Thoughts Were Thoughts

I turned around
No thing to do
No poem to write:
Not one, not two

When I turned around
The left was right
It took this pickle
To end the fight

And down was up
As up is down
Because thoughts were thoughts
When I turned around

Not both, not neither
Not two, not one
I think I'll celebrate this fun
Take a breather, work is done

New-born glowing, not knowlegeable
I am the baby king of all
Enjoying that crudity which is usually hated
Moving in with the Ones to Whom I'm mated

Maybe This-All Won't Be-All So Bad

That, sort of, relationship you had
Add some drama and it makes it so sad
So you had to move out
Though you feasted on doubt
Maybe this-all won't be-all so bad

Puffing stogies under a fan
Cue Katy Lied, Steely Dan
You think you're the bad
That's what goes with a fad
Maybe this-all won't be-all so bad

You pout and you cry for no reason
To my knowledge you committed no treason
It's the leaving season
And the bed will be freezin'
But in truth this just ain't-all so bad

So you paint a sad cloud in your sky
"He'll take back what he did by and by"
When you thought you should go
He came back with a shove
But your ship went to sail
The vast ocean above

So the next time you're worried about fairity
Try to rub out that scratch in your clarity
Say g'bye to Don Juan
'Think it's time to move on
Maybe this-all won't be-all so bad

Countin' Signs

Running on the 14 Line
Gonna see the morning light real soon
The bus is cutting fog
I can see the sunlight dim the moon

Many a day
I’ve been paddling down this creek.
I'll find my way
I’ve been traveling now for weeks.
Ask me where I’m going and why,
I’ll just say, “Well, that’s up to me”
Cause when I’m traveling the roads and countin' signs
It’s the time when I feel free.

Gonna get my license back
Gonna get a rig with a nice smooth ride
Gonna take a nice long cruise
Gonna have my baby by my side

What I was, what I got and what will be
We're crusing along,
We're just another highway dream
Tell me your problems
And you’ll probably think I’m mean
Cause it’s all flowing, it’s coming and going
It was never quite what it seemed

Fall is coming fast
Ducks landing in a glistening roadside pond
Earth, water, sun and sky.
If I see much more it might be God

When I arise I rub my eyes and drink a pot of coffee,
That's the medicine for me.
Taking off with the wind in my face,
Feelin' fine as I can be.
If they want to to know where I went,
I’m out looking for Bobby McGee,
Cause when I’m traveling the roads and countin' signs
It’s the time when I feel free.

Countin' Signs lyric and song, © 2008, S. T. Triane

We're Gonna Do It Right This Time

1.
Yeah, he was a loser
You thought your love would overwhelm him
So you stayed there in confusion
And you stayed for the kids

Now the skeptics in the clover
Say, "Can you really start over?
Can you shake it with the wild ones,
Or have you lost your fizz?"

2.
The old game, it's over
The jig is on up
Sometimes it takes
More than time to heal

So send all those pills back
On that doctor deal
Mr. Spock,
You'd better drop those shields

(chorus)
A rainbow surprised my clouds today
This time it's right and I'm feeling fine
If we start from our spot,
Head up the county line,
Then we're gonna do it right this time

(whistle verse, sing chorus)

3.
Some people say
You should love 'em, then you move 'em
But they never set a groove in,
And they're never satisfied

But for me there's got to be
That there's a lady that's right for me
That one who'd show affection
This I cannot hide

(mod chorus)
An angel broke up my clouds today
This time it's right and I'm feeling fine
Yeah, I'll swing on down to the city, that's fine
Then we're gonna do it...

(chorus)
A rainbow surprised my clouds today
This time it's right and I'm feeling fine
If we start from our spot
Head up the county line
Then we're gonna do it,
We're gonna do it,
We're gonna do it
Right this time

lyric and song © 2008, Sol Ta Triane

The Three Committments

The teacher needs no apple
You can catch hold of one walking toward the sun
Make your connection with awakeness, sources and an attitude!

Sincerity is expensive
Willingly burning what should have been done long ago
Hold your commitment to awakeness, sources with the attitude!

The board has been covered with all your writings
It's hard to decipher, result's not too good
Set your root in the awakeness and the sources with an attitude!

The chalk makes that scraping sound and you feel intelligent
Inside yourself you can find the eraser
Take refuge in awakeness, sources and the attitude!

There is a serious problem, we know it's not possible
Except where everything is possible
So consider refuge in awakeness, sources with an attitude!

It's impossible to ask and not receive,
Impossible for the lineage not to appear.
Make haste toward the awakeness and the sources with the attitude.

Ecstasy So Kind

The excitement of this lady, it is almost too much,
Muscles ache, now come the tears.
It’s so damn perfect to be so high,
After the wait, after all these years.
It seems that I’ve put away my fears.

In fortune I’ve learned from the masters of masters
Now I take in the dakini’s touch.
As we embrace, O let us sigh,
And encourage the bliss that we crave so much,
Unlacing event in the nature of such.

Some, they say that we’re human, aye?
We’re more, of this I have no doubt!
How can our ecstasy be so kind?
Have you considered to ask about, why her
Scent and her lust I won’t live without?

Take what you want, I’ve got something better!
Insane, I take shoulder, her waist and her thighs.
While you reap fame, more money, convention,
An untamable fire erupts in her eyes. Take your
Things, thanks, and leave me here, with her affection.

On Why You Beat the Bushes

On Sep 29, 2006, at 10:11 AM, Anonymous wrote:
"please elucidate on meaning of the word pure in the tantic (sic) sense...."

It's a great question, so here is a tiny bit to maybe whet your interest in the subject. Maybe you will be inspired, take it more seriously and things can go further. That is my wish.

Now to the mind, whatever that is, it's for sure that it's naturally wide open. This kind of openness is uncreated and free of misunderstanding exactly what creativity is. We use words to communicate and the words "primordial purity" are the particular Mahamudra linguistics meaning the "ultimate position," of tantrayana, of zen, and it's also Buddha's, the Christ's and Tao Way's final position: This you should know or you may be hindered somewhat.

In the moment of recognizing your nature, (which would entail that you would see that mind is originally PURE and that there was a deep fall into erroneous views), THAT... IS.... recognizing primordial purity.

But we aren't there, we haven't recognized that ultimate purity, but this isn't the end of the story either.

It's probably best to accept that there is some trouble here in River City. Lazy, modern pseudo-Buddhists like ourselves seem to be happy with an IDEA that we are primordially pure. But ideas in themselves are never ever ultimately pure, so, get back to work, you dirtballs! Not kidding!

If you were to meet a real chan teacher, they would be able to show you the distortion of your mind (as well as the nature of it). You would see and feel all the sickness and pain your mistakes caused and you would want help and want to help. Depending on various factors you would be able to trasform/transfigure these thoughtforms, very slowly, somewhat slowly, slowly, moderately, somewhat fast, quickly, very quickly or instantly or timelessly. When you see thoughts timelessly poof, then let me know...we can have a nice talk about how you have transcended the need for the purity idea.....

In general we tend to be egotistical and would rather not deal with the lostness and the suffering. But go ahead and admit it and you may be on the way to, uh, er, purity! You might be able to enter the path of esoteric tantra...but that is rare...it's not my choice but the level of the student.
Not only will the first be last, but the last will be first.

So can you tell me, how can lying and feigning enlightenment be tantric purity? Modern Kali-rushing and selfishness means we get to skip and just be done with it, why? Because we want to. Waaah!! Good time for a hissy fit!

The point is, we don't do the right things AND we don't try hard enough:

"Dog Zen is easy
But you still have to do it.
Your way is hard
But you still have to stop it.

After you begin the beating of the bushes
Rip out roots to make sure.
Still, you'll have to use the chemicals,
Even still, you won't be close to pure."

We should kick ass on our path and follow the teachings and the lineage and commit to plumb the depths of the great issue of life, all instead of holding on to a fools enlightenment, which is no enlightenment at all. Don't argue with Lao Tsu, he's in a bad mood, and those students of the sangha, bless their hearts, are a little flakey and all need to get down into the mud of truth and get really stinky ripe so that they can be pure.

This idea that there is no purity and that there is no morality is generally accepted by neo-pagans, anarchists, and some new agers. It's much easier to blame, to maintain opposite thinking to that horrifying possibility that you might have to work hard on yourself and even give up things. And that your parent's religion might have more than a grain of truth to it, too. Boo.

The fact is that there are in skillful means and karmic purification functioning as an important part of our point on the spiritual path. See the teachings of Buddha, of Christ and of the ancient Taoists for yourself. Asking for a book list might get you interested in something besides the Samsaric Daily News. Ideas of trendy libertine tantra are just the corruption of these profound teachings and are not the basis of esoteric tantra at all but I'm in minority here, and you may need to activate more brain cells to find out.

Now that you've decided to make your actions pure as powder, if you are going to practice atiyoga at some point you should know what the cardinal sin of Dzogchen is:

It's to corrupt the understanding of the Dzogchen view with concepts of a Dzogchen view. (Memorize this please for the future.)

Ok, so there's no such thing as sin, aye? No such thing as evil, no need for purity.....oh my Lordy, help us all please! Everybody back to the coal mines!

In order to correct this problem, one who is even recognizing the basic aspect of empowerment will need to start over constantly, even throughout the day. One who hasn't must strive for truth (which is the modern replacement for the preliminary practices). (Memorize this too). One continues to one's ideas of what is until the time of actual (not exoteric) empowerment. Some people think that Mr. Rogers or perhaps "science" is the perfection, you know, so ideas are iffy things...

May all beings prepare, enter and follow the path as so to finally recognize the four extremes (reality, unreality, both, neither) arising as the creativity of the actual great perfection!

Super Great Good Fortune Y'all!!

Lao Tzu Kicked Out of the City

Chalking his hand
Looking toward that 300 score
Lao Tzu had a hissy fit:
They ran out of Budweiser.

Dog Zen is easy
But you still have to do it.
Your way is hard
But you still have to stop it.

After you begin the beating of the bushes
Rip out roots, just to make sure.
Still, you'll have to use the chemicals,
Even still, you won't be close to pure.

Dead roots point a shine toward infinity
Looking from the back, clockwise becomes counter:
You can't fool me again, no friend would hold lies
No mixing is allowed without the chan master's affinity.

While this wild plant, it silently grows
The fraud primps and arranges the styles that he chose,
Further and further back from his chance:
He never entered into the source of romance.

If there's one lick of passion in your blood
You'll take to roaming with the dharma thugs
Where you'll learn the chod that cuts the bone:
Then again, the odds are you'll stay home.

Gold, a bad choice,
Steel is better.
How you 'spect to get around
Up there on that ladder?

Glory to God our Father in Heaven
Yes, just the way that it already is!
Our meal ends in a toast, better than ever
Ain't no complaints in this line of biz.

Schmoogley's Risk

Reaching out to make others feel good
Doesn't end their continuation as morons.
Reaching to help yet another, the first falls back:
How are you going to explain that to your real Mom?
How can you say that God is good?

The girl danced and danced: I trust her truth
She forgot how she was supposed to be
Forgetting to help, she takes the great risk
So to spin the world off its trajectory
Exposing old heroes as ordinary spooks.

The cat got chased without a dog zen thought.
The redneck doesn't care much for Superman's tights.
As Schmoogley boy would like a bone today,
Mr. Whitman has boldly declared his delights,
And the dancer she shakes, caring not what she ought.

While all must love, the chosen let it go,
Knowing the difference between leaves and the wood,
One is pecked off, the other stays.
The vow is the remnant of the magic good
The pith, not the fluff, the wise do know.

The Life of a Seed

At on time there was a poppy seed who liked to do some thinking from deep within its mother-flower.

The seed was in a melancholy mood and was considering his days to come. "Now why is it that I'm so put off with the idea of falling to the earth and becoming a duplicate flower?" he thought, as always, to himself. "I'm uncomfortable with the whole idea. I wish to be something special, something unique. I refuse to follow the pattern of my ancestors. I must be free to choose. I must have access to my destiny!"

Suddenly a robin appeared, and brushing against the mother poppy, caused many seeds to spill from the flower and into the open air. Our seed friend went flying, as did many of his brothers and sisters, over and down to the earth below.

After a brief journey of about five human hand lengths, our little friend bounced to and fro, quicker than most eyes could see, and ended up being seated comfortably in in a small grey indentation there in his mother's meadow. He thought, "Well, that wasn't too bad of a journey. Somehow I pictured my release from mom differently. But anyway, now I suppose I am to grow in the traditional manner. Hummph!"

Although he actually felt good, his concerns didn't allow him to appreciate it. He busied himself in his self-torment, regarding what he considered a cold, forced and regimented destiny. "Is it possible to change that destiny? No, no, no!" he thought, and pressed his anguish in upon himself.

Again and again he thought through the process of a typical poppy seed's life. It seemed unsatisfactory, unsatisfying, perhaps humiliating. Yet he somberly knew the rules; in the first stage of post descent, he would wait for a rain shower or for a sprinkler to be turned on, then he would be softening his own surface and sending out two sprouts; one at end of a stem, one at root. It was this kind of thing, just the thought of this sort of growth conformity, as I mentioned, that brought the seed such anguish.

He grumbled "Even after millions of years of my own species existence, here now I lie, incapable but to enact the same boring order without the least allowance for how I feel about it. On one hand I know I'm being difficult about this, but I must at some point take a stand and object to unquestioned tradition. I'm not going to fall into lock step with things simply because every other seed isn't willing to think for themselves. There is something I have to take on for myself, something I have to do for me. I shall express my own uniqueness!"

The self-aimed speech thus complete he entrenched himself firmly in his his frustration, however knowing that it was a unlikely that his wishes could be fulfilled. Queerly though, for those of us unfamiliar with certain causal principles, the seed's wish had already been answered.

You see, the robin was really a magic bird, and when it brushed the mother-plant the seeds were given the power of the knowledge tree. It was remembered that, shortly after the time that our little seed fell to earth and made known its harsh wishes, it had received a vision that showed that his mind had a power and could change his destiny. It occurred to him, that he could do whatever he wanted. He was so excited, he didn't even think about telling his brothers and sisters who laid dispersed through the surrounding locale, some of whom had the same concerns as him.

The realization brought excitement to our little seed, which in turn brought a rush of thought, and then,"Of being a plant, I have always loved the flower most of all," was heard aloud, even by the other seeds nearby, although seeds tend to speak rather quietly.

"Now that I know that I can have my wish, why should I have to grow a stem first, then the leaves and then finally a flower? I shall be the first poppy to begin in the way that I want! And that is to be a flower right now instead of having to entertain that long, ordinary and dull process of growing stem, a root-web and leaves first!"

So the seed, just as he intended for himself, went to flower in the power of his own wish. Unfortunately for him, though, the flower petals, being underground, became damp and began to rot. Bee nor human could see it's luster, nor could petal, pistol or stamen mature without sunlight.

Thereby, it could not be avoided that the seed-flower came to a premature end, incapable of life much less of progeny. And thus ends our story, except for one small thing.

Just after the next process of dissolution, the dissolving of the flowers elements into the dirt, and just before it's brownie spirit ascended into the Fifth Plant Spectrum, the seed as a soul went to receive what would be his official commiseration note (including his next life plan and what now might be perceived as a more dubious routing, fortunately with a decebt preparation litany, which helps) by securing his pass at the Second Kingdom Palace ticket counter of their local tangibility assumption arena (not unlike our nearby human one) and then proceeded through the Third Committee's Directional Adjudication Lectern where one may submit any special pleas, if applicable, before receiving final assignment. The seed-soul made no such plea, and submitting his forms found himself holding the very agenda for his his next mystic journey.

It was at this second that the seed-soul had what humans beings have called their last thought as a summation of a lifetime. It was,"I'm not going to do that again."