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Dharma Bums

Updated: May 7



Surrounded by mirrors,

And they’re all so empty,

Reminding me of times

That my mind felt nifty

Enough t’keep me company,

And there wasn’t this fear

Of dirty 30 gettin’ near;

But age is just a number,

I guess, when every day’s

A bummer and your life’s

A mess.


How astray I’ve led myself

from my self.

Been too damn concerned

About jobs and wealth —

Stressin’ about credit scores,

Rent and retirement,

Scarcely sparin’ a cent

On my own mental health.


I’m slowing down.

Everyone’s speeding up,

Chasin’ glitzy crowns

& gettin’ tipsy off

corporate cups —

Slavery to the mammary glands

of suit ‘n’ tie deities;

Worshipping that elusive dollar;

Whipped and poked

& the flame of their anxieties

‘neath them stoked by fear of failure.


Seems like Civilized Life’s allure’s

To lift off far from the ground,

Forget about soul and soil around,

But I want nothing of that

With but a rucksack on my back,

hitchhikin’ out east to west, north to south.

Gonna sleep next to brooks

& big river mouths

And look to get starry-eyed slumber

All alone, blanketed by warm summer

In groves overgrown

As my dreams rove

As the brook does

Into the kaleidoscopic magic

of the Milky Way unknown.

 

Would it be strange at all

To live ‘mongst the trees,

Answer my bohemian call

& disappear with the breeze?

Be a Zen lunatic,

Dharma bum prayin’ on my knees,

Spontaneously yodeling the bebop

Of poems and art from my heart

On the sides of mountains;

Drumming sick Zimbabwe beats with sticks

all over the land;

moon-maddened

With my toes in the sand;

Brew some green tea in the mornings,

Silent ‘mongst the dew,

Lotus style, still as a praying mantis —

Hakuna Matata trances —

Done with contributing

To the world’s industrial chorus.

The bearded bodhisattvas bard born anew.






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