Author Archives: Ruben Laukkonen

laughing with someone you love,conquers time,conquers wars,and conquers death,laughing with someone you love,is diving into the ocean after rolling in mud,is drinking ice tea in the desert,is meeting your guru,is timeless, laughing with someone you love is a hair’s breadth from enlightenment

it is marvellous,the existence of things,especially those that live,perhaps we marvelled ourselves into existence,enthralled by our own genius,we dove into a painting

untie the knot in your heart,and remember the child that you are,remember running wild,just to find the best tree to climb,or the best hill to roll down,or the feeling of diving into water,you still love it even now,only you have forgotten,the innocent scent of freedom

to pass through to love,we must be quiet enough,and vulnerable enough,to hear the melody of our pain

the tender way,is the way of fearless humility,meeting life through the body and heart,forgetting aboveness,forgetting belowness,forgetting even beyondness,at home with things,and people

we cup mist in our hands, as it if it were diamonds, slipping through our fingers, we fumble for solid ground

even if you cast me out,into a cardboard box,a solitary cell,or a bed with a disintegrating brain,I will share with you my heart,I will give my body,in exchange for truth,and for the light of existence,I will take the leap over the edge,and find the featherbed,or bed of nails,I do not know even a second more,andContinue reading “solitary”

to touch that part,that hidden gemstone,buried beneath worry,buried beneath fear,buried beneath pride,to touch that part,savour,each thing,each pulse of the senses,each thought a treasure,each impulse a god,each arising a release,and so,what art thou?but a masterpiece

If only I could write,myself out of this poem,it might ring true

serenity in being, the simplest thing, the nothing at our core: the wellspring of our lore. no tale of transcendence,no precious awakening,just a homage to our soul,empty and serene

and I rejoice that we played this game, of hide and seek, for the storm, it was a shower. the fire, it was a heater. the pain, it was a lover. and my freedom, was the sound, of a doorbell… from within my home

it’s okay to put the world aside, now and then, to remember your place, in the garden, never once exiled, never once leaving home

everything being of one substance, which is no-substance, and seeing that every speck of dust, is floating space, what can we hold onto?

tell me, is there a story within you? what does it say, about what you ought to be? do you remember tearing those pages out of a book somewhere? when did they turn to stone, and become so heavy? well, it’s good fortune then, that you’re unable to carry… anything at all

do we really need to prove anything at all? come home, my dear, there’s no shame in the simple, the wilderness is right here

with this cage of ribs, with this narrow mind, with these churning thoughts, a sharp sword through a gentle stream—  I pretend to cut the ocean,  I pretend to imprison the heart 

when tomorrow, has my heart, today, is a sorrow away

there is a stillness inside, where an earthquake could not, shake the edges of your smile

look back and it’s gone,look forward and you’ve become an actor,look straight ahead and assume a posture that is serenely available,truth is total abandon to what must be,it is courage itself,for what is courage but a step forward into a moment without a shape?a fish in a net is as good as dead

laying bare on granite,the sound of the waterfall fills the entire universe,where is there such thing as a problem?

  it is wise not to love someone too much while they are still alive,love them instead each time that they die in your arms,eyes on eyes, hands in hands,take moments to die together each day

  oh how the stars draw us out from the mud of our original homes,tasting fine wine and aged cheese, we lock ourselves in time. we polarise and we jeopardise our innocence for projections of better lives:a greener garden, a deeper love, a bigger bank of plastic paper and kings and queens and untold horrors,Continue reading “an ode to apes in tuxedos”