What's in it for me?

What's in it for me?
Yeah, what's my gain?
I wanna feel different,
yet remain the same.

What's in it for me?
Yeah, divert from loss.
Never once questioning
just who's the boss?

Mechanical outcomes:
zero and one.
If not my way,
then I choose none!

What's in it for me?
Yeah, that's my block.
We say that's freedom,
but that's our flock.

Fly toward pleasure,
flee from pain.
Everybody else
they do the same.

What's in it for me?
Why should I move?
That's the burden
I demand you prove.

What's in it for you?
Yeah, what's your gain?
Compare and compete
for power and fame.

Zealous jealous--
that poisoned itch:

I can't stand to see you rich!

Yet before long,
it's all just dust.
Who keeps the time
by moth and rust?

What's in it for me?
Yeah, that's my greed.
A viral, crippling,
heart disease.

What's in it for me?
That's my decay.
Half life. No life.
Waste away.

What's in it for me?
What's in it for you?
The gain and loss
obstruct the view.

What's in it for me?
Don't answer that.
No thought of gain:

Authentic.

Act.

Applause

The world's applauding.
Don't pat the back.
You've forgotten all
the things you lack.

Like mercy, compassion,
benevolence.
Wisdom, faith,
and tolerance.

Philadelphia:
have you ever been?
If you bothered knocking
would they let you in?

Or would they bid
you stay outside.
Chastised for not
coming by.

Have you hugged
a post of rusty nails?
Skin so soft,
comfort prevails.

You don't want
to endure the pain.
That's exactly why
you have not changed.

You cultivate with
many words,
but when it comes to action
you lose your nerve.

You hide so others
cannot see
that you're not what
you ought to be.

You can hide from others;
that's cake to do.
But how can you ever
hide from you?

You don't want
to endure the shame.
That's exactly why
you have not changed.

The world's applauding.
Don't pat the back.
You've forgotten all
the things you pack.

Like arrogance, jealousy,
a heart that's lax.
Greed and craving
for sideways tracks.

A seed's been planted.
Well, has it grown?
Don't praise virtue,
reap your own!

You note your faults,
but don't remove.
You catalog,
and don't improve.

Discard self-pity.
Stand upright!
Your vision's blurry.
Use your sight!

The world's applauding.
Don't pat the back.
You've forgotten all
the things you lack.

Mirth

How can I stand here
with a foolish grin?
How did I even
enter in?

A stowaway on
the Dharma Boat.
Why am I treated
without reproach?

I get worse.
I don't improve.
Why am I offered
delicious food?

Why am I not whipped,
thrown to the sea,
abandoned there to drown
endlessly?

I have no merits.
My good points, few.
My two eyes all but
obstruct my view.

We must give an accounting
to heaven and earth.
How can I be given
to fits of mirth?

How did I come
to be your kin?
How did I even
enter in?

How can I stand to
be so lax?
How can I dare
to speak of pax?

My faults are many.
My virtues, none.
How can I approach
the Bodhi Sun?

A stowaway on
the Dharma Boat.
Why am I treated
without reproach?

A saintly vessel.
An upright crew.
How can I dare
wear white and blue?

Multitudes,
they shriek, lament.
I fold my arms,
and won't repent.

Disasters descending
upon the earth.
How can I be given
to fits of mirth?

War and Famine.
Plague and Death.
How did I receive
the boon of Breath?

Inhale. Exhale.
What's that for?
How can I dare
treat life as chore?

There's something
that I vowed to do.
How can I take the false
for true?

I can't just stand here
with a foolish grin.
There must be a reason
they let us in.

We must give an accounting
to heaven and earth.
How can I be given
to fits of mirth?

Breathe

"Stop what you're doing!
Your doing hurts me!"
And if I stop,
they call that mercy.
Such a good son,
the nicest guy.
But something feels
so off inside.

In my heart,
I find no malice.
Yet my actions,
described as callous.
I'm thoughtless, yes.
This much is true.
But I never wished harm
to come to you.

Will it remove the pain
if I change my walk?
And why should I inquire
with so much talk?
If it hurts to watch me
walk this way.
I should change immediately,
without delay!

Applause.
Hey, I'm the nicest guy!
But something feels
so off inside.
It's not their face
in the mirror I see.
So their clapping can't truly
comfort me.

Reflection.
And who's that standing there?
What manner of posture
does he wear?
One that's upright,
standing firm?
Or one consistent
as a worm?

The world's applauding,
but off inside.
How can I stand
to meet my eyes?
If I can't meet
the face I see,
then how can their clapping
comfort me?

Man in the mirror.
Hey, don't forget.
You're supposed to be
a vertebrate.
Know it's not easy.
Expect to fall.
But get up quickly,
and stand so tall.

Stop what you're doing.
Your doing irks me.
And if you stop,
can we call that mercy?
Kindness maybe,
a brief reprieve.
I get back up,
and learn to breathe.

Lotus pond

Burn the incense.
Excuse the mess.
It's filthy here,
I must confess.

What's foul to you
is sweet, we think.
'Cause pigs don't know
that pigs, they stink.

You made us family
instead of guests.
But our foul odor
must make you retch.
Oh what mercy
to descend and bless
we pigs who wallow
without rest!

Proud little monarch
of a garbage hill.
We tumble in feces
and dine on swill.
But at least we rule
and that's our pride.
True fortune
we don't yet realize.

Mother's crying.
Her heart does wrench.
Teacher's choking
on our stench.
How many more messages
must be sent
for us to turn around,
repent?

A diamond thrown
into the muck.
Sent to hopefully
improve our luck.
We burned the saints
and strung them up.
We hate them 'cause
we're so corrupt.

Here's some more rubbish
for the garbage hill.
We tumble in feces
and dine on swill.

Our perfume smells
so sweet, we think.
'Cause pigs don't know
that pigs, they stink.

It's filthy here.
I'm sure you know.
We relax and down
the stream we go.
Against it
we are loathe to row.
From such muck
how does the lotus grow?

Please teach us,
we're not quite sure.
How can the filthy
become pure?

We hate the truth.
We're so corrupt!
We've fallen.
How can we get up?

Mother's crying;
we do not care.
We take too much
and will not share.
We say that life
just isn't fair.
So we strip the land
and lay it bare.

We can't distinguish
want from need.
We reap and reap
but seldom seed.

We're sinking deeper.
We have no root.
We've all but lost
the taste for truth.

Burn more incense,
let Teacher breathe.
From our stink
a brief reprieve.
We reap and reap
let's learn to seed.
Discard our pride,
and let us plead:

What seems so lovely
just isn't so.
Let's take our paddle
against the flow.
Please teach us what
we do not know:
Out of muck
how does the lotus grow?

Change

I don't want to change.
I want to feel better.
That's my issue,
my shackles and fetters.

I'm married to suffering
by ball and chain
'cause I want to feel better
yet remain the same.

It's too hard for me
to change myself.
There was a mistake
when the cards were dealt.
So please give me
a better hand.
And let me stay
the way I am.

Sure, I'm lazy,
but that's okay.
It's temporary
anyway.
So just let me
go back to sleep.
The spirit is willing;
my flesh is weak.

Once you know,
you can't un-know.
So don't tell me anymore!
Ignorance is bliss, you see,
so let the sleeping snore.

It's too late for me,
I know too much!
The original way
got so corrupt!
A diamond thrown
into the muck.
Treasures traded
for worthless stuff.

Once we know,
we can't un-know.
Sometimes, I wish I could.
So I could go around believing,
"Hey, I'm pretty good."
Sure, it's not true.
But feels much better.
That's my issue,
my shackles and fetters.

I'm married to suffering
by ball and chain
'cause I want to feel better
yet remain the same.

It's true that I don't
rob and steal
but doesn't mean bodhi
has been revealed.
So how can I think
me pretty good
when I've yet to do
what Jesus would?

By saintly standards,
I am a thief.
I rob and steal
and cause much grief.
'Cause what I see,
I want to own.
It leads me further
from our home.

I know some things.
I know too much!
And most of it
is worthless stuff.
Since I still can't right
what fell corrupt;
I'm sinking deeper
into the muck!

If this learning cannot
save the drowning,
then what's that learning for?
Too deeply I've been
slumbering,
don't let the sleeping snore!

So nudge and budge.
Oh God above.
Let ring the Golden Bell.
The longer I've been slumbering
I'm slipping into hell.

So poke and prod;
Don't let me nod.
Let ring the Golden Bell.
The longer we've been slumbering
it's not going very well.

Devils with horns
and pitchforks?
That is hardly a disguise!
The demons I'm most
acquainted
are my thieving set of eyes.

Look at that.
Looks soft enough.
So I reach a thieving
hand to touch.
I covet and steal,
and want to own.
I take a giant
leap from home.

But everything
I hold today
too soon it will be
stripped away.
I know what you're
about to say:

It's temporary anyway.

This, I know.
But tell these eyes.
These thieves
they cannot realize
that what's here today
is gone tomorrow:
We cannot own;
at most, we borrow.

Accumulating.
Wanting more.
Tell me what that stuff is for?
If it sinks us deeper
into the dream,
and leads us further
from the mean.

I covet. I steal.
I plot to own.
That's how I got
so far from home.

If these roots of sensation
cannot be pure,
how can they lead us
to the cure?
I go by feeling.
I go by sight.
They lead me further
into the night.

I want to feel better,
my ball and chain.
Adjust my feelings
yet remain the same.
Up and down
an endless game.
I'm tired of playing:

I have to change.

Worthless things

Why do I wish you
worthless things?
Like counterfeit coins
and charcoal rings.
A life of comfort,
pleasure, ease.
Opposite
of what we need.

The world is drowning,
I use the hand.
And build up castles
out of sand.
Before the tide
they cannot stand.
What a blind,
nearsighted plan!

I give you candy
instead of food.
To temporarily
uplift your mood.
To make us spoiled,
lazy, fat.
Why do they applaud me
for doing that?

The Chef serves veggies,
fruits, and grains.
How we kick
and scream, complain.

The Lords of Justice
raise their spears.
How we shudder and quake
with fear.

We flee from discipline,
wanting ease.
Opposite
of what we need.
Three times repent
announcer sings.
Why do I wish you
worthless things?

Really, I must be
so confused.
To give you candy
instead of food.
To temporarily
uplift your mood.
Meanwhile starving
for the truth.

I'm so deficient.
I'm ill-equipped.
It's daunting
and I want to quit.
I'm just about
to throw a fit.
And then I get
a sense of this:

Inside the heart,
a tiny the seed
unfolds into
a bodhi tree.
Not one that naked
eyes can see.
The One Heart steady
constantly.

Why not wish you
priceless things?
Like heat.
Like pressure.
Like diamond rings.
Duress and stress
and bitter dreams.
To wake us faster
to the mean.