This is the poetry of pictures from my wife's beautiful flowers at the front porch last summer.
Tai Shi
sat lah
Gassho https://uploads.tapatalk-cdn.com/201...b761e2bb16.jpg
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This is the poetry of pictures from my wife's beautiful flowers at the front porch last summer.
Tai Shi
sat lah
Gassho https://uploads.tapatalk-cdn.com/201...b761e2bb16.jpg
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Treeleaf Rohatsu, 2019
My wife's flowers from the front
Porch last summer linger
Like pink and green imprints
In my tired mind, reminding
Me of everything I promised.
A life together in a grass hut.
Moments of joy or did I say
Hope. Was it enough? Did
I warn her about the weeds?
She was no fool and married
Me anyway. We managed. We
Came together. She, the timeless
Constant being holding it all,
fashioning my fumblings
Into this life. This life. This hut,
Like that jar in Tennessee, contains
A thousand doors. A thousand
Tiny buddhas spring from her
Tears, showering me
With pink and green petals.
Gassho,
Kate
Sat today/lah
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Beautiful! gassho1
Gassho
Byōkan
sat + lah
Thank you. I think I inadvertently received poetry transmission from Tai Shi.
Gassho,
Kate
Sat.lah
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Beauty in A Little Poetry.
Taishi
sat
Beautiful Gassho
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I intend to Collect all the poems in all the threads where I have written, that is the poems I have written and I will then publish them in my book PORTRAITS OF THEIR LIVES, along with such poems as I see fit in my own Word and Open Office files. The book will be dedicated to all my significant teachers from Bill Hotchkiss to Jundo Cohen (I would ask his permission to use his Dharma name or any name Jundo Cohen decides upon, as I too will use my Dharma name). So be it. I will also indicate my pen name Charles E Taylor. All money associated with by me, and with money I begin saving next month will be used to finance this project. The project may last up to three years as did my first book Winter from Spring; this, and the second book, Meditations on Gratitude will not be included. My book will be published by The Book Patch where I already have an account. I will edit and pick and chose as I see fit and any Dharma friend in this Zendo may comment once the poems have been collected, and full credit will be given to this Treeleaf Zendo, and therefor, the three homes I have now; My Dear Marjorie and Me, AA as called only 12 step program, and Treeleaf Zendo by name as Jundo sees fit will be mentioned. I open this proposal to Forum Comment. While I wait for Treeleaf comment, I ask that you appraise this Prospectus and any or all of my poems on the Treeleaf Forum. I WILL IN NO WAY COLLECT OR USE OTHERS' POEMS OR ANY WRITING IN ANY WAY ON THIS FORUM or anywhere, living, out of this our sphere, or in some way connected with Treeleaf. I hold sole copyright to my own poetry and such writing to be acceptable by Jundo Cohen so as not to break anonymity of anyone or indicate people except my own family, but no places breaking anyone's anonymity unless they give permission. The place I I call home are mine with my family mentioned. Marjorie, my father and my daughter already have dedications. Tai Shi (Charles E Taylor).
Hi Tai Shi
I have shared at least one, maybe two poems on the Haiku page.
I would prefer that they not be published in your book anonymously or otherwise.
Thank you comrade.
Gassho
Anna
stlah
Oh, that is lovely to make a new collection, Tai Shi!
Enjoy the process of bringing your work together!
Gassho
Kokuu
-sattoday-
Kate, I overlooked your beautiful poem, which, of course, I will not include in Portraits of Their Lives by Charles E Taylor, Tai Shi, Calm Poetry. Your poetry is stunning, sensitive, and heartfelt. Perhaps, or perhaps not? It would be nice for you to share more, and you, as with all poets/authors of fiction, poetry, prose, drama, and or essay and all personal writing belong only to the author, and as per International Copyright Law, the author simply by stating their name owns their work, and has sole responsibility for that work. In at least one place in these threads on Treeleaf Zendo, I request that written work follow guidelines of good taste, without defaming, or condemning another person, etc. That includes good taste in language. Kate. I too have read Wallace Stevens.
Tai Shi
Charles E Taylor
Calm Poetry
sat/lah
Gassho
Any member may add suggestions in this thread about legalities, exceptions, language, stipulations of law, substitutions, ownership of original writing, matters of good taste, concerns about Buddhism, or any religion, credit and/ or all creative guidelines in this thread. This is governed by our teacher Jundo Cohen, Roshi, and any priest, priest-in-training, member, or Lay member may comment here. You may add creative work of your own, perhaps in one of the other threads unless you wish to post here. unless the threads allow one to share one or just some excerpts/ and or poetry giving full credit to author/poet/ writer. It is suggested that these creative threads are primarily for members' writing, and all creative essay/ poetry/ fiction/ drama by the author is encouraged. Those who have started other threads may wish to create their own guidelines or consult with Jundo. Anyone, anywhere on this Treeleaf Zendo may comment here, and add creative work to this and or all creative threads unless so stipulated by the guidelines of that thread. Write away!!! Have fun, enjoy.
Tai Shi
sat/lah
Gassho
Ah, Tai Shi
I am so happy to know that you will be collecting your work for another book. Such an important endeavor that I await eagerly. Perhaps it will not take three years, but no matter. I'm inspired by your project.
A little secret ( that will be out now forever.) I went to graduate school to become a fiction writer. I wrote some poetry then, too. But I was so shy about my work that I never published a single piece. It was not until I read your work on this forum that I suddenly felt inspired again, began writing again and sharing it with others, my friends here at Treeleaf. Your dedication to Jundo Cohen, therefore, is deeply moving since I myself understand the impact this wonderful Zendo can have on creativity.
I look forward to hearing more about your project. And thank you for catching my allusion to Wallace Stevens. I'm sure he was a Buddhist without knowing it.
Gassho,
Kate / Hensho
Sat today
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Dear, dear Kate, it is not often that one encounters outside books the kindred spirit of another writer. I sense this in you, by your poem, by your compliment to me, by our shared knowledge of a great poet, a man who kept his work hidden from his colleagues for fear they would not understand. Dear Kate, an audience of two who understand, that is enough, for please remember Miss Emily, "I am a poet, are you a poet, too. Don't tell...they'd advertise you know..." Be not concerned, for no one here will "croak your name, the live long day, to an admiring bog." Your words like me are petals in the rose we pick in memory of our sister poet dear Sylvia. Kate, we have risen above such agony with words, with gentle keystrokes of our lives. Do share...
Tai Shi
sat
Gassho
Ah, Tai Shi
Today I sit with you and Wallace and Emily and Sylvia and Elizabeth and Walt and TS and Robert and Rita and Nikki and all the others. Today I sit in the center of the poem that we write together for everyone. For gratitude. For friendship. And the hope that stillness brings.
Gassho,
Kate / Hensho
Sat
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For Patty Brown
Long, impossible
Spring days smart,
Days when other
Children pushed Patty
Brown, with words
Because her red
Hair, freckled skin,
Like me anomaly
Fifth grade Mckee
Elementary, parents
Divorced mother
Lovingly gave girl lovingly
New Brownie Camera
My hands into fists,
Words to hurt.
Poets never alone,
Pushed her
Rested in hands
Like my mom's
Old Brownie camera
Hers new, mom's
Broken when I
Pushed her
Against hate
Memory boy
So fragile, Children
Mob jered
Were Different.
They could see
Emptiness form,
Form emptiness,
Both so alone.
Tai Shi
sat/ lah
Gassho
Do you think you can write poetry without including parts of yourself?Quote:
after reviewing Gary Snyder's famous book The Back Country, I have concluded this four part collection, ground breaking book about Zen Revelation, is not about sitting. truly, it is not about Zen at all. This book is about Gary Snyder.
I have not read The Back Country and am curious to take a look now as I love much of Gary Snyder's work.
Gasho
Kokuu
-sattoday/lah-
Thank you for your elaboration, Tai Shi!
I think it could be said of Jack Kerouac also that his book The Dharma Bums was filled with just as much (if not more) being a bum than it does the dharma!
The Back Country was published in 1967 and Snyder had been in Japan on and off since 1955, when he formally requested to become the student of Rinzai teacher Miura Isshu at Shokoku-ji in Kyoto and sat several sesshin. So his understanding of the precepts should have been pretty well established by then as he took Jukai and was given the dharma name Chofu, "Listen to the Wind". But The Back Country contains poems stretching back many years so I guess not all will be Zen influenced.
Gassho
Kokuu
-sattoday/lah-
Respectfully may I ask why this thread, as entertaining as it is is in this section of the forums?
Gassho
Onka
st
Onka, Jundo, I respectfully agree; this thread IS about Poetry, and posting of Poetry!! About people who might not have a voice anywhere else even on this forum. I am going to delete my posts, which I thought might be interesting, and offer an apology to the people I care about most-- Folks who might not post anywhere else, and I ask Kokuu, who is like me in so many ways, who I care about deeply, to do the same. It's also about sitting, and talking about sitting which is what we are about in this our Sagha where we would not have a place anywhere else, where Jundo has made a home for us, where (most people) folks are welcome who say they can learn a different way, in poetry, or anything to become a part of something bigger than than themselves, a place where they can sit, and learn compassion even in and especially in all walks of life.
Tai Shi
sat
Gassho
Thank you dear Kate, dear And Anna, dear Onka, and my friend Kokuu, and everyone who loves Buddhist poetry of all types, for everyone in our Sangha who makes poetry of sensitivity, of beauty, and of Shikantaza. Kokuu, do look elsewhere for a beautiful revision about you my friend, a truly heartfelt poem about our beauty as friends. Way, Way too much from me, If you can, think of some of these posts combined from me together, and my love of our Treeleaf Zendo.
Tai Shi
sat
Gassho
Hi Kokuu and all; I find it most beautiful that Gary Snyder was given the name "Listen to the Wind" most beautiful for Gary Snyder's Dharma, and so beautiful that he was able to ""Listen to the Wind"" MOST beautiful as he spoke at a reading in Colorado while I was actually working on my thesis Autumn Inventories. I met him briefly as he walked out of the auditorium at U.N.C. and he knew my mentor, Dr Bill Hotchkiss, from Sierra College in Rocklin, California, the college where my father worked for 24 yeas as tenured faculty, and where I began my study of English Literature. Our meeting was about 30 seconds, and there is no reason he might remember me. May I suggest another Gary Snyder volume you might not own, and which I purchased in Denver about the time I graduated with my MFA, 1990, Left Out in the Rain, those poems as yet at that time randomly brought together and very good of course. I am certain that you, if you do not have this book, would enjoy it. I did go on after Sierra to finish my BA at Grinnell College, MA and EDS degrees at the University of Iowa, then taught composition, literature and creative writing at Central Community College; there I published my first poetry, and in 1985 left with Marjorie who continued her career with the government. I entered the MFA in 1986, and lost my TA in 1987 at which time I hit bottom and got sober with the 12 steps. The year between 1987 and 1988 I took a lighter load of one, then two classes at C.S.U. in my MFA program. I returned to part-time teaching at Front Range Community College, and full-time study in 1989, took my comprehensives, and in 1990 completed and defended my thesis. In 1991, I began full-time teaching in Illinois not far from Chicago. By that time my spirituality truly began and I read Zen Mind, Beginner Mind, and Peace is Every Step, but I was not sitting or meditating. In 1993/1994 Marjorie and I returned to teaching but we found living 90 miles from Chicago did not shield us from the daily murder or drug bust, and we were concerned that bringing up a 3-yr-old girl was not wise there, and besides in 1993 I failed to "get tenure, and we moved to South Dakota where we remained, and built our little home in Hartford, nine miles west of Sioux Falls. My wife has worked for the government more than 30 years and retired four years ago, and visited our daughter who lived four years in Japan, Chiba, and Date, Hokkaido. I taught part-time until 2001 at which time, because of my disabilities, I could no longer teach. I was never again "let go" from a teaching position. from 2006 to 2007 I taught developmental English part-time, temporary. My wife and I decided especially when I was 58 that I could no longer work even part time, and I retired permanently. I had worked part-time in clerk positions and been on disability since 2001, and it was just time to admit utter defeat. I had published more than 60 poems in little magazines and college journals, and in August 2009 I self-published my book Winter from Spring, in 2011, I nearly died three times, began to truly seek "something" in earnest, and about five years ago joined Treeleaf where one year latter Jundo allowed me to go through Jukau and I was given the Dharma name Tai Shi, calm poetry. About one year before coming to Treeleaf, I self-published another book, Meditations on Gratitude, and at one time both books were available through Barnes and Noble, and Amazon. I believe Meditations on Gratitude is still available. My time at Treeleaf, my friendships here, and my admiration of Doyu have all inspired me to self-publish again, one more book by 2023, and I've collected much of my work in one file already. Now I must edit, add and detract poems, and design a cover. My deadline seems "do able" because I must also save the money for publication.
Tai Shi
sat
Gassho
Thank you Tai Shi! I have The Gary Snyder Reader which contains poems from a number of his works so will check out the ones from there and definitely think about getting the full volume.Quote:
May I suggest another Gary Snyder volume you might not own, and which I purchased in Denver about the time I graduated with my MFA, 1990, Left Out in the Rain, those poems as yet at that time randomly brought together and very good of course
I hope you can make your deadline for the next volume of your writing.
Gassho
Kokuu
-sattoday-
Age of Compassion
My sixteenth year
Wrote dear first poems
Still collected in
Black volume written
In 1968 incomplete
Blue fountain
Pen to childish
Love blue, invisible
Her father as heart
Pounded in violation
Precept entreating
Safe love, without
Guarded between
Fingers touching
I attended colleges
Not sought in money
Intoxicants gone
Even for our own
Life, relived anger
Last promise
Love, gave no
Love for five years
Strong drink, then
January 7, 1980
Young woman
Teacher of right
Speech, right behavior
Talking on paper
Walked in groups
Together Rhetoric
One Oh One teaching
With Precepts Love
Eternal compassion
Pearl whose shining
Eyes no one had seen
Right behavior, drink
Intoxicant teaching
Lifted glory to my glory
Eyes, I fell, lifted
Finally readings, Zen
Buddhism, rejoiced
2018/2019/2020
Final Precept place,
Young woman
I with her become old
Original writing in black
Volume, Love compassion
Child conceived in marriage,
Shokai corrects me, dignity
I bowed Taishi, Oh Sangha
Our Temple all our world beckons.
Taishi
sat/lah
Gassho
I have purchased two volumes of poetry to Learn of Wind, my right speech, oh dear friend Kokuu, before your ordination, together after in Ango, still friends as we exchange our bodies as in Plato, not as lovers and our children fruit of Buddha vine, we cannot violate friendship with moving now stilled tongue, I've purchased two volumes of Gary Snyder, like Andy, stone face, Kokuu, we know loyalty because of you I've come to know The Wind.
Sleeping in our house
Which paid diamond like taxes
Our compassion downed.
For Kokuu
my friend
Taishi
Gassho
sat/lah
Thank you, Tai Shi!
You write so well!
Which volumes of Gary Snyder have you bought?
speaking prayers
into the night sky
pilgrim moon
Deep bows, my friend
Kokuu
-sattoday/lah-
I somehow missed this thread - such beautiful work. Tai Shi - I'm glad to hear you will be publishing more of your work,
Gassho,
Heiso
StLah
Seen bows to you all! Earthly universal thought is sought by all, and only a few friends outside Treeleaf Zendo know only a tiny part of my life so invested in these threads in my daily sitting Shikantaza lately as I have dealt with pain, and first medication that actually gave dome relief Remicade, then Cimzia, then Cosyntix, next now perhaps one that will last the duration, one only recently approved for my bone disease of Ankylosing Spondylitis Simponi, more than $4000 per shot, per four weeks. Now it remains to see if my insurance company will approve home use for medication injection sub q every four weeks, so more than $50,000 a year, and if not approved an infusion every six weeks at Sanford Health in Sioux Falls. Now for my dearest poetry-- Kokuu, the two books of essays by Gary Snyder, Chofu, Listen to the Wind, The Practice of the Wild, with new preface by the author, then A Place in Space: Ethics, Aesthetics, and Watersheds. For me My Book changed from Portraits of Their Lives, a book I may complete as my fourth and final book for I am 68, and this book For Patty Brown... entirely and only my writing, no one in or out of this Sangha, Treeleaf Zendo will be included, and as I now edit the rough draft over and over, and over... the writing, and cover are mine. To answer your question Kokuu, the complaint of much contemporary and modern poetry by critics, and the public is that it is largely inaccessible, and the public cannot understand. In Snyder's, Chofu's, work there exists a mix, and I refer you to "The Bath" as for some public readers too personal, though accessible, so how should the poet proceed? The poem is such that Jundo would not allow it to be published here and from The Back Country, admittedly early work by the poet, "Rip Rap," of which any subculture member would recognize as substance abuse. So where does a poet draw the line? Does the poet write for the public or for the self? Does the poet include such incidence as suicide, mental illness, and death as are in my first book, in several libraries, and which made valiant showing of sales, or my second book which included mental illness, much physical pain, and suicide, both books in the Grinnell College Library, one of the finest colleges in the US, or the second book receiving high praise from Professor Emeritus Bill Tremblay, the founder of the MFA creative writing program at Colorado State University. Who is right? Those who would censure all personal writing, so where would we be without Eliot, Pound, Lowell, Plath, Ted Hughes, Richard Wright, the whole cannon of modernists, HD, Marian More, contemporizing like Rita Dove, Gallway Kinnell? And, Chofu, Gary Snyder. I venture to say the criticism of modern and contemporary writers is accurate, and much of what these writers give us is for the educated, the studied, and those willing to look, and look again. And call me an elitist, but the average American has never heard of Basho, or the 5, 7, 5 schemes of the Anglicized Haiku. No, most poetry is not of the light-hearted, Would you have British leave out Keats who writes poetry, "As natural as the leaves on the trees."? Or seeking "The Good, THE TRUE, and the Beautiful?" So where does any writing become non-personal, even especially Shakespeare, and Andrew Marvel, and I venture to say even Milton, Pope, and Dryden?
Tai Shi
calm poetry
sat/ lah
Gassho
Thank goodness my biological medication fairly new on the market Simponi has been approved for home use at more money than I am given in one year by my wife. This biological related to Enbrel which I took successfully for more than 10 years and this may allow me lol to continue to write about my pain and arthritis ha ha. Lol I pick up my first dose at the hospital in the morning. Now to speak about more pressing matters Coronavirus which we as poets might consider writing about. Truly I believe in many ways poetry shows the state of humankind all human nature may be explored by the poet all good men and women. Consider Pablo Neruda and great poets writing all manner of topics and we as Buddhist poets must consider Compassion and Equanimity As each and all benefit from endeavor to control the spread of disease. Consider Denise Levertov great poets are not restricted in writing. I’ve decided to take a short break from writing to support friends an family as they deal with more pressing things.
Tai Shi
sat/ lah
Gassho
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
The pharmacy is mailing my Simponi pen should be here in the morning then the less I leave the house for an AA meeting only.
Keep distance
Six feet or more
Avoiding corona virus
Never avoiding
Those we love
This year washing
Washing I apply
Lotion, clean smell
Softens safety
Make sure to wash
Hands 20 seconds
Always, 20 seconds
Each time, then
Touch only ones
We live close
Every time we
Bump
Elbows, shower
Stay home
So much
Stay home watch
Movies at home
Popcorn and drinks
Not alcohol that
Used instead of wash
Wash your hands
Feel safe,
Tai Shi
sat/ lah
Gassho
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Tai Shi
That is lovely but you probably mean 20 seconds rather than 20 minutes or that is a long time at the sink!!!
Gassho
Kokuu
-sattoday-
Correction wash
Hands 20 seconds
Lovely smell, racy
Times, wash 20
Seconds, keep
Hands away from face,
Yes, yes, use
Tissue or wash
Hanky’s cloth
Nose wipes
Wash often, be
Good to yourself
If you can shower
Or wash up,
Stay clear
And clean
Stay in with family
When you can
We all reduce hospital
Needs and we practice
Good Buddhist cleanliness
Tai
Shi
Calm
Poetry
sat/ lah
Gassho
Deep Bows
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My book, For Patty Brown..., will be completed, I must admit, a bit delayed-- because of illness.
Tai Shi
Gassho
sat/lah
If I Were Not Dying
I sit often, just
Sit, no recognition,
My weeds gone from ancient
Garden, flowers of delight
Morning blossoms, Forget
Me Not; sacrificed desire,
With Sunday morning
Auden's sorrow practiced
Friday Human rights
Making Easter gone
Sequestered bodies, rooms
Where we hide from death,
Great harvest, scythe
Striking each stem
Spiral on flowers coughing
Weeds, of Speech to blood,
Lungs in prayer, to chant
Messages lifting death
Into open air, mouth devours
Cross with red blossoms up,
Finding air to restore
Sacrifices of old, or young
Recovery from smoke,
Gardens crowded with wild
Wheat burned-- bodies
Into crematoriums
Smoke wafting into air,
Into our eyes once
Beholding colors show
Human hair, hands, feet
Nailed black skin, their
Eyes with remorseful tears
Blue or hazel, black orbs
White vision gone as blue
Lilies morn above coffins
Our chants rise up
With incense to dispose
Of Life, eternal these fumes,
Becoming life everlasting
Fewer people burned, rise again
With beating heart above virus
Corona pitted flowers bring
Life; sprout again
With oxygen our atmosphere
Petrol gone. We must regain
Vernal Equinox To taste and see,
Worship love, present each
Other as Mum
Of Spirit-- another light
Ancestral vision, seeing
Through eyes-- prisons, colors
Of flame into life, rainbows
With any race welcomed
No hate, all changed
From poison to value
Our Vegetation, Earth's plea
Animal life finding our answers;
Soil, rock-- Friends recovering
With Compassion, Christ's
Love in space,
The Agape of our Bodhisattva
We offer to our flowers
A garden to Plant again
No heaven or hell,
Only open sky our mystery,
Mountains where columbine divide.
Tai Shi _/|\_
sat/ lah
Gassho
That is beautiful, Tai Shi! gassho2
I loved it, Tai Shi. Thank you for your poetry.
Gassho,
Mateus
Sat/LAH
Brief Recovery Essay
Yes, I am an alcoholic. Tai Shi is my grateful Dharma name, given twice in Dharma call, For Sangha I believe daily I live each second at the moment. I have put together more than 32 years, 7 months with Precept against intoxicants. Recovery depends upon reaching out. I have been told I am old. Truth be told, you and I have years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, so I am told, "Live at the moment." Where did I receive such gift, shall I recite my affirmation, "Having had a spiritual experience as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and practice these principles in all of our affairs." These are words I only try to live and I live to the best of my ability, for love and tolerance is our code, with my rakusu, I chant Verse of Atonement which I shall call the 5th step, Four Vows which I shall call step 11 learning in Metta, steps 6, and 7 reflecting on my humility referring back to step 2, never giving up all shortcomings which I may never claim else experience slips away. Then Step One the bedrock recognizing my humanity, We were (are) who we are; our lives have become unmanageable, so we reach out. Shortcomings felt again in 8, and 9, then admitting 10 the only recognition of addiction, and my humanity, all is worked reaching out for the Wisdom, the Buddha, three, Christ-like, 3, the Sangha, and 10 attainment by giving up, asking forgiveness. All becomes Dharma teachings, scripture, Our Spiritual Awakening. Then we turn, "I take Refuge in the Buddha, I take Refuge in the Dharma, I take Refuge in the Sangha." Then learning of compassion, no anger, no fear, no greed, We come to that choice of Agape, walking in foot steps of each Master. Step 12, giving all away; we are like attainment, sitting Shikantaza for others. Those who find another way, we are nothing but sand, and we are Free. We review this list placing all from one to twelve to give it all away into nothingness.
Tai Shi
sat/ lah
Gassho
"
My book shall take another turn.
This Saturday evening we shall sit.
_/|\_
May the crowned knot of fire..."
Oh dear Kate, I've reread the entries in this our thread, all of us Kokuu, all our Sangha where I take refuge in a thousand jars upon Pine Mountain where I became as young man at age seven my father ran away. Mother gone more than two decades I have regained my father as he returned. This pandemic my mother did not live in Des Moines, Iowa, her return among corn and beans. My father calls our little home on Northern Plains, upon prairie; we venture into city, 10, 15, 20 miles (ca. 32 km) away. Dear Kokuu, dear Kate, when Tai Shi and Marjorie, pearl of South Dakota, found in ancient sea beds, will you remember us if pandemics strike us down, suffocate us, damage our bodies? Smashed upon millennial shore of Bodhisattva?
Tai Shi
sat
Gassho
For TaiShi, as we endure together
How shall I not remember you, dear
one, as you have called me, summoned
me, bade me to speak, given me
life from your words, your shikantaza
breath?
How shall I not know you as the warbler
who visits the woods behind my house
every fall, every spring, parsing a twig
from a thicket, living the very suchness
of life?
How shall I not hear you as the call
from my neighbor through my studio
wall, with no one, not a single relative
living but still enduring this life, with joy
resolute?
How shall I not remember you indeed, TaiShi.
For you are every rain, a silken thread, both
being and non being, an imprint indelible,
all buddhas throughout space and time,
this very hour.
Gassho,
Kate (Hensho)
sat/lah
Kate, you give me freedom like a sea full of clouds, for me its not the surface, but the whole ocean like Dogen spoke of in Genjokoan and the depth of sea is more than sea, its the whole ocean this trout, an ocean trout knows how to swim into expanse, and divine calm, greater than god or is it simply God, it is what Christ was pointing to a wonder that those men and women at that Packing Plant crammed into working space killing hogs, piglets for hot dogs disguised me as killer, but forced to give their lives for meat, by the air of Covid 19. What's to become of this human race, so emerging from ocean of death which is not so bad except many had grandchildren, children, wives, husbands, families who ate that meat, depth of swine brought to our own promises as we all enter into water baptism Dogen knew of air into which geese flew infinitely into death as they ate fishes. We end no end Shikantaza, no time, less Earth, Less Space and Time, before I was there, now am there with Serenity Prayer. "God, grant me the serenity to except the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, wisdom to know the difference..." then, "Living one day at a time; enjoying one moment at a time Accepting hardship as the pathway to peace. Taking as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it. Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His will; That I may be reasonably happy in this life, and supremely happy with Him forever in the next." This is the "SERENITY PRAYER" in its entirety. This is what I live for as Dogen knew, and that poet who I have studied all my life. It's not "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," name of furniture company in St. Louis. its more "Ash Wednesday." Turned out of a guyed grove as Yeats reached for without Christ, nor Sailing to Byzantium, A beauty to keep an old man from falling asleep in his leather easy chair, more furniture gift for his wife to give to him, so blessing cattle, finally blessing cattle knowing he will join those people after Covid 19 forever. All this fevered coughing blood soaked tubes to respirator gone into eternity because we are powerless over things we cannot change viruses, flu, Covid, even common cold, all from tiniest organisms known to science, born replicated in human lungs. Shall we leave that yellow mucus, sputum of creation as it propels into ocean life forever into eternity...
Tai Shi
sat/lah
Gassho
"We are powerless over alcohol, and our lives have become unmanageable." first in perfect surrender, "Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics and to practice these principles in all our affairs." These twelve steps never working the eleven in perfection especially this 12th which is Buddha Nature for me, and 5th and 9th when I practice verse of atonement and this readiness in 2nd, 8th, 10th these making sure I make these poems each my inventory only to correct myself to Buddha nature, as I sit patiently looking neither left or right as I see my crooked spine leaning right then left, as I rise from seated cushion, shall I ever make Christ's perfection risen to take on death as Buddha lived life to be teacher of that surrender. So from 11th especially 3rd surrender into God's will giving all to others, in daily step work preparation for daily 12th giving that away, daily earning bread of salvation until body become nothing thy day to air, form is nothing, nothing is form in Shikantaza where I feel no pain, shall I "Enfold myself into the tongued knot of fire,"{Giving over my cremation into smoke, ash, and air, matter is energy. Mass is energy, found in dust attic of the mind, I shall die} as I sat in Shikantaza, I will take refuge in the Buddha, into Jesus Christ, into serenity...
Tai Shi
sat/lah
Gassho
This thread is dedicated to the writers I live with, from TS Eliot to Kokuu, from Kate to Emily Dickinson to Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, To EVERY poet in our Sangha, to all my friends who ever raised a pen or keyboard to write a few lines, or more, To Dyo an accomplished poet, to those who join the fellowship of writers though they may never show their work to a soul, part of a family of human beings who make the art of writing something beautiful, their preoccupation, their passion, or a passing fancy, or the work of a dedicated poet. You all are part of this sorority/fraternity. "Come on Without, Come on within, You've not seen nothing like the mighty Quin...when Quin the Eskimo gets here, everybody is going to jump for joy." Bob Dylan, so please, please, jot a few of your own lines here, let your writing flow, be delighted because there is a pandemic, let us NOT give up joy, please write something sad, or happy and write in the face of danger-- oh do not be afraid. Write!
Tai Shi
sat/lah
Gassho
Hello all
The UK poet laureate, Simon Armitage, writes of lockdown, weaving together older stories with the present moment...
Lockdown
And I couldn’t escape the waking dream
of infected fleas
in the warp and weft of soggy cloth
by the tailor’s hearth
in ye olde Eyam.
Then couldn’t un-see
the Boundary Stone,
that cock-eyed dice with its six dark holes,
thimbles brimming with vinegar wine
purging the plagued coins.
Which brought to mind the sorry story
of Emmott Syddall and Rowland Torre,
star-crossed lovers on either side
of the quarantine line
whose wordless courtship spanned the river
till she came no longer.
But slept again,and
dreamt this time
of the exiled yaksha sending word
to his lost wife on a passing cloud,
a cloud that followed an earthly map
of camel trails and cattle tracks,
streams like necklaces,
fan-tailed peacocks, painted elephants
embroidered bedspreads
of meadows and hedges,
bamboo forests and snow-hatted peaks,
waterfalls, creeks,
the hieroglyphs of wide-winged cranes
and the glistening lotus flower after rain,
the air
hypnotically see-through, rare,
the journey a ponderous one at times,
long and slow but necessarily so.
Gassho
Kokuu
-sattoday/lah-
Weavers
In times to come it will be proclaimed
by skalds*
The spring when we came together
from being apart
Watching the flowers grow
outside of our windows
And our children grow
inside
When we gathered the scraps of humanity
to weave a blanket
Wrapping it around the whole world
to the moon and back
Until we all fell asleep under its warmth
and soft smell
Of jasmine.
*a skald is a medieval Norse poet and story teller (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Skald)
Gassho
Kokuu
-sattoday/lah-
Kokuu
Thanks for sharing
Doshin
St
Give all away
Sorrow of death
Marking human defeat
More than 4 million infected
Morning glories bloom
Near path
Of no remorse wail
Of shrinking science
Stay away with no sister
Brother, all of humankind
Sequester in hovel ask
For food, clean water precious
Divide my cloths among you
Making mask of flannel shirt
Requirement of ordination
In ordinary robes, sacrament
Of death surpassing hundreds
Of thousands suffocate
In own sputum and blood
Who knew such defeat nature
Rebounding with red death
When
Does nothing come to nothing
As politicians through money
At citizenry and knowing defeat
Comes every day office
Of President a farce,
Some laugh grief away
When solace comes in
Sutra only prayer, in chant
In song, to hope harmony
Some will wail
Some will take and leave
Some will wonder
Some will look deeply
Some will grab, clutch
Some will search
Into earth like never before
Like never before
Like never.
Tai Shi
sat / lah
Gassho
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Thank you for this beautiful expression, Tai Shi. I have been trying to write covid poems and can't. I'm glad you are. I'm glad to have read it as it brings a little solace over this lonely divide.
I hope you are doing well.
Gassho
Kate / Hensho
Satlah
Sent from my LM-Q710.FGN using Tapatalk
Siste Kate. Did you know I never had a sister, and such a sister as you with depth and light giving hands as you write so well. Put your pen to paper, or fingers to electronic miracle which my father understands in whirling electrons. Oh, sister Kate we are united in poetry better birth in beauty like the poetry of a child the poem born in equanimity and compassion like pain of all birth. See, we face another, common peril the COVID 19 waiting to replicate itself in living tissue so you and I build edifice of time our poetry which will also disappear someday, like the virus. Nothing lasts forever but the concept of sister brother you and me. We are friends forever.
Tai Shi
sat / lah
Thank you sister Kate
Gassho
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Poetry is an act of peace, bridge against shores of time take boat of bodies into Pacific all ending war in 1974; which 55-thousand died against time like pandemic of 2020 where more than 60-thousand, or 70-thousand as largest economy hides those thousands of deaths, so best not to whimper-- stand tall in chronic, arthritic pain relax brain into just sit, Justice will uncover allot fascist history hypocrisy into exploitation of bodies, driven into silence where one only sits in non-revelation apprehending this act of Peace to Read and Write I have committed teaching Peace.
Tai Shi
sat/ lah
Gassho