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Spiritual Junkie Poetry David Swan www.dpswanwriter.com

Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

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Page 1: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Spiritual Junkie Poetry

David Swan

www.dpswanwriter.com

Page 2: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords Copyright 2011 David Swan

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for use only, then please return to smashwords.com and purchase your own

copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Page 3: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Table of Contents

JunkieMother and Baby

LonerFood

Last WordsWhat Matters

God KingThe Fabric of Existence

Fiery Tigers’ TailsThe PiperRotterdam

Collateral DamageI AM

TransientRise

The Hope of AfricaThe River

The Heart of ItChild Soldier

The SingularityThe Wall

Solitary Pilgrim

Page 4: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Junkie

Hey you junkie!Brown-eyed and bushy tailed.Crying like a true artist.Tears soaked all over your suit.Thoughts written across your face.Your brick-heavy head liesDead on my sofa whileYou dream of methadone martyrdomAnd fields made of needlesAnd wishes that betrayed you.

Hey you junkie!Get you some civility.Don’t bribe me with GinsbergAnd his strange words that still my centre.You revealed the coward in meThe full-time fool.Stop crying about your wife!Your face is an ugly turtle and This whole world is your zoo.The benches are all emptyAnd the skies are way too full.

Page 5: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Mother and Baby

What strange creature lies before me Without a name to know you

So I could accuse youOf leaving my belly so cold.

Some say God sent you.Darwin mentions evolution

But you seem so otherworldly.Staring at me with history,

Looking like peace.There’s knowledge in the weight of you.

I heard philosophical men once speakOf Karma.

Are you my mother?Did I do wrong?

Slowly you will grow oldJust as empires do.

But for me they’ll build a pyre.And I’ll set sail,

While the flames dance, snap, and crack.

Page 6: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Loner

You see me here ponderingBedraggled old loner

Unshaven hunter of dreamsWriter of words not yet written

Singer of songs not yet sungAnd the lover of loves

Not yet won.

Page 7: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Food

Send me down the riverLet this discarded body lie.Let it rot amongst the liliesAnd be nurtured by the sky.

Bury me in the garden, and letMy blood make flowers grow.

Allow my tears to water hedgesAnd with my death let sorrow go.Take my body to the mountainsAnd let vultures be my guest.

Let my flesh be food for comfortWhile my soul in heaven rests.

Page 8: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Last Words

He hung there like a fake RembrandtBeautiful but false.

His slender arms stretched like Twisted towels.

His legs delicately crossed.

The beauty of his body raised before me;An unwilling shroud.

The blood from his foreheadMoistened his lips as he raised his head

And said to me,

‘God is dead! God is dead! Tell the people so.

Your future dies with me.Your Father never was.

And your prayers remain unanswered.Just lonely echoes in an empty universe.’

Page 9: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

What Matters

What matters for some is dark chocolate,And that silky, sexy, bittersweet taste.

What matters in the minds of rich people,Matters less in the minds of the poor.

What matters are stars born from emptiness,And crumpled quilts on children’s unmade beds.

What matters most is my mother, cancerRidden, and that phone call to say I care.

What matters is that you really know me,And as human beings all share my fate.

Matter, matters to the mad scientists,But it doesn’t matter to faithful priests.

What matters to them are affairs of theHeart. What matters to them both is truth.

What matters to me is an open mind,And chewing all things on an open path.

What matters can be the question of death,Buried beneath a system of belief.

What matters in heaven, matters in hell,And if neither exists, and God is dead.

What matters most are these fragile winterSticks, that can snap, and break, in a heartbeat.

Page 10: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License
Page 11: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

God King

I am the God King of all theBuddhas. My feet are firmly

Grounded on either side of theUniverse. My staff is centred.

I hold past and future like lilies,In the palms of my hands. I appearAt once in all directions. My many

Faces, reflections of the divine.

Words like Truth, Love, and GOD,Are merely signposts pointing to the

Bottomless and inexplicableVastness of that which I am.

Birth and Death are gates throughWhich we pass through endlessly.

Time and Space, only nails hammeredIn. To give structure, to substance.

Cast off your false expectations ofEnlightenment, and feel your feet

On the ground, and rainbowsWill appear in all directions.

Page 12: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

The Fabric of Existence

What if someone said to you,‘Would you like to meet the fabric of existence?’

And you said, ‘Yes.’

What would it be like?What colour would it be?

Would it be large and if so,How large?

Could you touch it?Or smell it?

Or even bring it back to show your parents.

What would you tell them?

‘I’d like you to meet the fabric of existence.’Do you think they would be shocked?‘What’s his name?’ cries your mum.

‘Where’s he from?’ enquires your dad.‘And what do his parents do!’

But he has no name.Comes from nowhere.

And certainly has no parents.

But he loves to play,Always playing;

Page 13: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

With time,With creation,

With the destructionOf stars and dreams.

Endlessly creating new people, new planets, new languages, new species.

If you met the fabric of existenceHow would you feel?

Maybe scared, initially.

Something so vast.No boundariesNo signposts

No name to call it.

And to see it completelyYou would have to give up your ground.

Can you handle that?

To have no name,No boundaries.

No sense of self or place in thisVast and uncompromising universe.

Yes? No?

Maybe you would put it back and say no thanks.I’m quite happy with who I am.

My laptop, my living room, my unconventional eating habits.

Maybe you would put him in a box,And call him GOD.

Labels are nice.Boxes are nice.

To contain things is nice.

And if your parents ask,

‘Where did that big, ugly, friend of yours go?

Page 14: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

You know the one without names, or boundaries, or parents.’

And you would say,‘I don’t know he just disappeared.’

Page 15: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Fiery Tigers’ Tails

I chase fiery tigers’ tails.Sometimes they burn my fingers.

I cool my fingers in turquoise watersWhile the tranquil waters of the lake

Play with my reflection.

Fiery tigers they have funny tailsThat are longer than my Dad.

They stretch out across the skiesLeaving tiger trails across space.

Fiery tigers like to call my nameThey invite me out to dance.

In a trance my feet twist and turnHypnotised my hands twist and shakeAs I pirouette across the desert floor.

By night time I’ve grown tiredOf chasing fiery tigers’ tails.So I sleep on the desert floor.

A desert fox keeps the wind from meStars become my bedtime light.

When I sleep I dream of fiery tigersThey sing and dance to tempt me.

But in my dreams I can flySo I chase fiery tigers across the sky.

I chase them to the edges of spaceWhere a million tigers are running.Their long fiery tigers’ tails light up

The edges of the universe.As they endlessly eat into empty space.

Page 16: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License
Page 17: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

The Piper

The piper stands feet firm on the ground.His heart points towards the north.

Strong gales blow down childless lochsWhile huddled elders whisper Gaelic tales.

Some say ghosts lay along this roadSouls of clansmen drenched in blood.Tartan cloth and skin become bone,

Hands clenched tight, moulded to metal.

Draped in this flag dark blue and white.A cross that bears the scar of repression.

Some say we dance to a southerner’s tuneBut we say the piper stands alone.

How long to wait for the rallying call?Remaining servants to distant cousins.Some say that we fear to go it alone,To tread without sisters and brothers.

But what use is a fire without a hearth?

Page 18: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Rotterdam

Straight lines no curvesHistory bombed flat.

A cold naked canvas atThe mercy of adventurous architects.

Meticulous plans laid down from theDreams of scholarly men.

Turning ghosts whispersFrom the ethereal, to the angular.

Some say dispassionate, abstractForms of tactless construction.

I see true peace in symmetryA prayer in concrete form.

Page 19: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Collateral Damage

The best time is early in the morning.When the sun lifts its eyelids across

The desert floor, and the smoky swirlsOf burning oil are chased away.

The smell of cheap black coffeeThat catches the back of your throat.

The sight of your first target.My gun is a cross on which I die daily.

When squinting through the cross hairMy enemy could be galaxies away.My heartbeat is beating in my ear.

How could you be so cold they say?

But I was trained to shoot targets.Trained to ‘not’ think, just do.

There’s no room for a chance to say,‘Drop your weapons,’ and ask what side you’re on.

To kill is drilled into me, to question,Left by officers. They provide the excuses.

One minute a hero. Next a psychopath.They say, ‘Why didn't you identify?’

One woman, a husband, and one child.Burning sunlight in downtown Baghdad.

Faces of hatred thrown at me. EveryHuman being a potential target.

But what some say is wrong, isSometimes considered right, and warStrips you of your humanity. Takes

Your soul, and nails it to a cross.

Page 20: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License
Page 21: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

I AM

I am small but can be tall.I am fat, thin, black, white,

Funny, and sad.I am the sun rising early in the morning

Then descending slowly till I am the night.I am the love your mother gave you, but

I am the hate that made you fight.I am the sex that makes love to you sweet and light.

I am WAR. A seed hidden deep within you,Stripping you bare with all my might.

I will give you the strength to build yourself up,And with a single word, bring you crashing down.

I am fear.I am thunder.

I am a rainy day.I am a sunray.

My storms have wreaked havoc across continentsRendered countries helpless, thousands dead.

Children motionless with despair.

My wars have taken humanity toThe darkest regions of its soul.

I am Holocaust.I am Atom Bomb.

And when the world finally collapses to its kneesUnable to witness its own destruction.

I will come.

For I am hope in the distance,Coming out of the darkness into the light.

I am God, but the Devil too.

Page 22: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Do not try to understand me, forI will turn you insane.

Trust in me.I am out there but in here.

I am the Universe and beyond.

I am all.I am everything.

But most importantly of all,

I am nothing.

Page 23: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Transient

Moroccan firebirdLong tail trailing,Curly hair held

Tight in my fists,Arms and legs wrappedRound like vine leaves.

My knuckles kneadYour doughy skinOur eyes lock andI see Love: Death.

Time doesn’t existWhen I am with you

But death does,A grinning skull.

Love is transient.

Page 24: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Rise

I rise earlyAnd sit on my

Zafu.

Outside lightningStrikes,

Inside theBuddhaSpeaks.

Page 25: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

The Hope of Africa

From the ashes roseAfrica,

A phoenix of pureSunlight.

Its vast wings ofAntiquity,

Shadowed across a continent.

A mother’s arms shielding itsNewborn

From an imperialist sun.

Its velvet and silky wingsSoar across the friendly and tender

African skies.Its voice

Sings songs from fallen angelsAbout the hidden fruits

They once tasted.

The hope of Africa one day returning,On wings borrowed from

African’s sorrow.

Page 26: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

The River

Tired and brown the river winds downThrough mudflats and derelict houses.Its steady stream gazed upon by lovers,

Thieves, and untainted children.

Its water courses through cities and townsAnd abandoned waterways. Sounds of

Modern distractions held back byUntamed brambles and gnarled branches.

The river reflects hands held to facesAnd absorbs the tears of young men.Sometimes the shadows of flies twirl

Unpredictably: as is the nature of things.

The river runs on for miles and milesOblivious to its surroundings. All are welcome

To gaze upon its hypnotic surface, and tryTo fix an eye upon its movement.

But the river moves on from mountain to sea,And it has no story to tell.

Page 27: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

The Heart of It

Was in the stone.

But you can’t hear anything.You can’t see anything.

It offers you no teachings.

Just sits there.

Round, smooth, the weight of an Angel.A symbol of peace.

Its illusory solidity confirmed,By Scientists and Buddhists alike.

Confirmation definite.

Its silent sound vibrates from the centre,The endless cycles of the universe.

A never ending gyroscopic descent,Into the heart of matter.

Page 28: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Child Soldier

I am a child soldier and I have never seenThe plains of Africa. My battlefields are

The living rooms of tired tenement blocks,And semi-detached houses everywhere.

I stare out across carpets and see shrapnelOf smashed teacups and photo frames.Scratched records spin endlessly round‘Singing bye-bye Miss American Pie.’

I protect the Angel an embattled old soulWho holds aloft her bottle of Martini

Like Joan of Arc, & sings the blues likeBillie Holiday. Cigarette smoke twirling.

And you my sodden father. Drunken oldTeacher. Zen master with war-weary tales.

Your tears and spit would often mix into yourPalms when you firmly shook my hand.

Don’t you know the Queensberry rules?She can’t dance like a butterfly, but youSure sting like a bee. And now the whole

World to me is Joe Frazier, and I amMuhammad Ali.

Page 29: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

The Singularity

Bending a singularityIs very simple don’t you see.

Take a finger pinch of space dustAnd split time with eternity.

Grab the corners of the universeAnd with some water add a dash.

Bend the curves without a nervous twitchAnd don’t forget to catch the flash.

View the flash under a microscopeThen with a knife slice through the middle.

And you’ll see right in the heart of it,A singularity playing the fiddle.

If you’re patient, why not wait a whileFor this wondrous song to end.

Then ask the singularityIf it wouldn’t mind giving a bend.

Page 30: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

The Wall

You stand there looking at the wall.It has a blackness that can’t be penetrated.

A thickness that offers no hope.And silence that can last for eternity.

You notice a gate with a sign that reads,‘Leave everything behind.’

So you take of your clothes;Shoes, hats, socks and shirt.

Then leave behind your family;Your father, mother, sister, and brother,

And cousins too.

You place aside those memoriesOf all you’ve ever done.Then remove your body.

Your hair. Your teeth. Your blood. Your bones.In a nice pile please.

You stand there as nothing,And open the gate.

But there’s nothing there except a sign that reads,

BIG JOKE

And the wall starts to laugh. Everything starts to laugh.Everyone starts to laugh: So you should laugh too.

Page 31: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License
Page 32: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Solitary Pilgrim

I sit in the Sahara Desert, contemplating.After the war to end all wars finished.

Sun tracing my back, wishing the world was flat.All human life vanished, in an instant.

Some animals left angry and confused, I their master.

I have the last flower picked from a field in Iran,Dried and placed between the pages of a book.

I drank the last drop of water from the Indian ocean,Surviving on tears till they dried too.

So here I sit, Solitary Pilgrim. The only one with a key,And always the last to leave.

Slowly the world rotates, whittling itself down to anApple core. I too whittle away until nothing remains.

And from all around me I hear laughter.

Page 33: Spiritual Junkie Poetry€¦  · Web viewSpiritual Junkie Poetry. David Swan. Published by The Spiritual Junkie at Smashwords . Copyright 2011 David Swan. Smashwords Edition, License

Don’t forget to visit me at www.dpswanwriter.com or drop me an email. If you think anyone else would like to purchase this book please forward. Thanks.