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

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  • Guest
    Guest replied
    Originally posted by Jundo

    I thank you for this. Powerful poem.

    (I also read it twice, just checking that my name is not in there. Hopefully, there will be no future verse about me ever! I also remind folks constantly about the HUNDREDS of Zen and other Buddhist teachers who help people, not hurt them, make no bad waves, cause no scandal ... so get no headlines, and no poem. The bad apples get the attention ... as they should ... but the beautiful orchard sometimes get ignored. )

    Gassho, J
    stlah
    No so far the only thing I've heard about you is that you're argumentative. But I can't really say anything about that myself (glass houses and all)...

    _/\_
    sat/ah
    matt

    Leave a comment:


  • Jundo
    replied
    Originally posted by Matt Johnson
    戒 (Kai)

    Not Shimano’s or Sasaki’s women,
    Who fell beneath their whispered sin,
    Not Anderson’s fatal spree,
    Not Maezumi’s hidden glee.

    Not Baker’s downfall, pride astray,
    Not Ikkyu’s crossing every line,
    Not Dalai Lama’s strange embrace,
    Of Asahara’s deadly grace.

    Not Jean Vanier’s women’s trial,
    Nor Trungpa’s coked-up reckless style,
    Not Seung Sahn’s heart of lies,
    Not Chögyal’s wild fantasy skies.

    Not Merzel’s twisted Zen charade,
    Not Taisen’s lineage mislaid,
    Not Swami Rama’s secret play,
    Nor Osho’s poisoned desert sway.

    Not Sogyal’s cult-like grip of pain,
    Not Amrit Desai’s lustful reign,
    Not Gandhi's troubling Manu test,
    Nor Muktananda’s darkened quest.

    These saints who stumbled from on high— It seems the brightest lights have shadows. Why?
    If all roads lead to such a fall,
    Why seek to lead, when truth veils all?
    Perhaps it's best to live and be,
    A simple heart, untamed, yet free.

    _/\_
    sat/ah
    matt
    I thank you for this. Powerful poem.

    (I also read it twice, just checking that my name is not in there. Hopefully, there will be no future verse about me ever! I also remind folks constantly about the HUNDREDS of Zen and other Buddhist teachers who help people, not hurt them, make no bad waves, cause no scandal ... so get no headlines, and no poem. The bad apples get the attention ... as they should ... but the beautiful orchard sometimes get ignored. )

    Gassho, J
    stlah

    Leave a comment:


  • Guest
    Guest replied

    戒 (Kai)

    Not Shimano’s or Sasaki’s women,
    Who fell beneath their whispered sin,
    Not Anderson’s fatal spree,
    Not Maezumi’s hidden glee.

    Not Baker’s downfall, pride astray,
    Not Ikkyu’s crossing every line,
    Not Dalai Lama’s strange embrace,
    Of Asahara’s deadly grace.

    Not Jean Vanier’s women’s trial,
    Nor Trungpa’s coked-up reckless style,
    Not Seung Sahn’s heart of lies,
    Not Chögyal’s wild fantasy skies.

    Not Merzel’s twisted Zen charade,
    Not Taisen’s lineage mislaid,
    Not Swami Rama’s secret play,
    Nor Osho’s poisoned desert sway.

    Not Sogyal’s cult-like grip of pain,
    Not Amrit Desai’s lustful reign,
    Not Gandhi's troubling Manu test,
    Nor Muktananda’s darkened quest.​

    These saints who stumbled from on high— It seems the brightest lights have shadows. Why?
    If all roads lead to such a fall,
    Why seek to lead, when truth veils all?
    Perhaps it's best to live and be,
    A simple heart, untamed, yet free.

    _/\_
    sat/ah
    matt​

    Leave a comment:


  • Guest
    Guest replied
    Originally posted by Tai Shi
    Three Teachers, (Four Poems)

    First writing of work
    He called it transactional,
    Then come language
    Of self, self personal
    With always audience
    Of one, audience
    Then came language of art
    Everything to create?....….........

    Foots Down

    Oh my child, can it be?
    It is now time for me to say
    I must let you learn the hard way?

    17 years of feeling
    Your pain, Our pain
    Fix your own damn drive train.

    Wait till graduation
    Delayed gratification
    Is what builds a nation

    24 years for a Rakusu
    24 weeks for a car
    Didn't think we'd get this far

    The time has come
    If you want it, work for it
    Or simply stop wanting shit

    Is the best lesson I could teach
    The only lesson you will get
    No, you are not an adult yet

    My parents never taught me this
    "I'll be a better one" is the danger
    By not giving into our anger




    This poem is probably a little more "literal" than yours Taishi. I still have a lot of concepts about what makes a poem. I'm sure you can teach me a thing or two. I'm happy to be your Ango partner and I'm happy to use poetry to communicate.

    _/\_
    sat/ah
    matt
    Last edited by Guest; 09-05-2024, 03:29 PM.

    Leave a comment:


  • Tai Shi
    replied
    Three Teachers, (Four Poems)


    Ultimate Questions

    One writes big
    One writes small, Big
    and Little poetry haven't
    We said bitrh can mingle like love
    Of flowers, love of zenith, one
    Love of Planet, Galaxy, Earth

    It's Earthtide, Moon,
    Male Tide, Female
    Tide. Chinese
    Space race,
    Russian Space
    Races

    Daughter it's
    Wonderful. its
    My gift to my
    Femenity, all senerity
    Unsucessful marriges,
    Successful narrative
    No marrige, questions
    Of femenity this freedom
    Daughter It's given
    Rough hewen,
    Trees

    Lesson plans, sigh
    You have plans right
    The idea is to get
    Students, boys,
    Girls to grow up
    Speak Japanese.
    My job was to seek
    Expression, like
    James Moffet taught
    Expression of Language
    Three Rings

    First writing of work
    He called it transactional,
    Then come language
    Of self, self personal
    With always audience
    Of one, audience
    Then came language of art
    Everything to create?




    All Three Come
    To Teaching

    Truth comes, art, poetry
    Beautiful language
    Itself personal,
    Transactional
    Again language of all
    Creation, showing

    Beautiful unity, focus
    Building blocks, outline,
    This is creation most
    Beautiful of all, narrative
    Everything is story,
    Grammar,
    Direction,

    Poetry is everything
    Even weather girls,
    I gave to daughter
    Gavelanguage
    Broken
    Whole sentances
    Back to me

    My birthday ice-
    Cream cake, building
    Out of chaos, Electricity
    In Rock music, electronically
    Formulated
    Certainty was mine
    Claim of twin towers,
    I had it first written poetry
    Four o'clock mother
    AM, mother Gave birth,
    Silently, father alone
    One even September
    Elventh ninteen, fifty-
    One, ultimately all
    Of us are one, we
    Cannot pull father
    Out of womb!
    Left for doctors,
    Nurses, Asked
    "Toch her. She's yours!"

    Instill this gift
    Always life
    As direction
    Father was working
    To create even
    If it's poetry nothing
    No pay for poetry

    You united all three
    Little one that's is genius,
    In your PhD, transactional
    Personal, written art
    Out of translations
    Creation of Poetry.

    That was my gift,
    Tansactional, Personal,
    United in Art,
    Taught at universities,
    You gave me, creation
    Of Poetry, father's job
    Completed as you
    Became your own, teacher
    Of your own creation
    Lessons Planned, Outlined,
    Orginized all work father,
    Trasactional, my father
    World of oil fields
    Your world ultimately
    Found language
    One creation united
    Translations Creation
    Of beauty, translations
    Of art, writing your own poetry.

    You are ultimately
    Poetry of heart
    Showing humanity
    Language of birth,

    I gave you your own birth
    From my shoulders
    Never bootstraps.
    My father gave me
    Ultimately language
    Of work his completely
    Transactional
    I rejected worl of oil
    Rigs, Math, Machines,
    Electronics.
    Father's own boots
    Climbing Towers
    Pounding into Earth.



    Transations, Abstract
    Personal Art

    Wait, he was ultmately
    Teacher of trnsactions,
    His was creation of Earth
    I was a teacher of expression
    Essays of worth, solid
    Classifications, arguments
    Poetry of Salt, Herritage
    Of personal, art
    Out,of all three
    Out of dust, out'
    Of concrete mixed with rock
    Sand, water traweled

    Into fences, into driveways
    Into transations of Falls
    Into chairs, onto wood floors,
    Into seventy-three-years-old
    Falling, stumbaling, cutting
    Arms, hands, I age like
    Father who must die
    Of cardiac arrest, heart
    Quits pumping, fails
    From pulminary arrest
    Lungs quit pumping
    Daughter shoulder
    Your load. You teach
    At thirty-five, yours is legacy
    Of Professorship
    Working tword longevity.

    All of us, daughter,
    My poetry of raw material,
    Pictures, my father
    We became teachers
    Language you of transactions
    Combined in all three,
    Poetry, personal
    Transational
    In kindness to Japanese

    Who were not
    Bombs of of Peral
    Harbor, Pacific Campaign
    Okinawa
    To avoid slaughter of humanity
    Two-hunfred fifty thousand
    Lives taken with
    Two bombs
    We are no Heroshima,
    Nagasaki, this is
    Your time, Father great
    Depression For me twin towers
    Legacy from Lutenat Cowley
    Milai, entire village
    Slaughtered, Vietnam
    Thich Naht Hanah

    Dughter, Desert Storm
    Jewish ultimate question,
    Ultimate question Her Nebula
    Inherited all of us
    Within her PhD.
    This was the dream
    Of my father, and me,
    You completed direction
    You made your own PhD
    You finally you worked,
    Ours was creation,
    You mayNever marry,
    I see It clearly




    Three Teachers
    Questions of Peace

    I gave you my shoulders
    To climb out of this mess
    My father gave me
    His bootstaps to climb
    Out of this mess,
    So I became teacher
    Of Poetry, personal

    You are all three
    Transactional, personal
    Art as I watched you
    Take the Apgar,
    I touched her,
    Nurses, doctors
    Gave you hard,
    Hard hard birth,
    You were thirty days
    Old we saw it
    AVM on bottom
    Of your left foot,
    No ammount of surgery
    Could give you
    What I had, brain surgery
    Entirely throught
    Mine was successfully
    Hought for life,
    Your decision

    You nearly died
    From AVM,
    Ours is a differny solution
    You will never marry
    Or bear children yet
    You bear all children
    If great depression
    Atom bombs
    World war three as Eart
    Explode its Envirement
    With our dream
    In your PhD, gratitude
    In a way you
    Not only climbed
    From my shoulders,

    You climbed from my
    Fathers Bootstraps,
    You are creator, you
    Artist ultimately
    Will your generation
    Save Enviornment,
    Your Japanese
    Language of ten thousand

    Paper cranes, oh boats
    Of children, of Peace,
    You are a Professor
    Of Japanese, you
    Are saving little
    Ones as university
    Prfessor of Japanese,
    This is your
    Ultimate sucess,
    To live inspite of dozens
    Of surgeries,
    Like our own tumors,
    You live beyond,
    You have found peace
    Tranquality, all
    That grandpa Atom Bomb,
    My generation Vietnam
    Your generation, Do we
    Destroy Earth, for Short sighted
    Luxery, oil, gas, plastiv
    Beer bottles,, filth, dropped
    To Bottom of Mariannes Trench

    Demanding Peace,
    This is our legaccy, did
    All three find our own
    Peace? Will humanity
    Destroy Earth
    Not heading creations
    Of artestry, Poetry
    Personal, Transactions,
    Warnings of teachers,
    Is this question of Peace?


    Gassho
    lah/sat
    Tai Shi
    Calm Poetry
    Last edited by Tai Shi; 09-05-2024, 02:49 PM.

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  • Guest
    Guest replied
    Fall Hermit

    I done a hard thing
    Served a mountain of Pizza
    Died to the summer

    Floating no goal
    Fall preparation has begun
    My Hermitage

    A yurt, a forest
    Precepts and a rakusu
    Dreams of empty space

    _/\_
    sat/ah
    matt

    Leave a comment:


  • Tai Shi
    replied
    Moments of Song

    Thid mornining brings glorious
    Wonder, why do we praise moments?
    Why so more sintilating movmement
    Buddha insight? Wonder again?

    Wonderment devine, morsals,
    Of Delight, divisions of reverent
    Divded day insulent rerervenit,
    Wonderment, moments into silence

    These are days without ties,
    To miraculous delitment, of days
    Of days of morning light
    Without more solitude of song.

    Tai Shi
    Gassho
    lah/sat

    Leave a comment:


  • Tai Shi
    replied
    Priest-in-Training, I Host
    My Rags Gifts of Priests, Clergy

    I had wanted to be clergy
    As boy after church camp
    I had wanted to teach, preach
    Blood of Jesus, equated
    With my parents, whose
    Cross, hammered nails into hands
    Spear into side, beast friend betryal
    Not once but three times, now
    I am an old man, in less than
    Two weeks I will be seventy-three
    Seventy three years, then
    In High School I wantted to be
    Space MAN, withstand radiation
    For years, discover alian races,
    They would be Parented who never
    Broke my heart, never beat me,
    Never contridicted my words,
    With their lies, so Joind Boys
    Club, there I taught photograpy
    To this group of little Black Kids, one name
    Believe me was Harry Baily, then I was white
    Where are Black, who As old man met lifer in U.S.
    Army, his name, Bill Baily, now. gone honestly
    He's dead, quiet, after he retired, sat in corner
    He joined groups where we swore on Big Book
    Off drinking any alcohol, I had
    Become a poet, when I asked
    Methodist cleargy if I might
    Become Lay Minister, keep my
    Buddhahood, keep my Loving
    Kindness, I believed Dali, greatest
    Lama, that Kindness was
    My religion, Buddha said
    "Most important is Loving
    Kindness" what difference
    Was love one another, love, each,
    thy neighbor" as in humanity
    Said, love, not machine guns, bombs
    Was most importantt, not as
    In sex, but in those friends, those students
    Family we could understand Poetry
    Deep down inside, spirit, givinfg
    Everything even my life, death not Poetry
    There is one who never betrayed, me,
    Me, my locving wife, her name
    My answer, in university all I was to be
    Was Like Keates, Truth is Beauty
    Beauty is truth, truth, unlike, psychology
    My Parents, my father held his belt
    High, father I searched out after He
    Abandoned me, after ten years
    Nothing years, I didn't know where
    He lived, so I called up my aunt

    Karen who gave me his number,
    So I called, after Europe he was at home
    Never gave me a nickle Wanted me be,
    Germany. I never learned past first year,
    Quit Sanoma State University they wanted
    Me to study.This was Grattis, then ten years
    Later I found one who loved
    Me unconditionally, who gave me her MFA
    Sold to her as I was an old man founf her,
    Sixty-nine, now she's sixty-nine-years-old
    I received my gifts, she made me become
    Poetry. Me poet at forty, at brink, quit drink
    Thirty-eight she bore our child
    Almost died for that birth, LOVE eterna
    For both of us,I began to thank her all my life,
    I had quit drinking, she taught gratitude

    Me, I was to be honest, how to give
    How to take my meager money,
    Spend less, always give to her
    With our woman child, we often
    Ask each other, "Who are we? How
    Dit it happen? How did we raise her, our child
    To be everlasting honesty? Be Professor
    From birth how did we teach honestly
    Loveing," She became Dr. of Philosophy,
    Laurel Ann, I wassn't always
    Easy! What I wanted, I never quit
    MFA Writing, even Poettry, here give
    Oh, poetry, out PhD for daughter, Professor
    Of Japanese Oh our Pearl of Greatest
    Marjorie, I still love you after
    Forty-four years, as we renewed
    Our Love ever after, our eternity.

    Women asked to be honest
    Magnitudes of hosting nothing
    Trees Red rust, Yellow, did
    My mother beat me for nothing,
    Already upon trees, I live in Tree
    Leaf, In Treelef which doesn't
    Exist except in these three, four
    Computers, more in my heart, my
    Mind, this more is on October 17th--ten
    Yearrs doing Soto Zen still
    I couldn't be cleargy when I wasn't
    I asked Marjorie said "NO!"
    Thought as my body had become
    Weak, frail, computer skills gone,
    We could only live for each other,
    Daughter stays in touch almost
    Every day, Profeessor fluent in Jaapanese,
    Daughter studied Japanese Literature
    When she was Eighteen, she gave
    All to honesty, was proud of Dad
    How could she be so, love, I was Professor
    Eternally, only instructorshe may never marry,
    Two did not betray me, loved me, love me.

    With women asked
    So he says, she says,
    Women asked thy heart to host
    Ring the bell thrice, or just for
    Honesty once, sat thirty minutes
    Once, ring Bell what is it to learn?
    Who asked them, spit on duties vine in two
    Said thy love is my honesty, no wine
    My honesty, my forgiveness can I be
    Honesty, Marjorie said, "Perhaps,
    You were really not cut out to be clergy,
    My only stint as close to clergy
    Ubasoku, giving, support with
    Daughter, feriends, family,
    "Love one another, being, I am frail,
    Buddha is most like Christ, reality,,"
    I have found loving-kindness,
    Nature, said, Keats, said, "Poetry
    Must be as natural as leaves
    On the Trees," so I dwell in places
    That ever not--were that only exist
    Imaginary in space like Poety, like honesty.

    Gaassho
    lah/sat
    Gave to Tai Shi
    Last edited by Tai Shi; 08-30-2024, 03:22 PM.

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  • Guest
    Guest replied
    both
    before
    after
    one is all
    there comes a moment
    the moment
    sun breaks
    the ocean of our blue bodies
    fingers of desert & dawn
    bones of all that
    which came
    buried
    before in our
    brows
    shoulder of crow
    beak of hawk
    eagle claw
    we become the dying
    of the
    blistered sun
    decay
    of the atom
    within our abdomen
    crouched
    howling
    the tides
    surrendering to the
    moon
    monthly obsequence
    we bow politely
    to the stars
    our eyes uncovered for a brief moment


    Gassho
    Paco


    edit 8/29: sat/lah (I now understand what these mean )
    Last edited by Guest; 08-29-2024, 11:53 PM.

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  • Guest
    Guest replied
    Originally posted by Tai Shi
    Let me say I will not be late
    Put me Fot Ango,
    Jukai. Book you have
    That I will participate
    In Ango and Jukai
    And be specificaly
    In prepation for
    Prosperity and comittment
    Once again to every
    Cerimony, and sit
    With Kinkin if you
    Let me into Nithtly
    Fryday evry nightly
    Cerimony; then so like
    Jukai, Thank you
    Oh, my teacher Jundo

    Gassho
    sat/ lend a hand
    Tai Shi,
    You are very a talented poet and have such a treasury of poetry here. Thank you for commenting on my artwork and letting me know of this thread. I get overwhelmed at times with the amount of content here at Treeleaf, it's helpful to have suggestions on what to see.

    Gassho,
    Paco

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  • Tai Shi
    replied
    Find Jukai

    Let me say I will not be
    Dead For Ango,
    Jukai Books we have
    What we will participate
    In Reading for Jukai
    Be specificlly
    In preparation for
    Prosperity, comittment
    Once again to every
    Cerimony, every notion,
    Sit in no movement
    With Kinhin if you find,
    Let me into Nigtly
    Friday solenity,
    My cerimony; so
    I Thank you, thank thee
    Oh, teacher Jundo
    Let me understand
    What it is to be,
    To See, to Be,
    Understandingly, Reverrntly
    Free to witness or to see
    What it is more to me.
    Nothing to want our renounce
    Bigihtly to dream,
    Our Shame, what it is
    To becames us, what ours
    Made real life, in loyalty
    Precepts, Never kill,
    Never lie. Never sigh,
    Never in sexulity to defame
    We can not know in essence
    All that is true, all that is you
    We do is new this is happy
    What to do is silenced
    Always essence friendly
    Of Life, in reality.
    Our life always to know so to be.
    Of lastingly what it is
    To Be, knowingly
    Brotherhood ever to see
    Thot what it is today, to be friends
    Nothing more, just what is
    What can be, we know of eachother.
    Calm Poetry. What he cannot
    Understand knowingly.

    Gassho
    lah/ sat
    Tai Shi
    Last edited by Tai Shi; 09-02-2024, 03:46 PM.

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  • Tai Shi
    replied
    If I Have said,

    I know I Have

    That it would not
    Ban Ango without me,
    Let me up to do to sit
    I will be at both Ango,
    Jukai both such
    That I can make
    Anew, my new Rakusu
    If you will allow
    Me to see my way
    Though what I will not
    Check into Facebook
    I will more than review
    Lotus Sutra, more
    Than review Budhist
    History, sit each
    Morning, sit every Friday
    Nightly with all of you,
    Sit with nights, my friend
    Kyousui who saved me,
    Knowingly Kinhin
    How to spell every
    Word, you may
    See anyway, what
    We can make this book
    Alive and wide, my
    Book with Ango study
    As during everything
    Monsoon wantingly, not
    More ZaZenkai, more
    Friendship please, more
    Let me see fellowship
    With you not another
    Without this Lonely Ango, sit
    Study ours is sadly to be
    Twin; without another person?
    Alternatly wanting more
    Through Ango,
    Without you!
    Just for me.
    We are friends,
    Brotherly.
    Love, Twin
    Let us be.

    Gassho
    lah/sat
    Last edited by Tai Shi; 09-02-2024, 03:19 PM.

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  • Tai Shi
    replied
    I realized It's 10 years

    My Dharma Name

    It is actually 10 years
    Not eight years, 10
    On October 17th, 8
    On January 10, 2016,
    My first Jukai, These
    Are Celibrations, when
    10 chimes, years I will
    Be clearly studying Jukai,
    I would have been
    Lost in my anger, greed,
    Now never dulled, my gift
    Of Rakusu.

    Heartfelt comitment,
    This reality of all gifts, for
    It was in early December,
    My package arrrived
    From somewhere, in USA!
    My Rakusu was gifted me,
    However, my join date
    is October 17th, which
    resulted in the longest
    Undertaking in my entire life,
    Except grad school and marriage,
    One eleven years, the otther 42.
    Now Ubsoku, I am a Calm
    Poet, remembering my
    Dharma which I was Given
    To help me along this given
    Path, this peaceful path,
    Finally resulting in a given path,
    Thank you, Jundo! You
    Hit the mark. Zen, and
    Artistic Art of Archery!

    This is most important for
    Our child we raised. She
    Has become brilliant scholar
    Translator, and poet, so like
    My father, I gaver direction,
    While Marjorie gave her
    These brilliance of words
    Song, and Praise. She
    Is our ofspring as from
    The brow of Athena!
    Do you know we passed
    To her these hearts folded
    Into one, for on March 27th
    She will be thirty six,
    Summer befire, gave her
    My Sober life pulmanologist
    Says greatest gift I ever
    Gave to her, mother gave
    To both of us her loyaty
    And her heart.

    Gassho
    sat/ lend a hand
    Last edited by Tai Shi; 08-22-2024, 05:48 PM.

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  • Tai Shi
    replied
    I Have Joy Today

    I have found joy today
    Easy solomn, wistiful
    Morning, I say, isn't
    Reality never confidential.
    Somewhere in four vows,
    How do I have reality
    Fixed against North Star,
    Around which, without cold
    Exasperations, I forget
    Nothing, wander against,
    Midnight sun, against Big
    Bear, Looking for little
    Bear, I sing at one o' clock,
    In this morning of liberation.
    Isn't this specific, to write
    Poetry like playing
    The piano, beautiful
    Chords? Sing out
    Of four foot box, isn't some
    Reliance upon song more
    Important? I come to handle!
    I know I have found in strings
    Of words, singing out
    Of chords, Piano rings
    Beyond belief, my song

    These do not batter against
    Wars, wars, wars, to inhabit
    Another wrong, in memory
    I cry for six million Jews
    Put to death in chambers,
    These were not showers,
    But death disguised as hygene,
    How could I cry, how could
    I die without clothing
    Against morning star,
    Remembering our Buddha,

    With brightest Loving Kindness,
    We sing our song with backdrop
    Of Wisdom. Oh, Buddha sing
    To all of us, especily six
    Million separations placing
    Forth reality as Buddha song,
    Life cannot be promised each
    And every Jew, Gentile, Muslom,
    Infidel of Knowledge, Sangha
    Without wisdom, found beside
    Water wells, with water song
    Embittered, with stinging
    Knowledge every Jew struck down
    In freedom's liberation
    Among camps of freedom
    Let us finally sing Glory

    Of piano, lost chord, beauty
    Found in freedom let it ring
    Out opposite chords,
    Of desperration, battles won
    Slight of hand. Magician's hat
    Every soldier crying for each
    Jew, eighteen million, ninteen
    Million, World Ware one, Millions,
    Twenty-eight million. Never again
    Such sloughter of human kind
    All of history cannot ring out
    Glory, it is sorrow, it is

    Some embittered, song,
    Like bitter herbs at passover,
    We do not find first born
    From Angle of Death struck
    Down, it is Freedom to leave
    This battle, Death is not proud
    Finally lost Chourd
    Is found, naked in the sun
    Let go from each battle
    Of crossing, parted red sea.

    We shall all know Buddha's
    Freedom of Loving Kindnes
    Wisdom of Overt peace
    From each battle, red
    Flowing body's blood, raw
    Dried into crusted coat,
    Above this door. not paint,
    Blood of every soldier,

    Until Palistine is liberated
    From this horrror no,
    No more battles, let
    Freedom Ring
    As Kamalla Harris comes
    Along, another story
    Shall sing another lullaby,
    Pradises of pianos? Lost
    Chord, ls found, each battle
    Come to end, bodies, We
    Wonder of dead. Yet, it's time
    To sing. Sing summer Peace
    Summer soldier. Poetry,
    Prayer, Loving Kindness,
    Most Important sermon
    The Buddha ever gave.
    Peace, let Freedom ring.
    Peaceful poetry, as mine
    It's Time to rest, rest and sing.

    Gassho
    Deepest Bows
    sat/lend a hand.

    I weep for my own poetry,
    Let rissen be this story
    Of all humanity. Calm Poetry.
    Last edited by Tai Shi; 08-22-2024, 04:28 PM.

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  • Tai Shi
    replied
    Originally posted by Tai Shi
    We have all learned valuable lessons which could be turned into poetry. Look inside for your valuable lessons, there you will surely find gems of love and frustration, even hate which can be turned and dulled by the open heart of a poem, as one great man said, poetry is the overflow of strong feelings, (emotions) recolected in tranquility (or remembered in verse.). Try your hand twice, three times, You just might find a passion you could enjoy for life, and make poems in the silence of your heart, Open you feelings to the caves of solitude, be alone with your verses, in a journal, or a notebook. Give your soul to a path, to sorrow or joy, Poetry is negative caapability. Then you will be never really be alone again because thes gems will ever be mounted into psgse of glory.

    Gassho Tai Shi
    sat today/ lent a hand
    Dedicated to our new friend Pacco.

    Tai Shi
    Last edited by Tai Shi; 08-19-2024, 07:58 PM.

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