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

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  • Layzie
    replied
    How Innumerable Is It?


    This life is no different
    than the hundreds
    of dew drops hanging
    from the pine trees.

    Each drop of water
    reflecting an entire world,
    and in those worlds,
    even more innumerable dew drops.
    Yet all are empty.
    Fading away without notice
    as the day goes on.

    Where does this dew drop hang,
    I wonder?

    Gassho
    Last edited by Layzie; 04-27-2025, 09:00 PM.

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  • Hokai
    replied
    In my shed
    I sit
    And know I am alive

    Gassho
    Hōkai
    IMG_2892.jpg

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  • Layzie
    replied
    A Morning Talk With A Bird

    Saying hello, every morning,
    to the cardinal
    nesting in the tree
    across from my balcony,

    I wonder,

    All my talk of impermanence,
    and practice of non-attachment,
    yet how will I feel
    when it is gone?

    "I love it as if
    it were myself" I say.

    and if there is no self?

    no bird?

    Even so, I still believe
    that love and compassion
    are at the foundations
    of this existence.

    "I love it simply
    because it is there
    to love." I say.

    Gassho

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  • Layzie
    replied
    In The Middle of A Hard Day's Work.

    Distracted by the weather
    and nature's beauty,
    I sit under a shady tree.

    The lost one-eyed finch drinks
    from the hanging water bowl.
    It grows old; and on.

    Surely this place
    holds the spirit
    of Kannon.

    Gassho
    Last edited by Layzie; 04-15-2025, 09:26 PM.

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  • Layzie
    replied
    After These Days of Rain

    Not a single cloud in the sky.
    Trees take their time
    swaying from side to side.
    A bluejay cries
    across the open hill.

    Tired winds make no noise.

    I feel myself slowly melting.
    Fading into the breeze.
    Where do I begin?
    Where do I end?

    Viewing the great mystery
    through the eyes
    of every living thing,
    and experiencing the vast emptiness.

    Gassho

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  • Layzie
    replied
    Nothing Reflects Nothing

    It is pointless to try to see
    your reflection in agitated waters.
    Only still water can give
    an accurate image
    of what is above it.

    In the same manner,
    only stillness of the mind,
    and stillness of the body,
    can reflect one's true nature.

    What remains
    when my body and mind
    are left behind?
    Three small yellow flowers
    standing in my altar vase.

    Gassho

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  • Onkai
    replied
    Originally posted by Layzie
    A Wu Wei Play With Words

    People say nothing is impossible,
    but I do nothing all day,
    and I am full.

    Gassho


    Gassho Onkai

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  • Layzie
    replied
    A Little Wu Wei Word Play

    People say nothing is impossible,
    but I do nothing all day,
    and I am full.

    Gassho
    Last edited by Layzie; 04-12-2025, 11:27 PM.

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  • Layzie
    replied
    A Night or Two to Ryaku Fusatsu

    Large clouds form a bear's claw
    as they strike across the sky.
    Revealing a luminous waxing moon.
    As if it were a gift,
    only for me to see,
    on this lonely night.


    How lucky I am
    to be able to catch a glimpse
    of it's beauty,
    before it's swept away
    in the rolling storm clouds.


    Rain begins to fall.
    Palms open, I do not worry.
    Calmly walking back inside,
    I light incense
    and read poems
    from ancient masters.

    Gassho
    Last edited by Layzie; 04-11-2025, 10:30 PM.

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  • Layzie
    replied
    A Sudden Spring Storm

    Blanketing rain across the leaves,
    and powerful, pulsing winds
    against my window.

    Struggling to sit in meditation,
    I worry about them all.
    The nests in the cedar.
    The squirrels in the pines.
    The pregnant cat who's beginning
    to think I'm all right.

    What can I do, but continue to sit?

    When the storm let's up,
    and only a pleasant drizzle remains
    I rise from the cushion
    to see a patch of sun through the clouds.

    The birds in their trees, wet and puffy.
    The cat poking out from the barn,
    and the first hummingbird
    of the new season.

    Gassho
    Last edited by Layzie; 04-10-2025, 11:00 PM.

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  • WhiteLotus
    replied
    I was encouraged to post a poem I wrote:

    White Lotus

    Weaving spider can't enter here.
    Nothing's said so you can hear.
    Weaving spider can't enter here.
    Return to you with all your fear.

    On the pond of clear reflection.
    Beyond the void without detection.
    Sits a flower of pure perfection.
    Blossoms found every direction.

    In the mirror made of mind.
    There's no forward or behind.
    The only peace there you'll find.
    Is it's all made of pure mind.

    On the mirror of bright reflection.
    There's nothing more than connection.
    Nothing to gain in any direction.
    Nothing to lose is pure perfection.

    In the mirror made of mind.
    There's no forward or behind.
    The only peace there you'll find.
    Is it's all made of pure mind.

    Here is a link to a song I made out of it: White Lotus
    Thank you for reading and much love!
    Salem
    SatLah

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  • Layzie
    replied
    A Little Lesson

    Sweeping my front porch.
    Single minded.
    Present.
    Here, and now.


    One final push
    of the broom.
    A sigh of relief.


    Turning around
    only to feel
    a sudden gust of wind,
    and my porch is covered
    with leaves once again.


    All I can do is chuckle,
    and enjoy the sunbeams
    through the trees.

    Gassho

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  • Layzie
    replied
    A Spring Morning Reflection

    I've come back home.
    To Spring in the Carolinas.
    Naturally,
    most of my time
    has been devoted to my garden.

    A hidden sanctuary
    of wild flowers, azalea bushes,
    and blossoming cherry trees.
    But honey suckle vine
    has now invaded my homestead.

    Even with all of it's own beauty,
    it has begun to choke the life
    from the fellow foliage.

    As I spend day after day
    pulling and twisting these vines
    from my dear old friends,
    how can I not be reminded of,
    and liken it to my own
    practice of zazen?

    Clearing away the brush.
    Throwing away delusions.
    To see what is truly there.

    Gassho

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  • Tai Shi
    replied
    I Sit Quietly On A Tuesday Morning

    Snow, cold, cold
    swoons to Earth,
    Dimly Light and Wind
    Mix into swath, pathways
    Of ice grinder of my heart
    Forgive my fear, my dim
    Resolved mind filled
    With my soul of excuses
    Wishing for more
    More than wind, puff
    Of air and water this
    Is snow, white, not blue
    Blue white blue yellow
    Smudge of land beneath
    Breath of fresh air cold, cold.
    Above possible sea of ice.

    Gassho
    lah/sat today
    Last edited by Tai Shi; 04-01-2025, 01:19 PM.

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  • Tai Shi
    replied
    Profuse Reality

    When I look back to Junio,
    I think I know not this name
    This man. There are so many
    I do not know of 3000 members

    Where are they, I do not know,
    Maybe 250
    I have met in passing for These
    I know only in passing
    New Hampshire, happiness
    Withstanding, why do I know?
    Reality calls, to know
    Reality's bow shooting arrow
    Into sky missing its mark reality
    Narrow we think we know

    We do not know now gone
    Now present hiding mirror
    Of creation, bird song
    Sing beautiful, bird reality
    Singing screeching scintillating
    Like sugar pouring into bowl
    Spiced cinnamon reality song
    Of bird, I bathe myself
    Into pure song reality of bird,

    Eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit
    Reality, I begin to bathe myself
    Into Reality, into buttermilk
    Butter taken from milk,
    This cultures what is left,
    Jinko what is a name in reality
    Bird call, I sing, I sink, I sing,
    I rise to sing to perfuse reality.

    Gassho
    lah/sat today
    Last edited by Tai Shi; 03-28-2025, 12:02 PM.

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