joke’s on me

you’re all
in on the joke
but the only thing
i seem to find
laughable
are the reasons
i no longer believe
are good enough
to not make
this
the final punchline.

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

an apology of sorts

Image by Righteous Indignation

Image by Righteous Indignation

i suppose i
shouldn’t be upset
you’re right,
after all
in a way.
i don’t care for you.
i don’t have the energy to.
my compassion and
empathy have been
so abused and
disregarded, even
by my own choices,
that i can no longer
muster the energy
to care. Even for you.

Violin+Birds by Judy Johnson-Williams

Violin+Birds by Judy Johnson-Williams

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

this is Our World (wherein Our hero acknowledges and rejects your reality and proceeds to create His own)

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The Real Banksy
Banksy Goes Gaza

This is Our World. There are many like it, but this one is Ours. Our sky bleeds purple, and god is a chimpanzee train conductor in a top hat who shits Jolly Ranchers and carries a flask full of children’s tears. His name is Roger, but that’s not even his real name. Or FACE!

Patton Oswalt’s monkey god

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Also, we have snickerdoodles. They grow on doodlestalks here. I wonder if there are giants? I’d better go explore…. 😉

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Have you found Our Saviour The Ape of God?

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

A melodramatic and introspective aside concerning the things that stay and those that stay with you…

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Here’s the poor, ignorant bastard with his head so far up his doppelganger’s ass in infinite dimensions that he only now realizes The Meadows are a test.  They are always a test; for those who call them home, the test becomes ingrained, a constant, unwavering embattlement between the Place, the demons, and the soul.

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For those just “passing through” — us Tourists, regardless of intent or purpose — the test is even more subjective; it is a breeze or a burrowing — a kiss or a fist — torture-tailored for and experienced only by the individual.  As it should be.

And this dumb motherfucker, for all of his showy verbose diction and ponderings of the cosmos, is too goddamn dumb to know he failed the Test. Dammit!

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Well…if yer gonna be dumb, yeh gotta be tough.  And also, study more. Otherwise you’ll just stay dumb. 🙂

“We all go down for the sacrificial moment
Crucifixion nails stain the bed of the holy.
Space thing blues diamond studded – sugar coated
Well, I am hell a miracle overloading…” – Rob Zombie

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

but the silence is deafening

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it flows over me
suffocation
scuttling glacial current
pungent cloud, languid
wrapped in wings of leather
panging
a leaden shroud
in cold calculation

i can hear nothing
i can witness nothing
i feel nothing

the weight of all existence
forced down, pressing
oblivion.

silence is the
thunderous echo of voices
voices of We
all folded together, meticulous
patterned intricately, molded

to consume the torturous cries
a bitter mind, unfit
to lash out

We were not prepared for this.

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© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

“What about us, dawg?”

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A pang of guilt. A sense of betrayal. And then, the bitter, cold longing overtook me.

I am in The Meadows with my Lady, Miss Jenn, for a week, getting some quality time in and stoking the fires of our current “long-distance lovers” situation. My darling’s sweetheart pit bull, Sir Oswald the Spastic (Ozzie for short), and his penchant for sloppy, drool-laden affection inspired my recently-posted tongue-in-cheek lyrical “poem,” dat canine flow.

Immediately after posting the laughing Oz rhyme, I fell into a black, cavernous depression: I suddenly missed my own fur-babies terribly, and was consumed by shame at having publicized their brother, His Royal Ozmuth, before any mention of the Teriblé Deuxsome themselves.

So, without further ado, allow me to introduce Our other two “fearsome” pittie babies!

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Miss Molly Malone is our Irish revolutionary expat. She was apprehended in the streets of Tucson several years ago as part of a crackdown on rogue former CanineIRA soldiers now banded together as mercenaries against American prairie dog tyranny in the States. Miss Molly was released to us as part of a kennel-to-home reintegration program, and now searches for rare vinyl online and connects the items with potential buyers for a small fee.

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Herman Claudius von Barksdjik spent much of his life on the streets, eking out a sparse, ascetic existence, ripe with undiagnosed mental illness and post-traumatic stress psychoses from a part of his past we believe may forever be lost to amnesia and the tides of time. After obtaining a moment of enlightened clarity, he bonded with a lovely pair of delightful and unique young women in the street of Barrio Hollywood, Tucson, who showed love and affection for the first time in his forlorn memory. When Becks and Nat were moved along in the rivers of their lives, Herman chose to stay behind. Fortunately, he directed them to find Molly and I, a beacon of empathetic and hopeful light in a sea of uncertainty.

I love Molly for her grace, spirit, kindness, and independance.  But Herman is my canine soulmate.  We understand one another and share our demons on a cosmic, spiritual level.

Fuck my life, I miss them! Soon, puppie faces…soon… 🙂

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.