So I have caused no inheritance
I am suffering
As wisdom requests?
I am without a changed mind.
Having a buddhahood in a time
Is another rising mourning
Of another's regrets
To correct the objective
Zazen is popular excuse
As the sun goes west of my school building
day's tiring trying work starts to windup
ears tremble mildly to hear school bell ring
Joy quickens to brush away lesser thing
My own loving heart herds me back to home
With spring in steps I tenderly pick up
flowers, fruits, bread, milk, vegetables and rice
on way thoughts are refreshingly nice
After the crossing I take the right turn
my footsteps are heard to the only one
rushes to greet me, running recklessly
I just kneel to receive my dog Duffy
He tripples like horse when he has made a mess
welcomed me to house strewn with paper bits,
plants separated from root, mud and pots
I transcend the limits of silent thoughts
I put bag, box down. I clear the chaos,
In time everything is in order, with
selfless, humble love Duffy squats Zazen
Life begins anew, world brightens again
It is conscious love that brings peace and bliss
only Mindful thoughts brings placidity
to care and be cared truly is blessing
Only Love and trust keeps one's world spinning
The moon gazes
through April’s silver maple.
The rushing stream topples old trees;
the peaceful father, mother.
Earth’s half-in, half-out
of the sun’s habitable zone.
Powerful with eternity,
blinding with intensity.
Lazy, happy,
mirror, desert.
Zazen position,
necking in the front seat of Dad’s car.
Lazy, happy,
mirror, desert.
Moderation, persuasion, elections.
Way stations, stopgaps, safe havens.
Cheap jewelry can be sexy;
stop fixing things with duct tape!
Nothing but matter matters,
chipmunk, groundhog, skunk.
Do not provoke
an angry baboon.
Why care about the future,
the dead don’t live to see it.
I’ve come to see
if this is true.
my head is calm
my space is zen
i glide and i meander
manoeuver in a psychic hovercraft
i’m in my private bubble
impervious to noise around me
blissfully cut off from outsiders
their bitter words are hollow
they're out there i'm in here
they're water off my duck’s back
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on January 28, 2020 for contest STRAND CHOICE 9 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - Honorable Mention
Is there any escape
from noise?
A crash, a rattle, a spoon in a cup
No rest for the wicked
Insistent buzzing piled up
Blaring horns
Lighted signs
Engines screaming in ears
So many angered red faces
Social media fears
To sit idle and quiet
Zazen tonic for nerves
An improbable concept
Driven on life’s oil slick’d curves
To slow
To ponder
To throttle it back
Oh, to step off of pavement
Rip out thick knotted phone jacks
But too much is this burden
Our man made bundle of sticks
Tied up with blood ribbons
Taking selfies for kicks
Not to know is too much knowing
Plagued by asking such questions
Turn thoughts off with pop-ups
Start the binge watching session.
1. God is full, full of rain,
and dry, dry as light.
2. The clock-man winds his clock
spending many an hour.
The clock, however, winds itself;
if he knew that, he would not waste time.
3. When God pours milk into God,
does God ever drip from the corners
of His mouth?
4. He knew that he would travel farther
so he became the road
and arrived without leaving.
5. She had a vision that her eyes fell out
and when they did,
she put them in a locked box
so she would not lose her sight.
6. Half and half is one
minus that is none
more than that is sum
less is chewing gum.
7. When I sing on a swing
I oftentime sing
of a thing on a swing
that can more or less sing
of a thing on a swing
that can sing of a thing on a swing.
(inspired by a correspondence with J.D. Salinger)
changing dawn to dusk
second hand eternal turning
nights of spirit, senseless knight
indescribable yet earthly yearning
night side world melts into glass
black sun rising at our core
stars as chandeliers in gloom
glinting dull on backlit shores
coarsened souls will rise
naive sunshine hides its rays
God's gift of sorrow to the world
hearts are built to break away
shivering in stillness
secrets hide in opaque jars
isolation masquerade
all alone in crowded bars
zazen tonic with a twist
one-act darkness for tonight
fruitful empty willing hand
struggles only lose the fight
as fairy glamour pierces night
humid air grows stale
breaking dawn and blue sky water
rescue from poor Jonah's whale.
I have followed him to his hermitage.
Stalked by loneliness he has revealed
a better way and shared with me Zazen
through writings and the sound of the
Hototogisu.
I have carried him on the tube
and into my working week
where he has shown me
winter passing
and the passage of spring
I have sat in the garden
In the quiet stillness
and learnt the
impermanence
of all things.
Anger- what is it?
what color is it?
And, what can we liken it to?
Is it the thing that we feel before counting to TEN?
Or is it why many Buddhists reflect in Zazen?
Could it be White, like The Pillar Of Salt that became of Lot's Wife?
Was it Black like the GLOVE Of Geronimo Pratt
Or Silver like the Bullets which laid Amadou flat?
The Blue Of Uniforms of those who Protect and who Serve?
Maybe the pigment of a person who killed a sick perv
Shaded Brown like the Projects, with no Hope/locked inside?
Welfare Yellow like Cheese when you're stripped of your pride
Surely it's the Green Of Saudi Arabia's Flag
New York Gray like the Beggar who's treated like slag?
Actually, it isn't manifested in colors
Nor can it be defined
Go now
Entertain what I've said
Remembering the Paradox is that we claim to see RED
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