Poem: Shrine Room Blues


Oh lawd!

I got them

Sayin’ goodbye

To the shrine room blues

All those beautiful thangkas

Of deities and protectors

I carry in my mind

As iridescent gateways

To the pungency of

Ineffable worlds

The great golden Buddha

So placid and inspiring

I’ve had to, reluctantly,

Close the door upon

Until we meet again

But these palaces are always built

Inside my mind

As the emanations of the dharmakaya

Manifesting everywhere

Shrine room,

Shrine room,

What isn’t a shrine room?

A wrathful realm

Of placenta and corpses

Glows more dreaded

Than the deafening diffusion

Of death’s thirsty applause

I’ll span the realms

In a single step

Without ever exerting a muscle

Before the charitable kleptomaniacs

Steal my obscurations

And cast those blues away



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