cricket song

crickets chirp and chase
the other in the early evening
and wait for none but
callling, calling,
calling for procreation
calling for darwin notion
calling for li po
calling for basho
scrape and scratch
and whistle your noises
calling for heaven
calling for nirvana
calling for all humankind

a little slice of nirvana from jack kerouac

From Dharma Bums

Jack Kerouac

The boys was glad and rested up for more,

And Jack cooked mush in honor of the door,

The boys was sitting in a grove of trees,

Listening to Buddy explain the keys,

Boys, sez he, the Dharma is a door….

Let’s see….

Boys, I say the keys,

Cause there’s lotsa keys,

But there’s only one door,

One hive for the bees.

So listen to me,

 and I’ll try to tell all,

As I heard it long ago,

in the Pure Land Hall.

For you good boys,

with wine-soaked teeth,

That can’t understand

these words on a heath,

I’ll make it simpler,

like a bottle of wine,

And a good woodfire,

Uner stars divine.

Now listen to me, and when you have learned

The Dharma of the Buddhas of old and yearned,

To sit down with the truth,

Under a lonesome tree,

In Yuma Arizony, or anywhere you be,

Don’t thank me for tellin’,

What was told to me,

This is the wheel I’m a-turnin,

This is the reason I be:

Mind is the Maker, for no reason at all,

For all this creation,

Created to fall.

On the Ward

There are no clocks

There are no calendars

Time is told only by

The calls from the nurses’ station

Hydration!

Medication!

Fresh air break!

Breakfast!

Vitals!

Hydration!

Fresh air break!

Lunch!

Vitals!

Hydration!

Fresh air break!

Hydration!

Dinner!

Until the end of the night

Dharma

The true meaning

A way of life

First-born life

Living in light

Cleric and priest

Preacher and father

Holy ones

Bodhisattvas

She saves my soul

Every day

She leads me on the path,

the light, the way

sometimes it hurts

like a stone bruise on your heel in hell's marathon

like two hands holding the bar across your chest

like a spear in the side of humanity's loss

the record's clear

the heart tells a tale
as it clings to the vines
to remind you of the costs
what could be lost with the fall

when my old friend came
walking in through the
high doors
swung open by his cold wind

pour from the palms
and the soles of the feet
we all come to thoughts
in red ransom harvest

recorded in the book of eternity
writ in warm life
pricked finger only mine
pulsing out this boy

settle old accounts
dry up the rivers dammed
and lakes lolling in
their laziness

Bonfires

Play and play and play some more
Scream out for encores in a beer stupor
Is it gonna be Skynyrd?
Is it gonna be MTB?

Bad Johnny and Willie
Played out of time and out of key
To make the Man In Black cry
And the Red-Headed Stranger weep

Captain Morgan save the night!

I'll just pack it up and go....

But not before I kick out some
Snare slap hi-hat hot foot bang bass drum
Pop stop boogie for the masses
With some psychos and a sing-song
Crooner