Saved from Dukkha*

There will be
silence while
you wait.
Thanks for
your
patience.
(L.L. Bean)

*Dukkha

Being a Mother

Being a mother
means eating
cold food.

Cuddling

They cuddled close to each other
after being separated for just a
few hours.

Is Buddhism Lots of Work?

He asked
if Buddhism
was lots
of work.

Much less
than suffering
was the
answer.

Tired=Tried

She closed
her eyes
because she
was tired* &
tried* to go to
sleep.

(second arm fell off)

*tired=tried

Two Chairs, Part II

The old chairs waited
two days by the curb
for a new home.
Either the garbage men
took them for reincarnation
or someone recognized
their plight & gave them
a new home.

See: http://mrkimmosleywrite.blogspot.com/2008/02/attachment.html
for part one.

Buddha Mirror

I worked hard
all day to find
the buddha* in
everyone. Then
I glanced in the
mirror and saw
myself.

*buddha=awakened one or enlightened one

Shifting Stuff

As I sort
& shift thru
my stuff,
life passes
me by.

Cleaning House

He looked at
all that he
had brought
home and
wondered if he
could find
peace in it
all.

Cut off the flow of time

He wondered when it would
happen
then a moose appeared on
the road & he
forgot the past
and the future &
the road was all moose.
It
was
the
time that
was stuck
by the moose
in the pipe. He gripped
the faucet & turned it
hard, squeezing another
drop of time from the pipe.

The Sound of Silence

Done at the Mid-America Buddhist Association during a meditation retreat.

To Comprehend a Nectar

This is based on a poem by Emily Dickinson.
Understanding is sometimes what we do instead of becoming intimate.

Kim

Disattachment

I had two chairs for
many years. They could
no longer be part
of our lives. I took
them 2 3 thrift stores.
They would not take them
so I put them out in the
street hoping someone
would pick them up.

This was
the only chair
that I could use
to make art.

Reinforcement

P.S. One of the
chairs was put out
for the garbage truck
in 1969. I rescued it
and gave it a good life.
I don't
remember about chair
number two...except
I believe I took
it apart and painted
it because it was rusted.

The White Bread Kid

Mary had it all.

She was a white bread
kid with not a worry
until her stomach started
to get big when she was 12.

William Blake described such events in his inspirational illustrations and poems in the Songs of Innocence.

The Non-Compassionate Man

This piece is dedicated to Kon Ichikawa,
who died yesterday at 92.
He did a wonderful film in 1956
called The Burmese Harp.

Instead of staying around 2
bury the dead, he went home
to his wife and son.

P.S. The film presents an
ethical challenge to the
adage, "love afar is spite
at home."

Sad Bread

I made the bread very sad when
I picked just one piece to draw.
I assured the other pieces that
I could have selected
them just as well,
But my words were in vein (sic).

Bread and Butter

They asked me if I wanted
some bread. I said no but
they brought it anyway and
I said thank you. I thought
about eating it, but decided
to draw it instead.

No News is Good News

When they are off and away,
we pray for good news,
but more than that,
we pray for no news,
knowing when silence prevails,
they are all right.

The phone rings and we jump,
relieved that it is not bad news,
but rather relieved to hear someone
who doesn't want to sell anything,
who just wants to do a survey.

We want to be there,
at their beck and call
but know deep in our hearts
that they need to explore another world
now that they have conquered ours.

Who said that life was easy,
devoid of anticipation and suffering?
Who said that life was permanent,
and that all would play out
according to Hoyle?

Not me, said the frog.

Yesterday and Today's Art

I did this on Saturday night but it is today's art because I only have one art in me each day.

This is today's art. It is ok that I do this today because who I was going to be yesterday is not who I became today.

Shooting Range

The Buddhist said he could be calm
until he drove past the shooting range
that would cause him to shudder
for two or three miles.

He talked of the Dali Lama
as the only living leader for peace.
He said that the DL refused
to be a government leader
because he refused to take a position
on issues.

Then another bullet was shot
and his attention wained
for a few minutes
until we passed the winery.

God's Plan

Change is a (Painful) Adventure

Dogs, Part III

We parted with our dogs yesterday.
I drove them to the farm of a rescue
group in Kimmswick. It was not easy,
especially since the little one
cried most of the way. The other one
enjoyed the ride, but then freaked
out when she got there.

I won't get into the subsequent
phone calls from the rescue group
after I left them, but we were
consoled by the fact that we
were better human parents than
dog parents. I will say that our
dogs were not as social as the
other dogs.

On the way I saw a horrific
car accident in the making
on the opposite side of the
highway. It must have been
just a fraction of a second
that I saw it, but I keep
rerunning the tape over and
over. I searched on the news
for more information but could
not find it.

Here's Zoe:

They are looking for a good home for her.

I have a feeling that there will
be a Dogs, Part IV. Until then,
we'll be dogless except in our minds.

Voting on a Rainy Day

I went to vote today
after my friend called
because she was so worried
that her candidate wouldn't win.

I didn't especially like any
of the prospective presidents,
so it wasn't that easy,
to say the least.

A large woman,
working for the polls,
stood over me
looking like she'd crack my knuckles
if I didn't vote for the right person.

I told her that she wasn't supposed
to be looking at me voting.
She slightly turned her head away
and I proceeded to make my mark.

No Politics Today

It is warm,
and the snow is melting,
evaporating into the
soil to make mud,
and into the air to
make a dense Japanese fog.

No politics today,
though the fog is
appropriate for tomorrow,
Super Tuesday, they call it,
when we'll get one step
closer to clarifying who
will be our new leader.

As we walk through the fog,
profound shifting occurs.
What was clear becomes obscured,
and what was lost in the fog
becomes crystal clear.

The candidates madly become
something for everyone,
hoping to entice one sector after
another to vote for them.

I'm not sharing their ambitions.
It doesn't sound like my
cup of tea.

The Medicare Argument

Some argue that a national
health plan would work
for all Americans,
"just look at Medicare,"
they say.

Medicare does work
for the recipients,
unless they happen
to be hospitalized
more than sixty days.

Then it is lights off
for those not independently
wealthy.

But who pays for Medicare?
Doctors and hospitals receive
very little for Medicare
patients, causing them to
overcharge others. If the
government controlled prices
on all health plans, like
they do on Medicare, doctors
might have to become vets.

Comments?

Dad on Political Comments

Dad told me
not to talk about politics.
I think that's how he
got along so well
with his democrat friends.

I watched Hillary
and Obama discuss
the health care system
and how they could
make it cheaper and
more efficient.

The health care system
has been analyzed
by minds much greater
than Hillary and Obama,
and whose only saving
grace is that one
insurance company has
to compete with the others.

Peter (of the Peter
Principle) wrote that
we'll always defend Paul
when he robs Peter to
give to us. Will we just
be raising taxes to
subsidize insurance
costs, or does the
government really have
a magic wand to reduce costs?

Has the government ever
reduced costs by intervening
in the free market?

Dogs, Part II

Dogs, Part II, will come.

My friend said that suspense is important
when you write.

I'm a junkie who just lost his Palm Pilot.

I had to mail it to someone in Minnesota,
or maybe Michigan, to get a new digitizer.

In the process of erasing all my files,
I lost Dogs, Part II, to oblivion.

And I was forced to use paper and pencil.

Ok, you're mad. You wanted to
know what Part II was about,
so I won't delay anymore.

Here's the scoop:

Our long love affair
with dogs is coming to an end.
Not that we don't like the creatures,
but we feel
that they have become more
a burden than a joy.

So now we are looking to put our loved ones
out for adoption. One comes from a rescue
group that insists on taking back their
dogs (though they don't return phone calls)
and the other . . . is free to a good
home.

Well, that's Part II.

Dogs

Each dog is unique.

One scruffs up her food
before it hits the bowl,
and the other waits
to make sure no more
is coming before she'll
dive in.

One feels compelled to
sit by the window and
bark at anything with a shadow.

The other will sleep through
a tornado, never caring what
may be threatening her habitat.

One wants to tear the porch
apart because a rabbit has
taken refuge, and the other
complains that her feet
are cold in the snow.

Awaiting an Answer

Sometimes I await an answer,
thinking, "if only I knew,"
and then I "get what I wished for"
only to find out that it
was not what I wanted.

One of the happiest people
I ever met was a man with AIDS
who had a short time to live.

I asked him what was the hardest
time for him. "Not knowing,"
he said.

Now that I have the answer,
I am up at bat once again.

I know the score.

What I don't know is how
fast the ball will come,
and what kind of curve
it will have.