It’s the Blood Not Poem

Note: We are human and we make mistakes, but sometimes we nibble at the tiny ones and ignore the big things that surround us. These smallest faults can cost us everything—quarrels, divorces, suicides. This poem speaks of suffering between a husband and wife who misunderstand each other. The misunderstanding is born from not knowing who they truly are. Sharing and trust matter if we are to avoid a broken heart. This poem reflects what I feel and what I have seen over the fences.



My tears roll onto this page
because I have no choice.
A sorrow overflows unceasingly—
so painful to bear.
My life is thwarted,
lacerated,
torn apart.

I am living only to die.
I cannot change.
Only you can.
The dark lines will remain—
this faded excitement,
this dimmed view,
this dullness.
I cannot see.
Why can't I?
What have I done?
Was I so unlike myself?

Can you not cry
seeing me fall?
Have I wronged you?
My many wrongs
have been shattered by your one wrong.
You separated me.
This one is brutal—
it has destroyed me.

Now I drink my own tears,
drinking to make them stop,
but they keep flowing,
carving rivers down my face.
I am fickle, lost, nervous,
lifeless, oblivious,
making enemies of my own feelings.
I blame this. I curse it.
Is this my destiny?
Why am I here?
Why did I come?
I don't know anymore.
I am pointless now,
wandering a bewildered street,
drifting toward dreary, empty places.

Without your love,
I wander like a ghost,
kicking bricks,
punching crumbling walls.
I don't feel the pain.
I tear my skin red.
I run back and forth,
screaming inside—
what place is this?

People pass by.
I drift through the crowds.
No one glances at me.
No one notices what is next to them.
I am alone in the masses.
I feel this because you made me alone.

My feet carry on,
and the aches carry on.
Days scratch me raw.
I try to focus, but it's useless.
This world of charms and joys—
it belongs to others, not to me.
I am far from the magic of living,
stuck in a corner of misery.

Depression hovers over me like fog,
thick with reasons why
we should never have been separated.
What will happen to our children?
What will happen to the trust of our relatives?
To you and me—
our meetings, our memories,
our attachments, our affections—
every detail will slowly be killed.

Now those relationships crush me.
I was so attached.
I call out, howling,
throwing myself on the floor.
Love is killing me.
My skull is breaking.
Why is life cracking like this?
Why was life made this way?
I didn't create this situation.
No one planned this.
It is a movie,
and it has reached its cruel climax—
to lay myself down,
buried,
dying like a wounded cat,
freeing myself from everyone's care and burden.

Because I have always been a poor man.
I was never meant to be well-off.
I was never suited to be a husband or a father.
I was never made to love.

Let me lie down now.
A broken man has no heart left to give.
Let no one disturb this ruined corpse.
What sin did I commit?
The offense of loving?
The sin of giving care that was never returned?
The fault of fathering children?
The failure of keeping silent?

Everything happens in life—
but not in love!

I am dead from my sins.
These sins drive me mad.
Let me be punished if I have wronged you.
But don't you see—these are our sins?
Don't you understand—this is our life?

I listen to how others live.
They speak of interference, obstacles, rebukes—
all parts of life.
Each person has limited love,
further bound by their children.
Yet they stay together.
They know each other.

You said, and I said, that we have
sharing, understanding—that we can grow again.
But slowly, you must know me,
and I must know you.
Who am I?
Who are you?
Where did we go wrong?

I never truly knew you or myself.
That is where we failed.
A person must be sensible, no matter what.
Sense is a matter of reality.
We cannot live a poetic life—
all people are pulled down to the grave.

Now I have a mind again,
and I feel I cannot go on.
It is unbearable to live without you.
The distance I keep now—
is it the distance of a million years?
The gap between us,
the gap between our children—
is it just a shadow's width?
No. The gap is a mountain of shadow.

As you wished,
as you wanted me to leave—
this distance, this gap,
these spaces and mountains between us—
they are unbearable.

When you spoke those wavering words,
when your father told me to get a divorce,
I did what you wanted.
I asked for what I needed,
but you could not give it.
For the love of you,
I gave everything.

I am a nag. Yes, I nag.
But now, here I am—crying.
I cry.
The songs I hear turn into tears.
The room I live in drowns me.
I am being crushed
between two walls.
I am bleeding.
My blood is nothing but tears.

Our children are crying too.
You may be crying as well.
Our children might be longing for sweets.
What made you cry?

Here I am, sleepless night after night,
tossing and turning,
glimpsing at the memories—
the incidents we created together,
now buried underground.
They rise up vividly on the walls.

You may say, "I am different from others."
We are different.
But we are bound by one thing—
an unbreakable love.

My favorite Buddhist Parables

Many teachings of Buddhism is taught and told in short and delightful parables. They are usually designed to develop the mind and to free it from distortions and so to connect with our spirit.

Many of them are really inspiring and enlightening. It is helpful to the mind to think about them and feel the deeper meaning. Even if it is not possible to grasp them fully, the beauty and simplicity of the message usually get through to us one way or the other.

Some parables are a selection of the ones I found most inspiring and really worth pondering about. Some may be instantly understood, some others need to be thought through and recognized in oneself. We must always keep in mind two crucial principles: the Buddha Mind and serious practice. Without practice, and without the determination to achieve Buddha-hood for the benefit of all sentient beings (Bodhi Mind), parables merely feed the intellect and may become, in the words of D.T. Suzuki, "mere bubbles." 

1.       The Moving Flag

Two Buddhists monks were arguing about a flag flapping in the wind.

"It's the wind that is really moving," stated the first one.

"No, it is the flag that is moving," contended the second.

A third interrupted them. "Neither the flag nor the wind is moving," he said, "It is MIND that is moving."

2.       Goddess of Wealth / Goddess of Poverty

Once a beautiful and well-dressed woman visited a house. The master of the house asked her who she was and she replied that she was the goddess of wealth. The master of the house was delighted and so greeted her with open arms. Soon after another woman appeared who was ugly looking and poorly dressed. The master asked who she was and the woman replied that she was the goddess of poverty. The master was frightened and tried to drive her out of the house, but the woman refused to depart, saying, 'The goddess of wealth is my sister. There is an agreement between us that we are never to live apart; if you chase me out, she is to go with me.' Sure enough, as soon as the ugly woman went out, the other woman disappeared.

Birth goes with death. Fortune goes with misfortune. Bad things follow good things. Men should realize this. Foolish people dread misfortune and strive after good fortune, but those who seek Enlightenment must transcend both of them. (from The Teaching of the Buddha)

3.       A True Buddha

Three monks were drinking tea.

The Buddhist master asked the first monk, “What do you drink with your tea?”

The first monk replied, “I drink suffering, loneliness and make peace and happiness.”

The master nodded and exclaimed, “Oh, you are great, an enlightened one. You go now.”

The same question was asked to the second monk.

And the second monk replied, “I drink Buddha’s teaching, compassion and the Buddha himself with the tea.”

The master now fully satisfied with his explanation said, “You are a truly Buddha, an enlightened one. You too go.”

Then the master asked the third monk, “What do you drink with your tea?”

The third monk replied, “I picked out the fly from the tea cup and drink only tea.”

The master smiled and said, “You are the right person to sit in my place.”

And the master gave his sit to the third monk.

4.       The Buddha

There were two monks.

Younger is sitting in zazen.

Elder inquires, “Why are you sitting in zazen?”

Younger replies, “By sitting in zazen, I hope eventually to become a Buddha.”

Elder picks up a brick and begins rubbing it on a rock.

Younger laughs, “And what are you doing?”

Elder replies, “I am polishing this brick in hopes that eventually it will become a mirror.”

(The advanced story ends here, but for the rest of us it continues.)

Younger asks, “How can polishing a brick make a mirror?”

Elder retorts, “How can sitting in zazen make a Buddha!”

(And, true to the ancient formula, the younger monk instantly became a mirror.)

This is A New Place

It is blistering. It is hot. It is tough. This is a new place. This is Yebilaptsa. This is a different place. But I don’t feel different. It is the same feelings - the feelings of lowliness and remoteness hang like goiters as of now. Because I am brutally separated from my loving family, I feel that if not this place is simply good. I think the powerful magnetic force of Zhemgang - every little thing of this place has pulled me here, aside. I believe that things will turn out good when it seems not so to me.

To be frank, Yebilaptsa is a beautiful place, the school and the hospital are located just four kilometers from Tingtibi and the national highway of Gelephug-Zhemgang-Trongsa that runs just below school. Yebilaptsa is surrounded by coniferous pine trees. The smell of cones and the long pine leaves scented around houses and schools. This lowland stands inside a forest of trees. The nearest village is almost four kilometers. There are only a few private buildings. All houses are for school and the hospital.

The school is MSS. It is a boarding school. There are 410 plus students schooled in by 22 teachers and countable numbers of supporting staff. There are as many cooks as the teaching staff. The classes range from seven to ten. The students here are well-behaved - a polite one, and very hard working. I came to know that this school is one of the best in the country. In a class, students’ silence could hear flowers budding. They believe in what teachers say. I told them only yesterday that they shouldn’t believe in everything in what they hear or read. I told them to experience and see themselves.

The fans of rooms rotate slowly, churning away heat. The lousy sleep creeps in. I am lying down. And it is almost winter, time to migrate, for good.

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Praise is Worth a Thousand P☺unds

"What an imagination, Kinley!" a teacher praised his student.

Kinley smiled and said, "Thank you."

The teacher then asked another question. All the students put their hands up.

"Let me…," someone said.

The teacher has a very complaisant and lively class. The teacher considers the students good friends, and the students see the teacher as the sun—a sun that shines warmly and equally on everyone.

The teacher uses encouraging remarks every time his pupils make slight progress. The students work hard to receive the best remarks from their teacher. They glow with interest, growing more curious, and prepare themselves to give the best responses. They are curious about what the next good word might be! They want to please the teacher, and the teacher wants to impress them—fulfilling both their objectives and goals in the end.

The teacher uses many forms of verbal and written reinforcement, such as: "How smart!" "I'm proud of you." "What a good listener!" "Magnificent." "That's the best." "Awesome." "Remarkable job." "Super work." "Outstanding." "Exceptional." (These are some frequently used remarks.) Besides these, the teacher also makes written comments, gives pats on the back, applause, smiles, gestures, gifts, and acknowledgments. The skill of reinforcement is a basic tool that a teacher uses to enhance teaching and learning.

For a systematic and successful teaching-learning process, feedback that is relevant, immediate or timely, factual, helpful, respectful, and sometimes confidential as needed, would be of great assistance.

Students also learn to do good things through good remarks. Pupils are like tender bean plants—if not supported, they will not flourish and bear fruit.

Scientific studies have found that a misbehaving person can become good in a pleasant environment or surroundings, and vice versa. Psychologists also argue that "students of teachers who emphasize teaching behaviors such as praise and encouragement tend to learn more than students of teachers who emphasize criticism and punishment," and that teachers who "check students' progress regularly and adjust instructions accordingly" are using effective teaching strategies.

Therefore, in the teaching-learning area, the kind of environment and strategies adopted will decide and affect students' studies and their lives throughout.

An encouraging class will be supportive and attentive, and by way of that, develops enthusiasm for learning.

If observed thoroughly, people's mannerisms will show that the magic of reinforcement in teaching has a profound effect on their studies and their lives.

What are soothing to our ears are nicely said, sweet words—just as sweets are sweet to our mouths. We desire them, and sometimes we demand them. Students, especially, must sometimes "deserve and desire."

Words Can Make You Cry

Words can make you cry.

They can break your heart into pieces,

forcing back the times you never wanted to remember.

Pains throttle you.

Memories deceive you-

deflated and deflected,

life moves on

always depleted.

Memories of unkind days

bring only streams of tears.

They are part of life,

and acceptance is a fate.

Hush, don’t weep.

No one will care.

You let go

And forget to remember.

That's the way.