Fighting the Devil - written 1978

I am fighting the devil in my life

It is powerful and it is hidden.

And it is not a man, not a person.

It casts its shadow over my dreams.

It tries to blind me in my eyes.

It seems to feed upon my screams.

preventing me from seeing the Way.

Shadowing me with fears at the end of the day.

 

But I am a noble fighter, a warrior all the way

and though all tries to steer me towards ruin,

through the power of desires and delusion,

Yet I shall find my way

Using the power of the law of life,

To steer it better to steer it right.

Using the inward power of mystic wisdom

to see through to truth and through delusion

and act wisely and bravely, no matter my plight.

 

I am courageous and afraid.

Prone to foolishness and to evil.

Yet I am also noble and I'm brave;

Because I keep my eyes open and hold fast to the one law that endures;

When I persevere in doing what is right,

All the mighty forces of the Universe come to my aide.

 

Christopher H. Holte, written in 1978. I had already been practicing Buddhism for 5 years.

Don't cry

To Evi

Don't Cry

Don't cry my friend

If you're unhappy with long and painful sighs

Don't lament the end

for ends are always new beginnings.

Don't feel sorry for the past

Do learn, we need to learn fast.

the way to amend bad ends is to make amends.

...and move on.

 

To Jeannette

Little Girl

You have a little girl

such a bright and happy little girl.

Do teach her well and she will grow

to love you so, basking in the warm glow,

of love and loves greatest rewards

 

Try too hard to hold her in her grasp

and she will go

Try to hold her too hard

and you will never know, why you lost her.

 

Chris Holte, 1982

In the early 80's I tried to help a woman and her child who lived in East Germany, Dresden. I believe this poem was written thinking of them.

I Live pointing the way

I live in a world that's lost it's way.

I live at the end of one day

and the beginning of another

I live in a world, where brother lies to brother.

 

I live in a world of lost dreams,

where we wake up hearing our own screams.

A world of corruption

where people live who have forgotten how to sing.

We live in a world where dreams have died

yet still cry out in the night

tormenting their owners in the night

like lost ghosts lost in time.

 

I live in a world so confused

that the victims soon become the abused

where people confuse wrong with the right

and divine answers that are falsehoods

when the truth could be easily known

if they didn't perpetuate foolish behavior and suffering.

 

I live in a world of fear and delusion

where people seek happiness in wealth and illusion

Where greed destroys future and present

and people throw away the good without taking heed

of where their real value lies.

 

And I live and I dance and I sing.

celebrating life in internal freedom

I am one among millions of I's

I am I, unique and powerful in potential

And I know how things can be so I dance and I sing, pointing a way.

 

Christopher H. Holte 1981

When I pass

When I pass on,

I'll say goodbye,

pass the flag, pass the batton

And then simply die.

 

You may laugh,

you may cry,

you may do both

but when that moment comes

I just hope you think fondly of me,

And maybe even laugh

Chris 1990's, first recorded in 2001

Dreams -- August '81

To Hannya

Dreams, make the world grow warmer

when we're feeling cold

dreams keep us going

when our life feels tired and old

Dreams are the stuff of life

Isn't life itself a dream?

Dreams keep us smiling

When it seems we have no reason to

 

Dreams are like a child

with his parents standing by

There are dreams that are expectations

of what the future brings.

Dreams are like a young man

making his way in the world of things.

Recollections are an old man,

recalling his life as if a dream.

 

Dreams animate us, give us reason, let us fly.

Hold onto your dreams, with your feet on the ground.

because dreams give us courage,

lose our dreams and we die.

 

Christopher H. Holte, August 1981

If the Gods forsake me

Inspired by Marcus Aurelius

If the Gods foresake me

my country and my family

Then I pray I see the reason

and at least have some idea why.

 

If storms assail me

And I'm in a winter storm wearing summer clothes

then such must be my destiny

but that doesn't mean I shouldn't seek shelter.

 

If I am lonely

and deeply in love with you

and indeed my Karma is heavy

and you don't love me too.

Then too there must be some reason

and a cause or some lesson, maybe some long ago thing done wrong.

Maybe I can yet resolve if I change inside and grow strong.

 

If the Gods have abandoned me

and my heart is destined again to break

If I must suffer for your sake

Then I must apologize for the cause I made long ago.

 

Christopher H. Holte, 1981

Note: Marcus Aurelius wrote a similar poem long ago in his "Meditations"; "If the Gods have forsaken me" is a common fear and refrain among those who try to do the right thing or are engaged in struggle. Each of us have trials which we must pass through, sometimes blindly, or perish. During such times it seems that God or the Gods, or at least the love and support of God, has abandoned us. But in reality such is never the case, but rather we live in a world of causality where we are each tested by travails. With a powerful faith one summons the courage ("life force") to challenge such challenges. The true object of worship is the reflection of what we can be.

"If the Gods have forsaken me,

I and my family..." -- Marcus Aurelius

The night was vanguished for a moment

The night was vanquished for a moment.

A smile rose in his face and around his eyes.

It was like a clear day after a trail of rainy years.

It was like a spring day after a harsh and late winter.

 

He smiled and the smile creased his shriveled face.

It revealed him a handsome specimen of the human race.

He smiled for a moment in a kind of hope

that was the first time in years.

and then he shook your hand and gave himself away.

 

Do you wonder that the night was vanguished?

It was for him.

For it never again held such power

nor left him so impotent in it's face.

 

Christopher H. Holte, January 1983