Catching Fire

The Emperor wears no clothes,

but his pants sure are on fire,

lamenting loudly his woes,

the smokescreen wafting higher,

but each time he flaps his lips

and fans the flames with his lies

the fire catches on new hips

as his yes-men lie likewise

until the flame spreads elsewhere,

burning clothes off in a flash—

a trend that blackens the air

and burns our nation to ash.

Sokushinbutsu

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Try reason instead of
resin;
try moving from your position of
embalmed stubbornness
and grow rather than
mummify
within this mountaintop shrine of
isolated ideology.
You are not a disciple of
Enlightenment,
but a squatter huddling around the sutra
of your own willful
Ignorance.
Changing your mind will not
kill you,
but to cease all intake
except your obstinate beliefs
will make you a lasting
monument
to undecayed
foolishness.
Repeat your mantra of
denial
over and over again
until you assume the silence of perfected
oneness
with your antiquated ideology
while the world moves on
without you.
You could step through the
torii gate
to see a new plane of awareness
but your eyes have been petrified
shut.
The way outward
has been closed
by the way inward.

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