The Buddha taught the proper view:
Not to project essences on things.
And yet: I radiate, knowing it’s wrong to do.
The Buddha taught the proper view.
A stone’s a stone: a bird’s a bird; and you are you.
I meditate on how this separation stings.
The Buddha taught the proper view,
Not to project essences on things.
In the mountains, surrounded by mountains,
Buddha.
In the city, surrounded by folk,
Buddha.
Truly, then, nothing to transcend!
Siddhartha as a boy is willful:
shirks his chores and doesn’t listen
to his Mom — who maybe knows,
but doesn’t really care that his en-
lightenment one day inspires
a needful world. Instead, she’d quite
prefer Siddhartha do his homework.
Tell me (she says) this enlight-
enment, it pays? You’ll need a job,
it’s no fun living always tighten-
ing your belt, believe you me.
At least a fall-back when enlighten-
ment won’t make ends meet! — It’s well
Siddhartha pays no mind, content
to poke about, mindfully aimless,
ambling toward enlightenment.
The King was rude – nobody ruder –
Until the day he met the Buddha.
“Bow before me!” quoth the King;
The Buddha said, “Await the spring.”
“My word is law,” the King proclaimed.
Said Buddha, “Silence won’t be named.”
The King decreed, “Off with his head!”
And Buddha promptly fell down dead.
But from that day, forever after,
The King can’t sleep for hearing laughter.
Bag of Anything 