-
OBSCURITY
a winter night clouds digest the moon cars drive turning lights out disappearing neon signs stare beckoning vacancy open space super condensed matter she moans I love you to starched sheets shrouds wrap her loins a cat scampers into a bush dragging the sun melting the highway electrons run crashing into nothing quantum leaps First…
-
LUNA SEE
It is her time and she knows she is ready for this moment, has been for eons, knows it will come again but none here will remember this day. She stares at them, but they ignore her, and she grows angry, her visage reddens as she slowly retreats, know the interloper will move along, hoping…
-
UNTO EACH GENERATION
Years later on, having walked calmly away from my former faith, I am left still pondering where you find the words to describe, to teach the unspeakable, and how you use them to reach children who have no right to know the unspeakable, but who must, lest they later speak it. It was a generation…
-
A MISTAKE IN SPEAKING 無門關 三十九
When you speak the words of the Buddha you are lost. Light is everywhere in silence but the tongue must hide in the dark of the mouth. Buddha’s words are flowers unfolding in the dawn by the side of the still pond, the eyes hear the song and respond in silent chorus. A reflection on…
-
HAT
It is hard for even me to remember that there once was a time when every man wore at hat, whether a simple watch cap or Greek fisherman’s hat, a fedora to be avoided if you value your life, a bowler of great propriety. I wear a simple Nepalese hat a reversible pillbox style, and…
-
OPTICAL DELUSION
As you slowly approach it it grows perceptibly larger. This does not surprise you, for you are familiar with the principles of physics. What does surprise you is that the details grow ever less clear as you approach, as though they retreat under your slow advance. You think this strange, wonder what has gone wrong,…
-
MORNING AT THE SHORE
Along the shore, this morning, the clouds piled up, refusing entry to the promised sun, which hung back forlorn. The waves charged onto the sand like so many two year olds in full tantrum, banging against all in sight and retreating, only to charge again, pushing away any and all in their path. The wind…
-
INTO THE TIDE
The woman at the next table stares at her fork with eyes which appear bottomless pools of sorrow. She picks at the noodles, raises and lowers the glass of wine without sipping. She is lost within herself and even the waiter approaches with trepidation for fear of falling in and drowning in her sadness. In…
-
WRITTEN ON WATER
Tomorrow this poem will most assuredly no lnger be here, though when during the night it will slip away, never again to be seen, I don’t know or perhaps it will return in a form I would not recognize, re-crafted by the hand of an unseen editor. It may take on a meaning unfamiliar, or…
-
SEKIKŌ’S SHORTCOMINGS 正法眼蔵 語十
If you have no earlobes there will be nothing at all to hear. If he has no eyes, it is you who grow blind and your silence can drown his ceaseless tongue. The stick speaks louder than you both. A reflection on Case 50 of the Shobogenzo (Dogen’s True Dharma Eye)
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
an old writer and his words 