death experience

Do I not notice
death is but another experience
like an experience arising any other day
that I sometimes dread
yet finally will still overcome
and come to term
and continue living?

Death is not the end
except another experience
where I too will finally overcome
and continue living
wherever I am been posted
never an end

It’s not death that I dread
or the meaning of ending that I abhor
rather the assumed perception
of another’s death
never returning
thus keeping me resisting
of what I have built
of what I have accumulated
of what I have held on
of what I have toiled
not willing to depart
not willing to end
thus seeing death a threat
death an imposed fear
robbing me what I so wanted
to cherish, to enjoy

yet funnily
not willing to depart is an experience
not willing to end is an experience too
wanting to cherish, to enjoy, yet another experience
not to mention
holding on
whatever I can fill in the gaps
aren’t they all experiences?

Where is there then hierarchy?
Where is there then specialness?
Where is there then preference?
Even if there is, isn’t those all experience too?

If that is all it is
in this so-called human life
why not death another experience?
even though I may not like it
yet not liking too is another experience!

where can I run, except another experience
where can I go, except another experience
where can I escape
Escape? Another experience!

But if escape is what I wish
Isn’t Death an escape
of what I am now?
Am I choosing to escape Death
but not escaping from what I am?
Do I think I have a choice
Yes! only if I am insane! 

I am escaping from escape?
What a confusion!
Pray tell me, what is it that I want?
Or is it want that I just need to wake up from?


moments can be simply simple
if there are no meanings attached to it
for then what is is just as it is
devoid of
meanings of if or should
or even must.

yet that cannot be the case
as meanings make up my entire mind
make up my reality
make up my experiences
make up who I am
without which
experiences cease to be
not to mention death of I-dentity

and that comes back to truth
that so long I-dentity is still felt
I can be sure it is a construct of meanings
of ancient ideas and views
mutated over unimaginable times
solidifying the falseness
of a meaning that
I do exist
except but just a meaning

“I” the mother of delusion
giving further many more I to come
seamlessly to each moment
making what is but a process
now a permanent meaning
unrealized I am but simply
meanings over meanings

thus notice meanings as meanings,
meaningless on its own
not a reality
except an imposed identification over what is
notice its nature
notice its powerlessness
until power given to it
notice exactly as it is
without wrongness
else another meaning sprung from it

fully awake
to its nature

beyond meanings!

living nowhere, leaving nowhere

What makes me think I am here?
Or am I feeling I am here
Or I know I am here?

But I begin to notice
think, feel and know
are but functions of the mind
I AM here
Yet am I really, really here
without being pointed, being inferred?

Could it be the mind’s conjuring
an illusionist of sort
making me dream I am here?
Living here now
as I am typing it out for you to read?

But wait a minute,
Who is talking here?
is it not the mind again that is all to this moment
expressing itself in words
yet still the mind as a forerunner?

And you, yes, you,
who else!
Reading my mind
now encrypted in words and sentences
trying to decipher
what is now in your mind
of what was seen
read and possibly, comprehend?

Are you reading?
or is the mind doing its job?
of all its lingual ideas
of concepts already in existence
trying to grasp,
trying to understand
what is now stuck in its own
the mind?

Mind meeting mind
transferring ideas to and fro
I and you a part of it
not apart of it
not depart from it
or separate from it
immersed in its function

of ancient stuff
replayed over again.
Am I living
or seemingly living?
made believe by the mind?

What if I were to leave
all these silly living
and find out what is really going on
Yet, sigh, who is talking these
or thinking these?
The mind again?

What a damn, yet sweet revelation!


NOW is the treasure trove of inquiries
Of unfound beauty hidden beneath the facade of seeking
When one brings forth inquiries
of Now what is not known
what is hidden, comes forth a surprise.

So let each inquiry always be for the now
Instead of from the now
inquiry to probe instead of to challenge
inquiry to realize instead of to instil
inquiry that opens up the heart
instead of reinforcing
inquiry not to seek an answer
but to let the answer finds you.

Within each inquiry an answer awaits, lovingly
For when there is no inquiry whence is there answer?
let the inquiry be wise
as to unfold the wisdom of answers
let the inquiry be opened
as to unfold unlimited potentials
let the inquiry be
for the sake of love
instead of fear

for when the step is rightly taken
what is not seen will be seen
what is seen will be made known
and what is made known
will be triumphed
and what is triumphed
will be gloried upon all

so let you not seek
but to see.

I see you.

ride of delusion

Here begins the journey of delusion
Where seeing is no longer a vision
And instead pursuit is now the mission

Desire spreads in full steam operation
Upsets too frequent with no remission
Both arriving in constant successions

Seeking beauty is its main contention
Desiring happiness too its full intention
No moment given to clear comprehension

Resisting suffering is also its function
Unaccepting of nature in all out aversion
Reflecting wisely is out of question

Desiring and resistance both in tension
Yet both discomforts never were mentioned
Though both works in great aggression

Grasping life is its constant passion
Detesting death also its daily fashion
Both a pull push battle of creation

Never once were you free to raise objection
Of your life but a constant dejection
Infested in these menace of petition

Where love is but awaiting rejection
And fear is but a welcoming projection
Both not opposites except a guilt station

When hunger strikes peace becomes a fiction
With overeating sloth, torpor and even indigestion
Ignoring both is but a fight of friction

Restlessness joins the rank of irritation
With worries its comrade of apprehension
Universal indeed in all species’ generation

Sloth and laziness a guilt manifestation
Where not careful a prehistoric skeleton
Left behind in a lurge of assimilation

Contentment was never an invitation
Taking advantage the unseen deviation
A secret all done in sly manipulation

Even in retreat is not spared regulations
Artificial setting to false jubilations
Advocate silence a forced adoration

Over and over these play of variations
Yet seen correctly but just an apparition
Until then indeed a full steam delusion

a forgotten song

a birthday
a celebration of absurdness
of memory unbearable to bring
buried, forgotten,
in deep sea of consciousness
where scene of comfort turns nightmarish
of unknown force appearing
of unfamiliar discomfort arising
of never before pushing experienced
of pain never before felt
in the tunnel of contraction
meeting delicateness
to a doorway unimaginably small

the giver of life struggling on her own
the receiver end in territory unknown
of meeting each comes in contact
yet unmet, unconscious of each
as one faced the discomfort of process

ho behold!
meaning of world comes to be
a stark reality never can imagined
of such contrast where it origined

naked off comfort
the world is met
of worthiness of struggle
awaits the end
ideas foreign consciousness absorb
I-ness of identity gradually comes to be
concepts of objects now familiar
an untold story then onwards.

and thus birthday is what it is
an added year reinstating identity
of imaginary separation seems to be
of hardship and joy transiency
in trivialness to each its own play
in facing the dance of music internally
yet within, consciousness dwells
only to experience its own over again
till life meets its death
and death to arise birth again

yet… beyond it all nothing really happened
nothing left, nothing gone
nothing born, nothing dies
a myriad only to be awakened
reinstate where One belong.


Nothing hidden in the mind
Nothing awaiting in the background
Nothing wasted unarisen
Nothing lost, arisen or otherwise
Except a sequential process of order
Of conditionings maturing
Bringing about arising
Of what need arise
Of which in return
Conditions the next arising
A process of nature
Coming and going
On its own accord
Without you, or me in it
Except on autorun

Neither is it good nor bad
Right nor wrong
Should nor should not
Except delusional meanings given to it

Arising as it should
With its arising
Conditioning another
The old passing with new taking effect
As always
Appearing another new moment
Seemingly seamless,
Unbreakable, permanent
Yet within each moment dying and arising

Never was life fatalistic
Nor life nihilistic
For so long conditions abound
Existence continues to arise
Reborn over and yet again
Within and without
Of incomprehensible meetings
Of unimaginable experiences
Of unpredictable consequences
All of which we call, Life.


all I am seeking is you
day and night in search
in every of my moment
just to come close to you

sometimes I find you in friendships
sometimes in possessions
sometimes at home
sometimes in fear
sometimes in isolation
sometimes in clubs
sometimes in love
sometimes in anger
even in righteousness
strangely in conflict
and even in argument
or in vanity too

in any of these situations
be it pleasant or unpleasant
I am staying put no matter how long
as You are there for me
somehow I just knew
otherwise I would have left
to seek you out again elsewhere

I fell for you
yet you are illusive
like a shadow you come and go
sometimes here sometimes not
whatever it is I am always seeking
on the lookout for you
never giving up

in fact life is ALL about you
otherwise life has no more meaning
lifeless, empty, devoid of will
fading away like a fallen leave
awaiting death’s calling
only to keep seeking
what awaits beyond

only of late did I notice
other than gratifying
or satisfying
or identifying
attaching or even resisting
whatever that I can to be with you
I can also find you through other means

instead of seeking
I am learning to feel you
in the already present moment
in stability, in non-interference
in stillness accepting what is
no matter how difficult
somehow you are here, always

this is indeed a pleasant surprise
as in the past I have to seek
but now I only need to be still
being in the present
not forgetting and consistent
and in so doing
you reveal yourself once again

only Now do I see the difference
in the past it was merely a referential identification
but now a PRESENCE


no turning back

Before knowing
struggle is my day
stress is my norm
resistance my way
blame my defense
control my security
hope is my comfort
happiness is my wishing
uncertainty is my fear
death is my avoidance
survival, my insurance

Upon knowing
struggle is not facing
stress is not accepting
resistance is not wanting
blame is ignoring
control is lacking
hope is not present
happiness is expectation met
uncertainty is not willing
death is fear of loosing
survival is grasping

Upon realisation
it’s impossible to ignore
nor sweeping under the carpet
no more pushing away a reality
no way of wanting it otherwise
no running away
no possibility of escaping
no more giving up
to face what is unable to be faced
to meet my own baggage
to address my guilt
to see thru my demons
to rectify my views
to come to complete honesty
with my mind
As in…
no turning back


leaving living

Eyes feasting on daily news
With ears rumour is where it zeals
And nose inclines to fragrant dew
Seldom we recall awareness due

Skin too blessed by windy blew
And mouth savouring meaty chew
Dreaming in thoughts another avenue
In forgetfulness our moment just flew

In midst of all these experiential cues
Unaware an occurrence running askew
Unnoticed a rampage this parallel ills
Bringing a trapping difficult to deal

Notice in silence how senses skew
Desiring and resisting all it knew
Unknowingly being lead by blind crew
Only to realise too soon we are screwed

Do we not noticed a conspiracy clue
Where delusion, a mere blind ignorant tool
Unawake we lived in drunkard brew
A contrast with those who left the fools

There’s nothing, in truth, now to mule
As what arises is nothing new
Brisk a moment and take a pew
Seeing how conditioning is all it drew

We are but a mere puppet of views
Pull here and there other than withdrew
If we have realized what the Sages have knew
This moment is just for review

With the precious Way is life meaningfully will
Coming to understanding where we have threw
Where each moment realization is due
Unconditioned is all in the end fulfil

Until then bring in aware with skill
Observe in silence without frills
With non interference is Delusion quell
Arriving ultimately where all Stills

mindless mindful

a doubtful mind
of past conditioning
arising once more as ignorance
to be seen correctly
for its ending

a fearful mind
of past unquestioning
arising again as an apparition
as one last correction
for its ending

a guilt mind
of past misperception
arising again as an illusion
inviting another chance
for its ending

an unforgiving mind
of past holding on
arising again as imagination
welcoming release
for its ending

a misgiving mind
of past self judgment
arising again as a conjuring
seeing it clearly
for its ending

an absent mind
of habitual conditioning
arising again as a delusion
to be known correctly
for its ending

a conditioned mind
of incessant continuation
arising again as impermanence
to be realised totally
for its final ending


the Unconditioned
the final arrival
ending of cycles

the worth of now

Earth not a place to really call home
Nor a game or time for our fun roam
Not even to toil and survive till tomb
Otherwise repeat be another womb

Surely there must be a better aim
Just as all great Mystics have claimed
Pointing to what we need to train
Arriving finally from where they came

Chase not after what we hope to bring
Or lament in thoughts of what we think
Let what is already here for us to link
In threading the Path that release all cling

Of moments that put you in clear perspective
The missing jigsaw that wakes you active
A precious journey you will surely practise
That arrives you what you have always wish

For what is already here is all for you
Look within in reclaiming what’s in lieu
To a path that has long been overdue
Reachable only to the earnest few

Explore more what you have missed
That has always been Now that will please
And not upon death that you be deceived
Another chance will be given if you leave

Wake up to a pristine lasting Nature
That has nothing of status or stature
The Unconditioned beyond this pasture
A lasting Eternal as in final gesture

ring of now

There is this magical ring
an invisible doorway you call Now
where past conditioning comes to arise
and perception takes precedent
of ignorance or wisdom
with followup of feelings
hence new ideas are created
perpetuating new conditioning
either for karma to continue
or to finally end

Thus within this ring
is where great potentials are
where past conditioning comes to arise
with ignorance continuing
or wisdom ending its dance

The Now moment so, so, precious
to die and to be born again
generously being offered repeatedly to you
for a bane or a boon
for you to to sleep once again
or to wakeup once and for all
and thus Samsara or Nibbana comes to be.

its all in the Now!
its all in the Now!
where else do you need to go?

not out there, no out there

The sound is not out there
or is the touch
or sight
or taste
or even smell
except all happening in here

yet “in here” is also not true
as there is no “in here” or “out there”
except happening

the body makes it so
a separator for defining in and out
what was never separated
making what is true
thwarted into two
and sometimes, more

if happening is all it is
what then are the meanings
of your thoughts
or my thoughts?

if you know it happening, it is you to settle
if I know it happening, it is me to resolve

what else is there to quarrel
what else to segregate
only to live in delusion
cheating oneself over and over again


what happened in the past
is happening now
unless you are not thinking about it

what happened in the past
is not happening now
even if you are thinking about it

what happened in the past
is neither happening now nor not happening now
except thoughts thinking you

what happened in the past
is what happened in the past
fortunately as it is, even in the unfortunate

what happened in the past
did not happen in the past
except a mirage of recurring perception

what happened in the past
is not past happened
only what seemed to be

feast then all variation of sort
of which they are the same
pointing to levels of wisdom

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