Paul Dolinsky

Paul Dolinsky is a poet, philosopher, teacher, and more recently, a website designer, publisher, and seller of other people’s stuff on Ebay. He holds a doctorate in philosophy from the University at Buffalo, and taught Eastern and Western philosophy for nine years, in various colleges, including the New School in NYC. Living in that city, he became concerned with the plight of homeless persons, substance abusers, and persons with Aids, and worked as a counselor for several years. In the course of this work he met Elise, another helper, who is a talented astrologer, and metaphysician, and they married. Paul has also studied psychotherapy, and the healing arts of macrobiotics, shiatsu and reflexology. To these, he adds Buddhism, as a life-form of thinking and being, which heals people by helping them to perfect their attitudes towards themselves and the world. For the last 12 years, Paul and Elise have lived in a quiet rural area, in Eastern NYS with their four formerly stray cats. Paul’s psychic sensitivities have developed over recent years, and he does psychic readings. He also teaches philosophy online at www.universalclass.com . His Ebay store is: http://stores.ebay.com/design-your-life-and-home .Paul's e-mail address is www.technopoems.com  His website, www.buddhistpoems.com  includes links to free online copies of his poems, and to printed books. His other websites includes www.historyofphilosophy.org  , www.searingsunpress.com and www.technopoems.com .


THE PURE LAND

Is this for me,

To be reborn in the Pure Land,

  for all eternity?

My seed thoughts of desire

  are unexplored and unexported.

 My baggage is intact,

  and remains unwrapped,

For it has no place to go .

  The world has exploded,

And my desires have imploded.

Samsaric realms,

  without their coverings,

Are bare,

Stripped of the colors they bear.

Only the candy stripe

  of form and formlessness remains

To explain it all,

Like seasonal moves,

  from fall to winter,

And how winter always finds its spring.

Samsaric delights abound.

Can we push past this palette

To see eternity as the sum

  of what comes ,

Then ceases to be,

  and then some,

And as a watchful sun

  who sees it all

Who is all things in our minds,

  and then some,

Who is like the sound in our ears

  that resounds past them.

We sign to the source,

  we sigh,

We offer rhymes,

We break our silence,

  and then we die.

 

from Growing Up Is A Cosmic Thing - 1999 Poems

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