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MANY THINGS
There are many thingsyou will never hear a poet say: I wanted to write a concrete poembut every time I floated the ideait immediately sank I love occasional poetrybut I never have foundthe occasion to write any It is no wonder so many poetsare starving because allthey write is free verse I thought of writingconfessional…
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DECISIONS
Sitting today trying to decidewhether to use seitan or tempehin tonight’s Singapore-ish noodlesI thought back to the afternoonswaiting patiently in line at the onceand then still gas station, the two bays“converted” to a seafood marketwith large tanks of lobster flown intri-weekly and frozen King crab legsand pointing as the attendant, the onewho used to change…
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ALWAYS
There were always morequestions than answers.There were always morewrongs than rights.There were always morehungry ones than food.There was always moreanger than compassion.There were always moredays of war than days of peace.There were always moreself-righteous than righteous.There were always morepeople than this planetneeded or could support.
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BEIKO’S NO ENLIGHTENMENT
If you comeupon a masterand he asks youwhere it is you are going,what it is you seek,do not tell him youwant to find the pathleading to enlightenment.A wise masterwill tell youthat you cannotseek enlightenment,and only when you stopcan you hope to find it. A reflection on Case 62 of the Book of Equanimity (従容錄, Shōyōroku)
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DREAMING OF FLIGHT
As a child I, like so many others,imagined we might have wingsand could take flight at will, unrestrainedby gravity or parents, a freedomboth denied us: for our own goodthe parents said, silently by gravity.We would look at the sky, the clouds,the birds cavorting without seeming careas we were called in for homework,piano practice, household chores.Now…
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A HAUNTING
The ghosts that haunt my dreamsspeak in many languages, eachfamiliar, twisted deep inside me.I cannot answer for they do not listen,say they do not know me, know me well.I want to sit, to talk with each in turnbut I have no voice they can hearchoked off by cruel Morpheuswho only releases his grip oncethey have…
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HAGAR’S SON
Did you so fear being Hagarthat you deemed me Esau, stolemy birthright, my name, my pastand cast me off into a wilderness?I knew nothing of this, your secrettaken with you to the grave as you wished.Did you consider that I might beIshmael, never knowing my father,adopted into a culture that wouldnever be mine, a child…
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WORD LESS
Words that cannot be saidmust resonate, reverberatelike bumper car thoughts, caromingin the recesses of the mind,pinballing off psychic bumpers, threateningto tear free, erupt like lava repressed,ready for freedom, ready to cedethe anger so long held captiveeating away from the inside, nevercertain of the consequencesof that release from its prison.Words will not be said today,fear maintains…