
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Buddha Said Something About Emptiness (A Poem For Halley)
Buddha said something about Emptiness
The Middle Path's the way i guess
hit the Zen Master back to pass his test
fall in love with your life - forget the rest
Silent Flower Sermons are always best
Of a 'Living Yoga', Huxley spoke
we're born in death - it's all a joke
our senses will fool us until we croak
God stuck a stick in my bicycle spokes.
poem by Ray Quesada
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