First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungpa

The impulse to believe the absurd when presented with the unknowable is called religion. Whether this is wise or unwise is the domain of doctrine. Once you understand someone's doctrine, you understand their rationale for believing the absurd. At that point, it may no longer seem absurd. You can get to both sides of this conondrum from here.

Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:50 am

PALM IS

Palm is.
It may be small, but includes the universe:
Fortune-tellers make a living out of it;
Flamingos sleep on it;
Mothers slap their children;
It's for begging, giving;
When thinkers don't have thoughts, they rest their foreheads;
Trees that have palms invite holiday-makers.
Can a jackal read a palm?
Maybe S.C. can read--
But is S.C. a jackal?
S.C. is tricky,
But jackals are perky, with long throbbing howls;
Maybe they read their palms in the cold wintry night
In the aspen grove.
The Lord of Death supposedly reads palms,
To see through your life's work:
The good man
The wicked
Banker
Priest--
How many infants got slapped with a palm,
How much dough we molded with our palms,
How many directors clapped their palms on the table
Shouting, "Let's do it!"
I wonder whether Miss Bishop has used her palms in her life?
The palms of the night,
To write poem of palm.
Flamingos
Flamingos' mothers
S.C.
Fortune-tellers.

The earth is a big palm,
So is the sky;
Jointly they make the four seasons.
By mistake, cities grow up between their palms,
A vein of highways begins to grow,
There's no room to breathe--
People call it pollution.
I wonder what it's like to be the palm of the universe.
The stars and moons,
Saturn and Jupiter,
Mars and Venus,
Twinkle between two palms.
By fault of the palms being too tight,
Sometimes various comets escape
Creating cosmic fart:
The world of fart and palms.
Goodnight, jackal!

25 February 1975
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:51 am

BURDENSOME

The best minds of my generation are idiots,
They have such idiot compassion.
The world of charity is turned into chicken-foot,
The castles of diamond bought and sold for tourism--
Only, if only they ...
Oh, forget it.
What is the use of synchronizing?
Raccoons are pure animals, they wash their food.
Beavers are clever animals, they build their dams.
Hot cross bun is for Easter.
Men who care for themselves turn into heroes
Walking on cloud--but are not dreamers--
But performing a miracle.
Distant flute makes you happy and sad--
Only for the shepherds.
Long lines of generations are hard workers.
Glory be to the blade of grass
That carries heavy frost
Turning into dew drop.

25 February 1975
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:51 am

TSONDRU NAMKHA

In the land of promises
One flea bite occurred.
In the midst of continental hoo-ha
One bubble occurred in a tall lager-and-lime glass.
Midst a spacious sand dune
Sand swarmed.
Lover with sweat.
Primordial egg dropped from the sky
And hit Genghis Khan's head
In the middle of the Gobi Desert.
Horny camels huffed and puffed to the nearest water.
Desert seagulls pushing their trips to gain another food.
Suzanne with her jellyfish
Volleyed back and forth by badminton rackets--
Oh this desert is so dusty
One never gains an inch
Not a drip of water
So sunny
Almost thirsty
Very thirsty
Fabulously thirsty
Terribly--
Oh it's killing me
This desert this sand
Preventing me from making love
Preventing me from eating delicious supper
With all-pervasive crunch of sand.
I wish I could go to the mountains
Eat snowflakes
Feel the cool breeze--
I wouldn't mind chewing icicles
Making the delicious cracking sound
As I step on the prematurely frozen pond,
Making the satisfying sound of deep hollowness
As I step on the well-matured frozen pond,
The undoubtedly solid and secure sound
On a fully-matured frozen pond.
Suzanne would love that,
Because she is the punisher in the desert
And she is the companion
When we skate across this large fully frozen pond.
Let's fly across the ice
Let's beat the drum of our hearts
Let's blow the bagpipe of our lungs
Let's jingle the bells of icicles
Let's be cool and crispy--
Suzanne, join us!
What is gained in the hot deserty wretched sweaty claustrophobic
sandy skull-crunching dusty world of Gobi?
Who cares?
Come to the mountains, Suzanne,
O Suzanne!

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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:51 am

PEMA SEMMA

How small can you be?
So tiny that you can't even talk or think.
How big can you be?
So big that you can't think or talk.
Desert hounds are said to be tough
But, looking at their own ancestral skulls,
They could become painfully wretched.
Come, Come, said the young woman,
Come with me to the mountains
Where the heathers, rhododendrons, tamarisks and snowflakes grow.
Her hair fluttered by the cool mountain air
Which is so fresh,
Her lips and eyelids quivering at the freshness she experiences,
Sunbeam reflecting on the side of her face
Portrays a lady of life.
As she turns her head
From the little irritation of long flowing hair
She says, Mmmm.
But on the other hand she is somewhat perturbed;
Not knowing whether she is glamorous or ugly,
Begging for confirmations right and left,
Still listening to the distant flute of her past present future.
Is she wretched?
Is she fabulous?
Thundering heartbeat in her chest,
Riding the horse of jealousy at a million miles a minute
Could someone fall in love with her?
Could she be the world's monumental femininity?
Is she the possible hag
Who eats living chrysanthemums or dead bees?
Winding highway to the Continental Divide,
Snake coiling for its own purpose,
Tortoise carrying heavy-duty shell with meaningful walk,
Red silk rustled,
Hearty blue-blood aristocracy
With its blue ribbon blown in the wind
From the palace window
Is this such a woman as deserves a coronation ceremony attended by
the galaxies, the stars and the world of yes and no?
Is she such a woman as is never hampered by a dirty, greasy,
bullfighter, manslaughtering, unworthy man?
I wonder whether she has tasted her blood
Or her nectar.
Glory be to our Queen!
Lust is for everybody, by the gallons;
Envy is for one, who picks and chooses
Like a woodpecker digging after one worm.

However, everybody's a lover--
Let's celebrate in love!

7 March 1975
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:51 am

DYING LAUGHING

It is ironic that the pigeon got run over by a car.
It is sad that the M.C.P. people got insulted.
What's wrong with you is that you talk too much--
Or, for that matter, think.
Yesterday was a glorious day
Today is reasonable but a bit chilly.
Boomslangs never made friends with man,
But boa constrictors swallowed a church
And assumed its shape.
Joshua Zim appreciates highlights,
Or for that matter deep throat.
Flip a coin!
Take a chance!
What is the worth of all these thoughts?
A mustache is not worth it
If there is no mustacher.
On the whole, it's a gigantic black hole
Where things come and go in and out,
Sometimes cheap sometimes extravagant.
The world is a big mind
Which reacts to all conclusions.
Scattered thoughts are the best you can do.
Let the mercury jump on a drummer's drum
Breaking and gathering--
What's wrong with you is
You think too much,
Talk;
So don't talk
Or think;
Or, not talk first,
Then don't think;
Or, don't think first,
Then talk.
But finally we find non-talker, thinker;
Non-thinker, talker.
Let's forget about it all--
Om Shanti
Shhh
But don't ...

Do it all anyway!
Let's do it completely!
That the whole universe could be exasperated
And die laughing!

7 March 1975
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:52 am

KUNGA GARMA

Jalapenos are good to eat
Antelope has slanted eyes
There comes a rocket
Alice is magnificent
She's courageous
Fun-fair
Jalapenos seem to be good
In the midst of your surroundings
Biting
Hot
Tongue subjugator
Throat warmer
Alligatorial bite
Crocodillian nastiness
Oh Jalapeno
Montezuma's revenge
Lips of rectum may suffer from too much jalapeno
The next day.
A peacock has feathers
A tortoise has a shell
David Rome has a mustache
Gem business
How ironical the whole thing
The Star of David shines
In the midst of Mermelstein parental warmth
Action speaks louder than word.

Jade rock resides majestically
With a silk scarf of misty cloud wrapped around its neck,
Overhung by haunted pine trees
Pretending they are old hags
Welcoming guests who appreciate the view.
Acting as sages,
Wise frogs leap about in the atmosphere of humid rainy misty dim stove burning with an inner glow
While the ethnic mothers cook their porridge
With rustic smile.
Turtles walk slowly but surely in the midst of dimples of footprints
Which turn into puddles.
Tibetan sad-happy flute plays in the distance
While the roaring engines of jets resound overhead.
In the grove of maple trees
Where the bees cannot exist
Primrose, sagebrush, tamarisk hedges are growing magnificently,
Utterly competing with arrogant pampas grass shoots.

Who cares?
How cares?--
In the midst of jalapeno dumpling
Bitten by Alice's white teeth,
Which are lubricated with feminine saliva
And gentle touch.
The swelling of her femininity,
Acting as fabulous flexible rock,
Could be swayed by wind as if a tree.
No one has seen a dancing rock,
Powerful tree,
Punctuated by occasional freckles
On her old-aged motherly face
Which still remains magnificently youthful as a teenager.

Cuckoos and cockroaches speak different languages,
As Alice does.
Kung fu masters are subjugated by the beauty of Holiday Inn
In its magnificent funky service.
America has grown old
But still is getting younger,
Thanks to the presidential resignation of Nixon's scream
And hush hush that goes with it.
Another Star of David is jalapeno.
In midst of donkey's dung pussy cat is killed
Because of its Ginsberg resentment
To the Rockefellerian manipulation.
Arabs produce good coffee
With a dash of oil in it--
But nobody is comparable to the Alice in Wonderland's Jalapeno
trip.
Glory be to the would-be last monarch,
Prince Charles,
Who has no idea of jalapeno
Or our Alice.

March 1975
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:52 am

1111 PEARL STREET (VICTORY CHATTER)

Image

As an old soldier
Watching the territory:
Flags go up and down
Where the soldiers gather;
Hearing distant archery contests;
Horses are unsaddled in the meadow;
Flute of a soldier who is in love;
Listening to the creaking of the cannon swayed in the wind.
The sound of the flute fades away;
The banner of victory is fluttered by the breeze;
Rustling of armor takes place constantly.
Occasional smell of horse dung,
Occasional cheerful chatter of the armed force--
I bide in the tent, the general,
Listening to the occasional grasshopper's leap:
How grateful to be a soldier.
Ah! storm rises,
Gold-black cloud in the southern quarter
I can hear the flag fluttered violently by the wind.
A thought occurs to me:
"Somebody's getting out of the administration."
And another:
The memory of a whistling arrow on the battlefield
And the high-pitched echo of swift swordsmanship.
A thought occurs to me:
"Somebody's getting into business,"
As the horses begin to neigh
They are ready for tomorrow's battle:
"Somebody's going to teach philosophy tomorrow
And get out of the administration at the end of the week."
The cloud from the south moves close to the center of the sky,
Dark with wrath.
We hear resounding deep thunder.
The warriors' fight must go on
Vigor and bravery
Sharp sword
Well-cared-for bows and wrestling armor
Are our only resources.
Frontier warfare is sad and happy,
It is romantic and treacherous.
Oh! How I feel that I am a good soldier,
A good general,
Listening to the rustling of armor
Where the white tents are blown by the wind.
We are sharpening our swords and our arrowheads.
How romantic to be fighters
Conquering the American plains!
Good luck to Boulder
Rock
The Rocky Mountains
The pine trees--
Full of fantastic battlegrounds.
The kingdom rests at eleven and eleven.
It is good to fight,
It is good to know that victory is,
It is good that I alone can wage this particular warfare.
Sharpened sword
Arrowheads
I fight in the old fashion.

2 July 1975
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:53 am

WAIT AND THINK

Wounded son--
How sad.
Never expected this.
Oily seagulls
Crippled jackal
Complaining flower--
Very sad.
Is it?
Is it?
Is it?
Maybe a couple of doughnuts might cure
Or, for that matter, wine that is turning into vinegar.
Little flowers
Snow drops
Early bird--
Hopefully gentle breeze will turn into hurricane.
That might be somebody's wild guess.
William Burroughs' rhetoric
Single-minded
Street dogs
Thieving dogs--
Oh how fantastic this world.
Julius Caesar never made it.
Suns and moons have their problems,
The galaxies of stars have their problems among them.
Mysterious world sad and happy:
The problem is that we are too serious.
Gurdjieffian literal thinking
Theosophical secrecy
Maroon car
Defective door
Glorious in the name of one-upmanship.

Does His Holiness sneeze?
Does His Holiness cough?
If he does,
Who doesn't?
If he doesn't,
Who does?
Truth of the matter is
We are a gigantic spider
Constantly weaving webs
But never giving birth.
Who is not brave enough to swallow the sun
Eat the earth
Bathe with the galaxies?
Let us join this feast
Free from orgy and ritual.
Hallelujah!
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:53 am

MISSING THE POINT

Brain hemorrhage
Sick pigeon
Trust in the heart
Good soldier
Neat girl in the cosmic whorehouse--
Our minds becoming bigger and smaller
As if they were Lynn's mustache
Which gets bigger and smaller as he talks.
Stalagmite stalactite
Mutual love affair
Today I rose relatively early.
My thoughts are constant
Like a leak in an old castle
Plop plop plop ploo plop.
Things go on--
Suddenly a nasty thought,
Deep sigh;
Pleasant thought,
Longing sigh.
The chatters of Hasprays continue like subconscious gossip.
Does mind speak?
Does mind walk?
Sometimes walk speak,
Speak walk.
Who is instigating all this?
Maybe the uranium that makes atom bombs
Shooting star
Allegorical presentation of the dharma
Historical confirmation of the antidisestablishmentarian sophistication of the seemingly sane society of the past.
July Fourth
Flash of fireworks--
At the same time,
Lingering thought tells me
My private secretary is really drunk.

Nitpicking
Farfetched--
This rock is problematic:
If it were arranged,
It could complain to the artist;
But since it is not,
No one to sue.
Expectation of the future is too much.
Glory be to somebody's cow dung--
It is too lucid to blame.
There goes everything
Down the drain.

4 July 1975
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:53 am

RMDC, ROUTE 1, LIVERMORE

In the blue sky with no clouds,
The sun of unchanging mind-essence arises;
In the jungle of pine trees swayed by winds,
The birds of chattering thoughts abide;
Among the boulders of immovable dignity,
The insects of subconscious scheming roam;
In the meditation hall many practice dhyana,
Giving birth to realization free of hope and fear,
Through devotion to the only father guru
The place of dharma has been founded,
Abundant with spiritual and temporal powers:
Dead or alive, I have no regrets.

4 July 1975
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