The Punk, The Monk, And The World
My friends and my family scattered across
by Ray Quesada
the land of America; land of the Lost
there's a shortage of love - a shortage of water
a shortage of food - the temperatures hotter
the strangers i've felt for
have shortage of shelter
a shortage of smiles
-the bodies are piled
These are the bodies the monks have knelt for...
worldwide there's chaos -
a small child, a thief
says 'more they must pay us!
my family's in grief! '
the flaw in this system? it encourages greed-
TV says 'Cash over people! '; 'Wants before needs! '
And the monk in his solitude grips to his prayer beads...
all actions have consequence - there are no private deeds
He says 'I pray for the Peace of all living beings-
forgive the dog that bites - and the bee when it stings...'
'False sense of fulfillment in material things';
'The song is for sings - the Gong is for dings.'
When the Sun rises be grateful for the light that it brings
Everything is Everything
'Monk, my hearts a dumpster! My soul, a gutter, needs freed!
from the plagues of the world - from the utter poverty!
He said, 'be quiet - sit - drink some tea...'
'To change the whole world you first change your thoughts
-your suffering has tied your mind in quite some tight knots
you may find Enlightenment - and maybe might not...'
We sat and we drank
we thought and we thank
i went in a trance;
i went in the tank
and when i came out, i danced
for my mind had been Blank
I walked away - went back to the world from which i came
Everything was different...yet exactly the same
Cops still beat the innocent blind with their bats
cats still ate mice - and dogs still chased cats
i was on the other side of town, far from my home
i walked into a coffee shop - pure sky now my dome
my cloud-spattered dome under which i will live and then die
so i sat to write tomes, and poems,
and ordered a black coffee and a slice of pie-
thought about existence, smiled, and bowed my head to cry.