My death,
Who is it

Anyway,
An Eyeball speaks.

Old Pond.
A frog jumps in.
The sound of water.
Basho

Love is
     Wisdom.

                               Hatred is

                                                       Foolish.

Bertrand Russell

Reality is like two sides
Of a coin,
One side is all experience,
Sound, motion, time and drama.

The other side can only be
experienced in stillness, emptiness
And timelessness.

One side is physical, classical, painful
Newton, Einstein, Bohr and Dirac.

The other side is quantum, random...timeless.
Heisenberg, Feynman and Witten.

Nagarjuna and Candarkirti
The two truths
                          The two truths.

Samsara and Nirvana
Two sides of the same coin

Illusion and Enlightenment
Two sides of the same coin

Electricity and Magnetism
Two sides of the same coin

Matter and Energy
Two sides of the same coin

Personal and Impersonal
Two sides of the same coin

Mind and Body
Two sides of the same coin

Be still and watch,
This magical dream of duality
And illusion.

Never born and Never die
The two truths.

V(x)=24-(1-T2)2+1/8
= ?

Today I sit
writing a poem,

It's 11:40am I look
What have I done!
Another day...has flown by.

You lazy and selfish fool
Writing a poem...what a waste.

What do you hope to achieve
A non- doing of poetry.

What an ego!

So many things, and doings
So many obligations
                                  commitments
And goals.

You drown in activity
But who's the fool!
Time waits for no one.

But,

To die asleep
And...never...really examine
Life..activity...and time.

No. That's not me.

Happiness is found when you stop
Looking,
Our greatest happiness consists
In doing nothing whatever is calculated
to obtain happiness.

I cease striving for happiness
Right and wrong at once become apparent
All by themselves.

Practicing non-doing...you will have both happiness
And well-being.

Heaven does nothing...its non doing is its serenity.
Earth does nothing...its non doing is its rest

From this union of non-doings
All actions proceed,
All things are made.

How vast, how invisible
This coming-to-be!
All things come from nowhere
How vast, how invisible...

No way to explain it
All beings in their perfection
Are born of non-doing.

Hence it is said:
Heaven and earth do nothing
Yet there is nothing they do not do.

Where is the man and woman
Who can attain
To this non-doing?

Chuang Tzu

There are no fixed limits
Time does not stand still.
Nothing endures,
Nothing is final.

You cannot lay hold
Of the end or the beginning.
He who is wise sees near and far
As the same,
Does not despise the small
Or value the great:

Where all standards differ
How can you compare?

With one glance
He takes in past and present,
Without sorrow for the past
Or impatience with the present.
All is in movement.

He has experience
Of fullness and emptiness.
He does not rejoice in success
Or lament in failure
The game is never over
Birth and death are even

The terms are not final.

Written by Chuang Tzu (550-250 B.C.)

Like a fool, like a dunce,
Body and mind completely dropped off!

Zen Master Ryokan

Truly, I love this life of seclusion.
Carrying my staff, I walk toward a friend's cottage.
The trees in his garden, soaked by the evening rain,
Reflect the cool, clear autumnal sky.

The owner's dog comes to greet me;
Chrysanthemums bloom along the fence.
These people have the same spirit as the ancients;
An earthen wall marks their separation from the world.

In the house volumes of poetry are piled on the floor.
Abondoning wordliness, I often come to this tranquil place.

The spirit here is the spirit of Zen.

Zen Master Ryokan

Once again, many greedy people appear
No different from silkworms wrapped in cocoons.

Wealth and riches are all they love,
Never giving their minds or bodies a moment's rest.

Every year their natures deteriorate
While their vanity increases.

One morning death comes before
They can use even half their money.

Others happily receive the estate,
And the deceased's name is soon lost in darkness.

For such people there can only be great pity.

Zen Master Ryokan

My hut lies in the middle of a dense forest;
Every year the green ivy grows longer.
No news of the affairs of men,
Only the occasional song of a woodcutter.

The sun shines and I mend my robe;
When the moon comes out I read Buddhist poems.

I have nothing to report, my friends.
If you want to find the meaning, stop chasing after so many things.

Zen Master Ryokan

The rain has stopped, the clouds have drifted away, and the weather is clear again.

If your heart is pure, then all things in your world are pure.

Abandon this fleeting world, abandon yourself, then the moon and flowers will guide you along the Way.

Zen Master Ryokan (1758-1831)

Our love was like a wild canyon
flowing with forever.
She left me!

The woman of my dreams
Escaping to the deep end of a bottle

I awoke one day
To a warm, moist, furry
Cat.

Snuggled against my face
This is my real love.

The undeveloped human strives after the finite for the sake of his own profit.

The thinker strives after the infinite for the sake of his freedom.

The Knowing One returns to the finite for the sake of his infinite love."

Written by Lama Govinda (1977)

One instant is eternity;
Eternity is the now.
When you see through this one instant, you see through the one who sees.

One instant is eternity
By Wu Men (Hui-K'ai)
(1183-1260)

If the bar-girl does not falter,
The beer will flow on and on.
This maiden is my refuge
And this place my haven.

Written by the 6th Dalai Lama (1683-1706)

Who Says my poems are poems?
My poems are not poems.
After you know my poems are not poems,
Then we can begin to discuss poetry!

Written by the great Zen Master Ryokan

Wordless Heart Sutra

No meaning,
Words. An ape grasps for meaning.

A spider in a web of
desire, greed and emptiness.

Words useless words,
Empty contracts.

Words, poetry *******. A fake drunkard
masking as Picasso.
Words, cackling meaningless
words.

Blah, Blah, Blah.
Fingers pointing at the
moon...Words.

Rising...waves of feeling...
music, painting...sculpture,
Rapture.

Erupt...wordless...free...empty
g­olden noble silence.

The truth..no one hears...
But silence.

An atom in the universe,
matter with curiosity.

Void in form
When, just as they are,
White dewdrops gather
On scarlet maple leaves
Regard the scarlet beads!

Form in Void
The tree is stripped,
All Colour, fragrance gone,
Yet already on the bough,
Uncaring spring.

Ikkyu laughs!

A love note to Ikkyu

my death? Who was it anyway
always where he was
never no
not once ever
seeing himself an eyeball speaks.

This is one of my favorite poems written by the Zen Master Ikkyu Sojun

A warm fluid envelopes
       A beautiful dark...empty...calm.

Bursting...pain of light.
                         pain of sound...
Pain excruciating pain!

suddenly, a fog like mist,
of:
no pain..
                clarity...
                       sweet wonder.

Smelly forms of light and dark.

Who am I...
No name
              no memory...no mind.

A body...becomes an I.