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VICARIOUSLY
I wonder how my life would bedifferent if just once duringmy childhood I had imaginedthere was a ghost under my bedor a skeleton buried in the garden.I read books with thosescenes and I felt deprived.My friends said that I lackedimagination, and I was ableto imagine them fallingvictim to ghosts that inhabitedtheir homes, were carried offby…
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ONE MORE, MORE
That there is another shootingcomes as no surprise,it is commonplace now, expectedand there are only questions:how many this time, whatkind of weapon was used, whatmotivated the shooter to do it. What does it say when we definemass killing as requiring threeor more dead bodies in one place. The body of the single victimis no less…
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PAUSING
As the rivers dry upand lakes become pondswe are finding things wenever thought we would see.An old warship in Europe,dinosaur footprints, carsand, sadly, the bones of some.We stop momentarily to marvelat these discoveries, thenwithdraw to our homes where wehope we can escape the heat,our air conditioners working overtime,the power plants strained.Yet we never stop to…
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ZHAOZHOU’S “LOSING THE MIND IN CONFUSION”
Be forewarnedthe greatest wisdomis written on wateron a cloud –the sun reads it clearlyso why are youso blind to it? A blind man will notbe mislead by signsa deaf man cannotfall victimto the siren’s song. A reflection on Case 11 of the Shobogenzo Koans (Dogen’s True Dharma Eye)
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YIN YANG
The real questionin the final analysisis not whetherNew Age musiciansinvented acupunctureand massage althoughthere is an inextricablelinkage between them. The real question iswhy two healingAsian modalitieschoose that formof aural torture whilethe patient/victimmust lie still and acceptthe pain inflictedas the pleasureis slowly delivered.
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INVASION
The light has fadedand the wetland lies underits mantle of faint starlight. The birds are there, wecan hear them, but our eyesdo not allow us to see them,despite our desire to havemore time with them. They can see us, in our well lit homes, staring out,but they do not want particularly to see us. To us they…
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HERE LIES
Ambrose Bierce walked into Mexico one day, and was never seen again. That was surprising enough, but more so, he left no epitaph, the least you would expect from a writer. In retrospect, perhaps he was the smarter one, for I know othersl who have spent countless hours trying to devise the perfect epitaph, knowing…
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HOJU TURNS HIS BACK 鐵笛倒吹 七十二
If a beggar approaches do you turn away from him. If a rich man calls to you, do you receive him openly. How do you tell them apart? If a poor thief in fine, stolen silks stands before you what do you offer in welcome, and what for his battered victim now wearing the thief’s…
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an old writer and his words 