Invoking The Great Protector, Vajrasadhu Poem by Douglas Penick

Invoking The Great Protector, Vajrasadhu



The Roaring Laughter of the Innate which Deceives and Paralyzes All Self Delusion; an invocation to Vajrasadhu, the Supreme Warrior Protector of the Pure Dharma

Great Vajrasadhu, Illusion King
Lord of the Palace of the Six Realms of Being,
If there is wrath, whatever is known is your domain.
If there is pride, whatever is possessed is your domain.
If there is desire, whatever is sensed is your domain.
If there is envy, whatever is imagined is your domain.

Wherever anything arises based on cause and effect,
Lord of Illusion's Endless Play, you appear.
Your body is spontaneous illusion.
Your speech is spontaneous experience.
Your mind is spontaneous awareness.

You wear the round leather helmet of the samaya-bound
Surmounted by the golden wish-fulfilling gem.
Your face is dark red and your three bloodshot eyes flash wildly.
Your hair, eyebrows and beard are golden flames.
Your gold and ruby earrings jangle
As you dance in all the bardo states.

With tongue curled back, you snarl and laugh,
Shouting the sounds of HAH and HO and HEE.
Doubt, self-deception and guile are your food,
Lies, schemes and seduction your favorite drinks.
The entire range of illusion is your plate and goblet.

The swirls of your vast crimson cape
Are the confusion of the six realms.
Your armor is made from conceptual thinking.
Duplicity, conceit and hidden lust
Are the silver ribbons adorning your helmet and sleeves.
Because you do not hesitate to put your hand into any madness
You hold in your right hand a nine-pointed golden vajra.
Because you completely consume all illusion, leaving nothing behind,
You hold a pulsing human heart in your left hand.

Emerging suddenly from your vast Southern palace,
You ride on a turquoise he-goat with twined coral horns
Who emits the pungent scent of every possibility, delightful and repulsive.
You enter this world sometimes slowly, sometimes suddenly,
Sometimes larger than a giant mountain,
Sometimes smaller than a house-fly.

You are surrounded by your retinue
Of one hundred voluptuous and flirtatious dakinis,
Singing, dancing and telling fortunes.
One hundred powerful warriors-
Boastful, lascivious, clever in strategy and oblique attack-
Are your bodyguards.

Chief of your retinue, and arrayed like you,
Carrying golden hammer and bellows,
Is the great artificer, maker of all manner of weapons,
Jewelry, tools, illusions and ingenious diversions.

Your caravan fills the sky like billowing smoke,
And the air is filled with a deafening roar
Of laughter, sobs, chatter, jokes, screams, curses, and whispers.
Monkeys and bears augment the maddening din.

Oh Great Vajrasadhu, you are the supreme protector
Of the dharma that is all pervasive in and beyond form,
The dharma that cannot be limited or circumscribed,
That is beyond truth or falsehood, piety or impiety
Beyond practice or attainment.

You alone protect the purity of the dharma.
You alone protect the reality of the dharma.
You alone protect the life of the dharma.
You alone protect the spontaneity of the dharma.
You alone protect the shocking wonder of the dharma.

Now in this time, when the materialistic outlook
Infests every mind, and all act with an eye to self-advantage;
When logics and fake knowledge are common currency;
The dharma has become an artifact to be bartered.

The Hinayana dharma has become a pretext for fearful rigidity;
The Mahayana has become a pretext for stylishness and condescension;
The sublime Vajrayana has become a pretext
For sloppiness, fraud, and cosmic self-aggrandizement.

Now those who claim to be inspired
Are merely wild and unstable.
Those who claim to be devoted
Are merely desperate and dogmatic;
Those who claim to be of an independent mind
Are merely fickle and self-absorbed;
And those who claim to be ordinary
Are merely resentful and intentionally ignorant.
This time now calls out to you.

Now, Now, Now Vajrasadhu, enter this world
With your carnival of Dharma Protectors,
Shake, turn, wheel, dance, eat, laugh and sing.
Please, as your feast offering,
Consume the mountain of our self-deceived seriousness
And the blood oceans of our self-serving depression and excitement.
Let the true dharma explode in every noise,
Every desire, every color, every taste, every now.

Supreme protector, be with us in this instant.
Be our awake
And do not depart.
HOH HEE HOH HOH HEE HAH
SARVA DHARMA MANGALA SVAHA

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
This invocation appears in Crossings On A Bridge Of Light, Mountain Treasury Press pp.22-24. (avaialable at Amazon.com)
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Gajanan Mishra 25 September 2013

self-serving, good write,

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