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Thread: ARTS: Big and Little Poetry--free verse, any verse.

  1. #101
    Deep in the woods
    The path
    Revealed itself

    https://drive.google.com/file/d/1mMb...w?usp=drivesdk

    Jon
    Sat
    Jon
    Sat

  2. #102
    Shawnzen
    Member

    This message has been deleted by Shawnzen.
    Reason
    I am dissatisfied with my poems, and so I have decided to delete a majority of them.
    Shawn,

    I am no critic of poetry, even Zen poetry ...

    ... but I do know that most of the critic often exists just between our own two ears. Perhaps you might repost them.

    Gassho, J

    STLah

    PS - For what my opinion is worth, I truly really liked your poems.
    ALL OF LIFE IS OUR TEMPLE

  3. #103

    The Brook

    desire -
    the babbling brook
    flows around it
    Jon
    Sat

  4. #104
    There are no critics here. We post our poetry, and as is often the case with me, they are impromptu meanderings through the woods of words-- don't worry-- no one will criticise, and within reason, all are welcome-- we claim no bad or good-- we just are and we like it all-- Shawn please come back-- you are welcome here. I welcome you.
    Gassho
    sat/ lah
    Tai Shi
    Last edited by Tai Shi; 12-31-2020 at 07:50 PM. Reason: helpful
    I SAY whatever tastes sweet to the most perfect person, that is finally right. Walt Whitman 1860 Leaves of Grass.

  5. #105
    Member Seikan's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2020
    Location
    Massachusetts, United States
    Quote Originally Posted by Tai Shi View Post
    There are no critics here. We post our poetry, and as is often the case with me, they are impromptu meanderings through the woods of words-- don't worry-- no one will criticise, and within reason, all are welcome-- we claim no bad or good-- we just are and we like it all-- Shawn please come back-- you are welcome here. I welcome you.
    Gassho
    sat/ lah
    Tai Shi
    Tai Shi said it perfectly. This is a wonderful space to share our poetry with no unsolicited critique. I know that my own work won't resonate with everyone, and that's fine. If we're moved to share our work in the first place, that is all that matters.

    Please do continue to share. The more the merrier!

    Gassho,
    Rob

    -stlah-


    Sent from my Pixel 4a (5G) using Tapatalk
    聖簡 Seikan (Sacred Simplicity)

  6. #106

    Sitting

    Thoughts racing, turning, chasing
    Changing
    Coming, leaving all at once
    Grasping
    Grasped
    Gone
    Underneath the storm
    Is silence
    Peace
    Present
    All along
    Jon
    Sat

  7. #107
    Quote Originally Posted by PeaceMan View Post
    Thoughts racing, turning, chasing
    Changing
    Coming, leaving all at once
    Grasping
    Grasped
    Gone
    Underneath the storm
    Is silence
    Peace
    Present
    All along

    Very, nice, For me, so long as I relax, zazen is peaceful.
    Gassho
    sat/lah
    Gassho
    I SAY whatever tastes sweet to the most perfect person, that is finally right. Walt Whitman 1860 Leaves of Grass.

  8. #108
    Quote Originally Posted by PeaceMan View Post
    desire -
    the babbling brook
    flows around it
    Yes, I babble just like a brook. As a young man, I said little. I grew older more and more water eroded my stones. I am now smooth. I babble.
    Gassho
    sat / lah
    Gassho
    Tai Shi
    I SAY whatever tastes sweet to the most perfect person, that is finally right. Walt Whitman 1860 Leaves of Grass.

  9. #109

    Righting Wrong View

    Wrong is not the opposite of right
    Wrong is right astray
    Pushing and pulling everything in its way
    Jon
    Sat

  10. #110
    Member Seikan's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2020
    Location
    Massachusetts, United States
    Quote Originally Posted by PeaceMan View Post
    Wrong is not the opposite of right
    Wrong is right astray
    Pushing and pulling everything in its way
    Jon,

    I really like this one. In particular the line, "Wrong is right astray". This is good food for thought/non-thought and dovetails nicely with our ongoing precepts study.



    Gassho,
    Rob

    -stlah-

  11. #111
    Not seeking objects
    Not clinging to views
    I abide as I am
    Without knowing right from wrong

    Like a little boy
    I drink my coffee
    Abandoning my mind
    I stumble forward

    I cannot find enlightenment
    I cannot get rid of delusion
    Some things make me feel good
    And other things hurt me

    Sat today

  12. #112
    This person that I witness
    And his relationship to life
    Is good in some ways,
    Bad in others

    A constant feeling
    Of being bad
    And trying very hard
    To be good

    I could not become a Buddha
    By percieving the three marks
    Nor could I become a jnani
    By negating all forms

    Looking upon people like Christ and Ramakrishna
    A breath of fresh air fills my lungs and my heart is softened
    Why do I like these people?
    Perhaps because I feel that they are without judgement

    My own judgements are harsh
    Towards myself and others
    I understand what the Buddha said,
    But I cannot bare to try to be like him anymore

    Sat today
    Gassho
    Thank you all for the kind words

  13. #113
    Gradually learning to let go of unhappiness
    And learning to be kind to others.
    In the past, I have sinned
    By hurting others.
    In the present,
    I abide as awareness and watch my life happen.
    In my body,
    I practice Zazen every day and try my best to uphold moral virtues.
    Sometimes I feel like shaving my head,
    And other times I do not feel like shaving my head.
    The tall oak tree stands amongst blades of grass.
    The blades of grass tickle the base of the tree,
    And the tree offers the blades of grass some shelter from the elements.
    As the wind blows,
    Both the tree and the blades of grass sway from side to side.

    Gassho
    Sat today

  14. #114
    Hi. One more poem for today. I promise I won't delete them again. I just need to learn to get past my own embarrassment.

    Sitting on the couch,
    The world is my self.
    Even though I am different from the world,
    I identify with the world.
    Even though the world is different from me,
    I merge with the world.
    Sitting on the couch,
    I allow all things to be as they are.
    Allowing all things to be as they are,
    I practice patience, kindness, humility, and love for self and others.

    Sat today
    Gassho

    P.S. also, a question. I see some people writing "lah" in their posts. What does that stand for?

    Thanks for giving me a chance to share my poetry with you all. I hope you all have a nice day, whereever you are.

  15. #115
    Quote Originally Posted by Shawnzen View Post
    P.S. also, a question. I see some people writing "lah" in their posts. What does that stand for?

    Thanks for giving me a chance to share my poetry with you all. I hope you all have a nice day, whereever you are.
    Hey there! Embarrassment is normal I think. Us writers and poets are always so self-critical. Please keep sharing, they’re great

    LAH is short for “lend/lent a hand”. Where signing ST/Sat/Sat Today is what you’ll see most, LAH is usually after if someone feels called to share

    Gassho,
    Jesse
    ST

  16. #116
    Member Seikan's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2020
    Location
    Massachusetts, United States
    On Call

    I'm not a doctor
    Or civil servant
    Yet I'm always on edge
    Always waiting
    For the other shoe
    That may never fall
    Few and far between
    Are those sublime moments
    When I let my guard down
    Welcoming the anxiety
    As an old friend
    Who stays only so long
    Before taking their leave
    And I go back to pretending
    That they're still here beside me


    Gassho,
    Rob

    -stlah-

  17. #117
    This Buddha Nature

    He began to prove
    From clouds found
    In mother's eyes,
    His Miss Emily
    Her poetry like death,
    Still in days she heard
    Him cry, lost,
    Blind to Buddha
    Nature, left
    His mindfulness,

    In India, or Iowa,
    In skys of stone.
    Sioux Falls in spring,
    Where Buddhists
    In their Theravada
    Robes were worn
    Not for his cry for
    Freedom. He ran

    From darkness,
    This loneliness,
    His second chance.
    Their seated Buddha
    Statue free from spite.
    Now Shikantaze.
    Inspiration
    His lost darkness.

    Of 12th century
    She walked in Kyoto,
    Never in mountain
    Shrine Eihei-ji temple.
    In time of winter time,
    Then to Black Hills
    Highest Mountains
    West of Rockies.

    He could walk without pain
    For a time, Turtle Creek,
    Not to Dogen yet,
    He found himself
    His poetry, his pivcytures great,
    This temple comes
    Only for monks who wait.
    Give Lay Members
    Jukai undertaking.
    Precepts do not show

    Window vows taken
    In youth, complet
    As dawning in eastern light
    Skies, through day, then
    Sunset of life for each other.
    As they climbed
    They saw their days
    Looked back at what
    Was closed to them.

    With his Inner world,
    He dreamt of Zen, found
    Years gave way
    To meditation,
    At fifty found again,
    Freedom from drudge
    His reward from school,
    Teaching easys, lesson plans,
    Dedication giving way
    To difficulties not forseen.

    Let them go, not student,
    Not teacher, nor scholar,
    His life in ordinary work.
    Again he knew winter.
    Felt arthritic spine
    Inflamation, feeling
    Ever ill, then poetry
    Found delight in words again,
    He found his Bower of Bliss,

    Then September Jubilee,
    Still more delight at sixty
    Years set free by pain
    Explore his inner world
    Again, Good poetry, good food,
    Then Shikantaza in 2014,

    His ease, Insight meditation,
    Counting Breath his reward
    She sought to see.
    Her eyes legally blind,
    Her world dim with sight,
    Marked by blindness
    In left eye,
    He helped correct,

    With his cameras, composition
    With Nature in magisterial
    He was cloth cut clean, color
    Theory, now she is his autumn.
    He lives her spring,
    She is his Queen of Peace,
    His eyes forever
    Her sight restored in him,

    She is set free.
    She ministers
    To his body, takes his
    Suffering away,
    She is Zendo practice,
    His final acceptance.

    Gassho
    sat/ lah
    Tai Shi
    Last edited by Tai Shi; 01-03-2021 at 04:42 PM. Reason: concision, spelling. my grammar checker says 9+ errors.
    I SAY whatever tastes sweet to the most perfect person, that is finally right. Walt Whitman 1860 Leaves of Grass.

  18. #118
    Already perfect,
    I sit down and celebrate my wholeness.
    Sometimes I am confused.
    Sometimes the blue sky is obscured by a veil of grey clouds.
    The scenery of the sky is not a hindrance for the sky,
    Just as the branches of the tree are not parasites on the tree.
    Sometimes my heart is insecure.
    Often I do things and then regret those things later.
    Abandoning my need to be perfect,
    I forgive myself and others.

    Gassho
    ST

  19. #119
    what a strange thing, this life is.

    between tugging, clinging and pushing away

    we find the peace to drop everything.

  20. #120
    I am so happy
    Today someone
    Thought of my need
    Of understanding
    They gave back to me.
    My gift, card sent
    Without mail said,
    "Enjoy," So, I am
    I live too, I am
    Acknowledged in winter
    Snow where one lives
    Abidingly relived
    Happy angle reality
    Forgiveness in gratitude
    Heightened, relaxed
    Another 10 degree day
    Daughter headed East
    To Vermont, her Middlebury
    Rebound of Japanese
    Study, Great Library
    Snowy Mountains
    Of Nobel Laurel
    Her name a garnet
    Become ruby jewel
    In Ring of scholarship
    Above father's reaching
    Her desire for scholarship
    Woman, now she
    Faces COVID-19 vanquished
    In books of Japanese
    Intent back to Vermont
    Great libraries witnessed
    In happiness, two angles
    Reality together ever
    Friends in Japanese,
    One Librarian, the other
    Teacher, Poet, Scholar
    Like father but higher
    Her dissertation underway,
    Her greatest ambition
    To know, to see, to be,
    Yes, today I'm happy.

    Gassho
    sat/ lah
    Tai Shi
    I SAY whatever tastes sweet to the most perfect person, that is finally right. Walt Whitman 1860 Leaves of Grass.

  21. #121
    Book Leaf

    Book is my fig leaf,
    Unforgotten in blizzards
    Of yesterday's wind.
    !00 kilometers an hour
    I count this day
    White snow to books
    Yes, eternal yes,
    This is my tower.
    These are my ideas,
    Not Bodhisattva.
    Gassho
    Sat/ lah
    Tai Shi
    I SAY whatever tastes sweet to the most perfect person, that is finally right. Walt Whitman 1860 Leaves of Grass.

  22. #122
    Never Stone

    Her Tales,
    In grammar,
    Morning star
    Each moon,
    Our meditations grow
    Then Shikantaza
    Dawn In Canterbury's
    Eastern light.

    Without her coat
    Cold comes in waves,
    Simple caves
    Of thread, She stitches
    Days of poetry
    My cover her rakusu.
    Verses grow,
    Her blue eyes

    Our Shore of light
    My stories of ancient
    Diggings wherever
    Is Home, is ours,
    Our residence
    House on Mary Lane,

    In South Dakota eyes,
    Visions in sight returned
    He becomes her eyes
    Her Western night,
    Never stone.

    Gassho
    sat/lah
    Tai Shi
    Last edited by Tai Shi; 01-18-2021 at 12:40 PM. Reason: Total revision
    I SAY whatever tastes sweet to the most perfect person, that is finally right. Walt Whitman 1860 Leaves of Grass.

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