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THE FOG
I speak to my father every week or so our conversations are as long as ever but we are rapidly becoming little more than a skipping record. He mostly recalls my name and the various parts one with the other of us has had rebuilt but even that is quickly slipping into the fog that…
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FORGOTTEN PROCLAMATION
He was quite tall for then, even tall for now, and that hat must have added almost a foot, a mortician likely as not, if not a lawyer. He wrote eloquently, even if his voice was not quite of his stature, his words always had impact, digging in the gray and blue bled soil of…
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BODHIDHARMA’S “VAST AND VOID”
You want holy teachings boiled down, synthesized digestible in bites so dine on the holes nothing, emptiness is sustenance enough look at me, at a window as you do a mirror no knowing, a familiar face but whose? the face will depart yours or his you will awaken to endless absence learn no thingness overflowing…
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STARING
A crane stands placidly staring through the window as we earnestly attempt to imitate him, hoping he will honor the effort if not the result. The master is graceful and we are far less so, and out of the corner of my eye I see on the crane what could be a smile, or as…
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THE BURDEN
We are obligated to carry memories, and as we get older the burden grows ever heavier, we bend under its weight, knowing we dare not lose even one for once castoff, the weight is carried off like the smallest feather on a storming wind. Soon enough it is we who will become the burden that…
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VISION
He is bent over, walks with a shuffling stumble. He follows the path, inscribing it center or as close to it as he can get. He wants to say hello to those who would acknowledge him. He doesn’t understand why his mouth refuses to smile, refuses to form even the simplest of words. All he…
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THE CANNERY, LATE INTO THE NIGHT
The cannery, long before it was a mall, sat on the verge of the bay bellowing steam into the night sky shrouding the stars in a gauze blanket, listening to the braying of the harbor seals pleading for the morning’s dross to be returned to the bay waters. The otters lie on their backs peering…
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THE SON
He hangs on the guest room wall, simply framed in black, adjoining his more ornate, Cheshire- cat smiling sister. He isn’t brooding really, there is just a certain needful sadness, as he stares out, imagining how he pictured things would be, how they were supposed to be, realizing here, they never were, never will be,…
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PHARMAPHOBIA
You begin to believe that the simpler the name of the drug, the less it will cost, it’s a generic thought and one that rarely applies but on the drive to the out-of-network pharmacy 11 PM on a holiday eve It makes the pain ahead that much less, if only until the pharmacy tech hands…
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DESHAN’S THIRTY BLOWS正法眼蔵 三十一
If I come before the teacher he will give me thirty blows. If I do not come before the teacher he will give me thirty blows. It is the same for everyone, his arms never grow tired but if I never see my teacher, I give him thirty blows and my arms are suddenly heavy.…
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an old writer and his words 