if ninety fine
slightly mounted mint
chipmunks can sub-
sist on tiny yin
fins tied togeth-
er like some jamba-
laya snort cakes
zen can you imag-
ine all of the Vandals that would be sacking those very
same cakes when in Rome?
I need to unsheath myself
from comfort, the layered distance
separating nerve ends from the cold,
to feel the coarse scrape of the world
and not just the intimacy of its downy touch.
I lounge too much in the quiet of myself
away from the hoarse sound
of the wind straining through
the trees, waves tearing water apart
and the screech of angry gulls.
I am too given to the notion
that the gods speak only in the calm
of perfect mornings, find voice
in places cleared of movement.
The heave and spill of the world,
its rupturing crust, fire, flood
and suffering are surely places
where the gods cannot reside.
My mind wrestles with what
seems like an unsolvable koan -
to exist, good gods
must find in such tortured places,
a home.
The top flakes stay crispy,
But the bottom flakes get soggy;
Eat the bottom flakes first!
I had a Thought –
far more compelling
than a What;
and vastly more intriguing
than a That.
A lone petal unfurls
not a bloom,
not a flower,
no use to bees,
as one decrepit.
It's on its knees
trying to please
all alone.
It's an echo of a question,
yet to be asked.
It's a pose, unpoised, unprompted.
It's one eye, nose, or ear,
in defaced mask.
It's a one-handed clap,
an air-kiss from poked puckered lips
It's a hand-shake request
never returned.
a promise never spoken
a swing never swung
a trip never begun
a tear shed in solitude
a wave goodbye, never returned,
It's a mantra or
a musical note recited only once.
All these are clones of
of singularities,
koan and kin.
My emotions
I am honest now
I am telling the truth
Always
Yes
I need life
Lives in the past
My loved past
Black and white
My pure
Monochrome
Life
Where?
Smoked past
Dried heart
Mine
From death
and suffering
of life
Dead soul
passing light
crystal flying
A heart
Mine
Calling
Cross the life
Gone
From this
Life
My emotion is the life
My stream is evil
My life is Satan
Lifesaver
of my life
I am
Satan
Emotions
from past
Just need
Loved heart
Save me
Past
Give
New life
I need
Love
My life is evil
Dark star from far
Longing
Hungry life
Like nature
Words
Cities
Countries
Woods
Fields
I need
emotions
From the Space
From the Home
From the Heart
From the God
I am
Nothing
Empty evenings
Empty evenings, yet full
Spent alone
Evening, I have no other life; night
Darkness brings me hope
Light
sounds of silence
one hand clapping
most hear not
because they are napping
what is that
that does not come and go
we know not but can become
sublime elixir of life’s flow
if thoughts cease altogether
subject and object disappear
identity shorn, as the twice born
what’s that that does then appear
where lies fulcrum of a scent
wherefrom arises in hearts hope
what is the flavour of innocence
how does love with love elope
where within us is the seat of soul
how does wisdom within us seep
what is the source of our aliveness
why does head not into heart leap
why are we afraid to surrender
to relinquish imagined knowing
what prevents us to celebrate life
sans resistance, in trust flowing
Expanding bubbles within bubbles within bubbles
Circumference nowhere, yet centres multiple
Free flowing in the current, although the self is still
Awareness still, yet expanding within unified will
01-November-2020
A Zen Koan
So you don’t understand a zen koan?
To you, it makes no sense?
Then get some sense and apply it!
Everything has a polar opposite
that’s how things are; think
deeply to soar higher; you must
learn to stand, before you can sit.
Soul is soul;
soul does what it does,
a daunting task,
soul within itself,
without.
Kings ask of wise men while
Kids can see simple truth
Kensho shows suddenly
Keeping students up late
Knocking loudly the door
Knowledge comes in silence
Kindness will answer all
The Master said: “How do you stop Time from running?”
Said Monk-Disciple 1: “By running backwards against Time.’
Said Monk-Disciple 2: “By running backwards facing Time.”
Said Monk-Disciple 3: “By running backwards and looking
over the shoulder at Time.”
Said Monk-Disciple 4: “By running backwards alongside
Time.”
Said Monk-Disciple 5: “By running backwards hugging Time.”
Said Monk-Disciple 6: “By running backwards over Time.”
Said Monk-Disciple 7: “By running backwards behind Time.”
Said Monk-Disciple 8: “By running backwards faster than
Time.”
Said Monk-Disciple 9: “By running backwards outside Time.”
Said Monk-Disciple 10: “By running backwards in time with
Time. Or in Time with time.”
And the Master said: “What is Time’s ………...?”
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
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