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

Collapse
X
 
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts
  • Matt Johnson
    Member
    • Jun 2024
    • 490

    Originally posted by John MacBrayne
    A new book
    An old man lights the way
    To Neverland.

    Gassho,
    J
    sat/lah
    IMG_2087.jpg
    I love Kaz!

    _/\_
    matt

    Comment

    • Tai Shi
      Member
      • Oct 2014
      • 3438

      Autumn Finally Here

      Red across our little street
      Glimmers in this tree, maple
      Yellow, behind must be also
      Maple, where is cold
      Air, no autumn on record
      Wafted 93 degrees Fahrenheit,
      Fairweather is like the boat of air,
      Single mountain North America,

      In this state of no return, Dakota
      Sky, Nebraska why left behind,
      Iowa, my new beginning, my life.
      Winter will royal into our plains
      Town, so believe the soft breeze!
      It will only last an hour of your
      Life.

      Gassho
      lah/sat

      ​​​​​​
      Peaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆

      Comment

      • Tai Shi
        Member
        • Oct 2014
        • 3438

        Matt Johnson, I bought this book.
        Gassho
        lah/sat
        Peaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆

        Comment

        • Matt Johnson
          Member
          • Jun 2024
          • 490

          Originally posted by Tai Shi
          Autumn Finally Here

          Red across our little street
          Glimmers in this tree, maple
          Yellow, behind must be also
          Maple, where is cold
          Air, no autumn on record
          Wafted 93 degrees Fahrenheit,
          Fairweather is like the boat of air,
          Single mountain North America,

          In this state of no return, Dakota
          Sky, Nebraska why left behind,
          Iowa, my new beginning, my life.
          Winter will royal into our plains
          Town, so believe the soft breeze!
          It will only last an hour of your
          Life.

          Gassho
          lah/sat

          ​​​​​
          That paints such a beautiful picture... Do you ever take pictures?

          _/\_
          matt

          Comment

          • Seth Van Raemdonck
            Member
            • Oct 2024
            • 2

            Autumn in Belgium…
            Beautiful walks in the forest, and even a small poem

            Gassho,
            Seth
            You do not have permission to view this gallery.
            This gallery has 1 photos.

            Comment

            • Matt Johnson
              Member
              • Jun 2024
              • 490

              Fall...
              who can dress for it?
              more light than last year
              needles sewing pine needles
              washed dishes, asian lady beetles
              all the lights on, and a hot shower
              tap tapping away, my computer powered
              the sun’s gift stored, untouched by jolts—
              not even a flicker from my 12.9 volts.

              _/\_
              sat/ah
              matt
              You do not have permission to view this gallery.
              This gallery has 1 photos.

              Comment

              • Tai Shi
                Member
                • Oct 2014
                • 3438

                Matt, yes I take pictures and i enjoyed your poem. should we begin discussing not misusing sex.
                gassho
                lah/sat
                Peaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆

                Comment

                • Tai Shi
                  Member
                  • Oct 2014
                  • 3438

                  I Fear No Star

                  When night falls
                  Against night sky
                  Clouds chase below wind,

                  Storm brews, we have
                  Sat Zazen, relief
                  Soars below moon, eye
                  Earl King Swept Away


                  Of Storm on this way
                  I walked afraid of mist
                  The Earl king spews words

                  From my pen, south two
                  Separate hurricanes dropped
                  Salt beach on shore at night

                  Fall, uncased for days
                  Above shore, hills imaginary,
                  Cloak of wind Earl king's

                  Magic gnome, we have
                  Walked alone, we have been
                  Earl king's raft, river bone

                  We revolve, circle around
                  Star, never pilot high
                  Planet of sky, day, Night

                  Gone into clouds nigh
                  Another sediment swept
                  Before storm of Earl king

                  Child in his or her arms apart
                  Starlight peaks beneath
                  Sky, momentarily gone

                  Again, child fear not
                  Earl King; will not fly
                  You home into his clouds.

                  Believe parent's embrace
                  Life of Eye of Magic Sun System
                  Tree to sing another song.
                  Peaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆

                  Comment

                  • Matt Johnson
                    Member
                    • Jun 2024
                    • 490

                    Originally posted by Tai Shi
                    I Fear No Star

                    When night falls
                    Against night sky
                    Clouds chase below wind,

                    Storm brews, we have
                    Sat Zazen, relief
                    Soars below moon, eye
                    Earl King Swept Away


                    Of Storm on this way
                    I walked afraid of mist
                    The Earl king spews words

                    From my pen, south two
                    Separate hurricanes dropped
                    Salt beach on shore at night

                    Fall, uncased for days
                    Above shore, hills imaginary,
                    Cloak of wind Earl king's

                    Magic gnome, we have
                    Walked alone, we have been
                    Earl king's raft, river bone

                    We revolve, circle around
                    Star, never pilot high
                    Planet of sky, day, Night

                    Gone into clouds nigh
                    Another sediment swept
                    Before storm of Earl king

                    Child in his or her arms apart
                    Starlight peaks beneath
                    Sky, momentarily gone

                    Again, child fear not
                    Earl King; will not fly
                    You home into his clouds.

                    Believe parent's embrace
                    Life of Eye of Magic Sun System
                    Tree to sing another song.
                    Question...Who is Earl King?

                    _/\_
                    sat/ah
                    ​​​​​matt

                    Comment

                    • Tai Shi
                      Member
                      • Oct 2014
                      • 3438

                      Summer Celebration

                      Verses long, short, in
                      Between other stuff,
                      Seedlings layered up.
                      No buds, yet no wisps
                      Onto head of round
                      Ethereal nothingness
                      My own flower, deep red,
                      My own mind which
                      You must touch,
                      Parts learned,

                      Wisdom recounting
                      Lost days, meanderings
                      Minimal invisible,
                      Plant petals, ovum,
                      Stamen, nothing
                      More than air, quarter
                      Four, Four in winds, music,
                      Notes grasping at earth,
                      Wandering space, melody
                      Of time signature growth,
                      Past what I took to find,
                      Beautiful red, white, lavender
                      Color there to be taken,
                      Another wild room, second
                      Willed best bed, upon

                      Mother of my children,
                      Reconstruction, those
                      Thoughts, growing
                      Equations. ciphering
                      Air, light, soil into soil, stood up,
                      Roses, many existing types,
                      Included on normal
                      Days down within growth,
                      With leaves from that
                      Flower of morning sun,
                      Photons, philanthropic
                      Holes, moles next to roots,
                      Waste, smell to fertilize
                      Life, burrowing mole

                      Through woody grasp,
                      Into more dirt, suckling
                      Moisture out of, under
                      Vines above water satisfied
                      Sap through it's veins
                      This tubular stem
                      Meanders through life,
                      Wisdom of warmth,
                      Of summer rose buds,
                      Blooming in space,
                      Buds unseen until white
                      Reunite pink over bush
                      Flowers on top of leaves,
                      Green bush, one third under
                      Earthen crust, loam
                      Decaying vegetation,
                      Mocking time for new
                      Growth, dandelions,

                      Into soil, taproot,
                      Cut through. Comes back
                      Into rock breaking
                      Asunder another lava
                      Flow, partial vine, then
                      Another, quick now or miss
                      Speedy, one, two, three,
                      Puff of seed, into air, drifting
                      Into blue Oxygen, gas
                      Of substance, of matter,
                      Nestled above slender
                      Stem, tube of white sap
                      All stops atop roof
                      In floating grass to sprout
                      Again like rose hips,
                      Flowers have in common
                      Root, fine petals, engines
                      Of seed, news of next year,
                      Creating sugar from sun
                      Light to grow buds, blooms,
                      Simple life, self-contained,
                      Complex, year after year
                      After Year, sinking down,
                      Standing, sitting tall upon
                      Earth, soil, decaying plants
                      Into rotting leaves of grass,
                      Good Smell, green to brown,
                      An end in itself. We celebrate
                      Flowers of summer, seed of fall
                      Days, winter cold, spring seed
                      Another celebration! Summer.

                      Gassho
                      lah/sat

                      Tai Shi
                      Charles E Taylor
                      Peaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆

                      Comment

                      • Tai Shi
                        Member
                        • Oct 2014
                        • 3438

                        We have here many poems, many types written from the heart, and our Sangha benefits, the community is such a beautiful place, so try your hand at any type of poetry here in this bright section. Any member may write here whether lay member or not, whether priest in training or priest, just any member your hand and see what you can write from your heart.
                        Gassho
                        lah/sat
                        Peaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆

                        Comment

                        • Tai Shi
                          Member
                          • Oct 2014
                          • 3438

                          From Their Shoulders

                          Beautiful crest of new snow
                          Last Tuesday, a white crystal
                          Wine snow, land of daughter
                          She was born in Greeley
                          At the foot of Rockies, she knows
                          She returns to the land where
                          Parents became full adults
                          Sober parents graduated

                          Master of Poetry, worker
                          Of this government, father
                          Taught thought writing,
                          Literature of poets,
                          Americans, English, he
                          Had earned a Master of
                          Fine Arts, Master of Arts,
                          Specializing in teaching
                          To help earn a livelihood,
                          Mother giving her graduate
                          Master of Arts in Social
                          Security, anthropology helping VA
                          Veterans retire, they
                          Moved to Plains State
                          South Dakota, daughter
                          Went back to Colorado
                          At the foot of Rockies,
                          She earns her livelihood
                          In the steps of parents,
                          Father still writes poetry
                          Mother edits his third
                          what may be his final
                          Book, Called after his
                          Namesake Zen poetry
                          Big Verse, Ten Precepts
                          For Kindness. Then
                          There are many more
                          Than one hundred ten
                          Pages of life to live
                          By, this is his winter, his
                          Winter of life, such

                          The beauty of fall, summer,
                          Springtime, with each
                          Others living in their
                          Free and clear fall swamp
                          Land, reclaimed from
                          Prairie, the place to raise
                          Little girl, bright shining
                          BA, MFA, PhD she went

                          Beyond her parents who
                          Said she should
                          Grow from their shoulders
                          Not their bootstraps, they
                          Will pass away now she
                          Has mother's brilliance
                          Father's direction, even
                          Through, this said, she
                          Never would write poetry
                          Part of her living like
                          Father when she writes
                          Poetry. She's more, is to
                          Climb from their shoulders
                          She is and was the only
                          The child because mom, dad
                          Could have no more, they
                          Taught her to give back
                          Not to take so she
                          Allows her students to do
                          Need not to toil over three
                          Hours each night learning
                          Her Japanese poetry,
                          They may devote themselves
                          To others like Father in
                          His first college classes,
                          Subjects, so she has
                          Learned more of spring
                          With her PhD in Japanese
                          Literature, comp lit

                          Theirs is not to major
                          Theirs to conduct business
                          Fly to companies, cipher
                          In their foreign language,
                          Theirs is Elective, hers
                          Is a career in literature
                          Language, among Aspens,
                          Out among pines, peepers,,
                          Streams, parents gave
                          Extra, livelihood in her own
                          Beauty, Spring, Summer
                          Fall, Winter, Spring, white
                          These years of Colorado
                          She toils like her parents,
                          On what is not Cherokee
                          Land, or Mexican border,
                          She gives of herself, she
                          Is like Zen father, Retired
                          Soldiers, for her mother
                          These are these days
                          Of Poetry, mother editing
                          Father's third book, father
                          Writing from his heart, daughter
                          Finding her heart, their
                          Mutual AVMs prevented

                          Daughter from marriage
                          Poetry became her brain
                          Child, even at age thirty-five
                          Writing books, publishing
                          Dissertation, she is brilliant
                          Climbing in parent's winter
                          From shoulders, she knows
                          Brilliance, poetry, giving
                          Much still like Mother, mom
                          Who sewed Halloween
                          Costume, gave lunches
                          To childish wishes, they
                          Always be giving
                          Family, aspens, students
                          Greeley, Ft Collins, livelihood,
                          Lifted from Lakota, Nakota,
                          Dakota, never taking Denver,
                          Giving to Mexican livelihood,
                          May they always be Spring
                          Gratitude, Meditation,
                          On Gratitude, giving from
                          2014 to 2025, still all
                          Those years of writing
                          At age five, My Little
                          Book of Poetry, She
                          Was just like parents,
                          Except in Japanese,
                          Reading Korean and Spanish
                          She gives willingly to others,
                          She behaves
                          From their shoulders, they
                          Are old, soon will pass
                          Away, she will for Mourning

                          Give of grateful
                          Family, she will
                          Write books,
                          Climb in the Rockies,
                          Leaving Black Hills
                          To Dakota People
                          She will write
                          Teach for a living
                          Provide retirement
                          For her young
                          Students, hers
                          Is giving never
                          Taking from boot
                          Straps, she found
                          Generous flight
                          Like a flock of Birds
                          Like a flotilla of fish
                          Hers is Dogen
                          She does not
                          Know it, yet
                          Reads Dogen
                          In the Original,
                          She fulfills her
                          Parents scholarship
                          She gives from her heart,
                          Not her AVMs all over
                          Her body, this one
                          Thing she inherited
                          From parents, yet
                          She rose above
                          Her limits, like
                          Mom and Dad, as
                          They did this for their
                          Parents, surmise
                          Giving lives,

                          Living lives,
                          Snowy winters,
                          The reality of living,
                          In these Mountains,
                          On Prairie, in Denver,
                          In Hartford, South
                          Dakota, the little
                          Home not on Dakota
                          Native Land her Apartment
                          Not on Cherokee
                          Land, always giving
                          Always from
                          Shoulders, life
                          Ever after.

                          Gassho
                          lah/sat
                          Ubasoku
                          Last edited by Tai Shi; 11-24-2024, 03:00 PM.
                          Peaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆

                          Comment

                          • Tai Shi
                            Member
                            • Oct 2014
                            • 3438

                            To Tell Father Love

                            It's 7:18 in my morning,
                            In other places, it is 7:18 PM,

                            Winter comes on in late November,
                            The day of Thanksgiving begins at midnight

                            Trees are bare; often, the sky is gray
                            My father is not himself, and I have come

                            To Love him, like brown leaves, his body
                            Will dissolve. his mind will remain in his book

                            Showing how to make a lift from motors
                            Witing of steel mesh, and metal pullies,

                            Margret hurting from severe arthritis
                            Who could not ascend stairs into her

                            Motor home, he designed handicapped
                            Elevator taking this person from the ground

                            He designed a shortwave two-way radio,
                            For Tiny Autos, published it in a magazine

                            In his high school teaching, he worked for
                            For four years, at Sierra College he taught

                            For twenty-four years, I watched him
                            Earn his bread and raise my brother

                            Until I was six, and my brother was four
                            Time is for me to step out of his shoes,

                            In 1999. I was declared legally disabled
                            From rheumatoid arthritis of the spine.

                            Technically my age crept on me
                            Thirty years before his body became weak,

                            He was eighty-eight when our bodies
                            Said we were like Autumn Trees, fall

                            Of our lives, and I said to him when he
                            Turned eighty-eight, Father I love you,

                            He did not respond, this way, a man
                            Said no strong emotion, yet important

                            It is for me to tell him before he dies.
                            He saw the child grow into manhood,

                            "Father I love you," he had allowed me
                            To learn to write my strong Poems,.

                            To publish books of poetry, neither
                            Did we make money writing but we taught

                            For our bread, for our homes, and times
                            Our children grew, I could say, "I love you."

                            Gassho
                            Tai Shi
                            Last edited by Tai Shi; 11-27-2024, 02:21 PM.
                            Peaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆

                            Comment

                            • Matt Johnson
                              Member
                              • Jun 2024
                              • 490

                              無害無賠 (Mugai Mubai)

                              A Maverick dented in the passenger rear
                              Tail light missing, school parking lot clear

                              My daughter comes out. No sense of fear
                              I called the cops. "hit 'n' run dear"

                              Then we found the note illegible and sad
                              Illegible name illegible number, somebody's dad

                              Too poor for insurance or so they say
                              But $10,000 or 180 day jail stay!?

                              I wanted to protect them. I wanted. I tried
                              The system is not fair. I couldn't have lied

                              I just don't have $4,000 to spare
                              This could be the wake up call from their nightmare

                              Better hit my truck in a parking lot
                              Then to hurt someone and leave them without

                              _/\_
                              sat/ah
                              matt

                              Comment

                              • Tai Shi
                                Member
                                • Oct 2014
                                • 3438

                                Thirty Years a Maple

                                For me to talk endlessly
                                To make up stories about Time
                                After Time is to be like my maple
                                In my front yard. First,
                                How can I call it my maple?
                                Does not this being
                                Of red and yellow in fall,
                                Of bear limbs in winter,
                                Of pale green shoots in spring,
                                Of depth in itself, of deep
                                Green in summer does not
                                This great plant that adds
                                Rings of wood, of pith
                                Each year, of great
                                The wood of flesh does not
                                This being living for itself
                                Which is not for my own? Has
                                Not the beauty of twirling
                                Yellow seeds in spring
                                To populate the earth with maples,
                                Is this not its own life, its own
                                High regard, a consciousness
                                Not unlike any mammal upon the earth?
                                Gassho
                                lah/sat
                                "泰士" Tai Shi
                                Last edited by Tai Shi; 12-01-2024, 04:05 PM.
                                Peaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆

                                Comment

                                Working...