This is my house

I will not dust and tidy it up

Nor shall I leave weary lamps lit for someones’ chance stopping in

The paint is cracked and worn, but time will do that; it is natural

I will not apologize if it does not fit in, does not function to your

standards or if the appearance is lacking “happiness”

It is filled with all sorts odd things that you will not approve of

Things that will surely offend, petrify, terrorize and most certainly chip

away at your sensible, civilized ego



But it is also filled with wonders from all the ages

Things that human beings have desired from their birth of consciousness

Stories that will inspire, swoon and swell a forgotten heart

Caverns of darkness and unexplored fathoms of time and space



You are always welcome here, my dear friend

But just remember one thing;

This is my house


for i mes ra bulls



Absolute maitri

In the natural state

all is welcomed

and allowed

While to many

this speaks of bliss

beauty and dancing

it also includes

pain, torment and agony



sympathetic joy


Winter Dathun

Let in by a star

dark, silent beauty of night

we became the shrines

But what about…



Yes sir, I see the bulging billfold;

the flash of your bodily decorations,

 loud, sure tone, in which you speak.

But what of the silence?

What does it say to you?


Yes, I’ve noticed the thousands of facts memorized

and perfectly timed quotes you deliver..

But what of the silence?

Who does it speak of?


And yes, I have taken note of your perfect posture;

wearing the right pendants and clothing

and moving ever so slowly…

But what of the silence?

That which does not speak to form or concept.


What of the silence?


I & I



The mediator,

of scholar-practitioner?

…warmth and compassion.



Three dance steps involved

to vajra-like samadhi

are already known



Karuna, the dance

The sweet music of prajna

Wisdom the setting