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Posts Tagged ‘365’

A Bumble Bee

A Bumble Bee

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Stairs Doors

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luminous buddhas

Luminous
Buddhas in the Grass

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radiant buddha sitting buddha

Radiant Buddha, Sitting Buddha
730 days in his hands
Sublime serenity in his heart
Joyful Buddha, Trudging Buddha
Day and night – vigilant
Always seeking good

One, one, one, one, one… one… one… one…

-moe219

On the occasion of two years

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send HELP

now does our world descend…

now does our world descend
the path to nothingness
(cruel now cancels kind;
friends turn to enemies)
therefore lament,my dream
and don a doer’s doom

create is now contrive;
imagined,merely know
(freedom:what makes a slave)
therefore,my life,lie down
and more by most endure
all that you never were

hide,poor dishonoured mind
who thought yourself so wise;
and much could understand
concerning no and yes:
if they’ve become the same
it’s time you unbecame

where climbing was and bright
is darkness and to fall
(now wrong’s the only right
since brave are cowards all)
therefore despair,my heart
and die into the dirt

but from this endless end
of briefer each our bliss–
where seeing eyes go blind
(where lips forget to kiss)
where everything’s nothing
–arise,my soul;and sing

by E. E. Cummings

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Grass-Meets-Road
To Lady Mori with Deepest Gratitude and Thanks

The tree was barren of leaves but you brought a new spring.
Long green sprouts, verdant flowers, fresh promise.
Mori, if I ever forget my profound gratitude to you,
Let me burn in hell forever.

From Wild Ways: Zen Poems of Ikkyu, translated by John Stevens. Published by Shambala in Boston, 1995.

(Mori was a blind minstrel, and Ikkyu’s young mistress)

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naked GIRL

62

This world has no marks, signs, or evidence of existence, nor the noises in it, like accident of wind or voices or heehawing animals, yet listen closely the eternal hush of silence goes on and on throughout all this, and has been gong on, and will go on and on. This is because the world is nothing but a dream and is just thought of and the everlasting eternity pays no attention to it. At night under the moon, or in a quiet room, hush now, the secret music of the Unborn goes on and on, beyond conception, awake beyond existence. Properly speaking, awake is not really awake because the golden eternity never went to sleep; you can tell by the constant sound of Silence which cuts through this world like a magic diamond through the trick of your not realizing that your mind caused the world.

The Scripture of the Golden Eternity
By Jack Kerouac

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