Diamonds and Dukkha

A Poem

I wake up with the song bye bye baby in my head, Marilyn she’s gorgeous, of course, she’s on a boat with her massive giant of a gorgeous friend, Jane

they are sailing, it’s the 50’s, she has an utter controlling rich dweeb for a boyfriend later there’s a song about diamonds being a girl’s best friend

the entire movie, over in my mind before I get out of bed to start coffee, to see what’s left in the fridge or pantry to toss together to make lunches —

I realize I think about Marilyn a lot. I realize I make coffee a lot. I realize I do not have and may never have a diamond but I do

have friends, according to the song maybe that’s the same thing, I wake up, I sit down, I think about my diamond friends, drink my coffee that I admit I wish was better,

I wish it was a peppermint mocha, and I realize I am caught up in dukkha the Buddhist word that beautifully sums up suffering

and the creation of unnecessary suffering via not seeing life as is and wanting wanting wanting,| I realize that I think about dukkha a lot.

I realize my little self and my little morning thoughts about movies and glamorous women and fancy drinks and jewelry is this tiny speck of a thing in this universe,

I realize that I think about myself a lot. I realize that I think about the universe a lot. The thing is Marilyn got swallowed up by it, the thing is diamonds swallow

children and workers and nations, the thing is coffee does this too, the thing is the dukkha is bigger than I can fathom I realize we are supposed to only work on eliminating it in ourselves

which then is supposed to radiate out because we will be living in kindness and no longer spreading harm and I believe this because have you ever seen a frowning Buddhist monk have you ever seen the

Dalai Lama not laughing have you ever seen people in meditation and prayer longing for frivolous things — I realize I get caught up in endless spirals of thought a lot.

I realize that somehow this came to me and it is worth a try it is worth a shot. I fell asleep reading Ginsburg and his stuff wasn’t all America and Howl some of it in fact may best be summed up as ‘a real dud,’

I realize I think about Ginsburg a lot. I realize I think about poetry obsessively I realize I am unsure of how to end this poem; I realize

I can just let it go. Bye bye baby.

Jenny Justice is a poet mom who longs to bring poetry to life in ways that spark empathy, connection, joy, and feeling. She loves writing love poems, climate change awareness poems, poems for kids, and of course, poems about poetry and poets. You can follow her on Medium and at Jenny Justice, Writer. You can support her on Patreon. You can follow her poetry at Justice Poetic.