These are mostly free formed, three line poems.
The passed-on Buddha spirit
occupies as much space
as you leave empty for it
– The Transmission of Light
The shadow puppets
are fond of light
or so we tell ourselves
– On projecting ourselves on the inanimate
She sits in a hot spring
my flame
in my wax
Something must be sacrificed
in pursuit of creation
The mutual becomes the spiritual
– On letting go
To engage in the process
requires sacrifice
of parasite or self
– On liberation
Autumn strips away the bullshit
Human spirit
here I come
– On fall
The monk who lives out there
isn’t out there
He’s in here
– The traveling monk
Impossible mountains
have a cave complex through them
Koans through zen
– Entangling Vines
The bellows of the holy fire
are your lungs
White hot iron melter
– The strangely designed human
Burnt by the cold
will heat warm me
or burn me too?
– Winter’s isolation
For a moment I forgot
that I’m not really me
I forgot about all of you
– On the ego of self importance.
How old is that water
that you’re drinking, cat?
how old is the air?
I’m looking for something
I don’t know what it is
I’m just out there looking
– Just looking
I’m out there feeling for something
I don’t know what it is
I’m just out there feeling
– Out there
God of the garden and irony
Spirit of change
Non-dual thinking
– The pantheon
Hemingway’s Paris
The godess, not the city
is a moveable feast
– On lust
If you are a human
then why do you use
robot language?
Who organized all those sand dollars
on the beach?
They organized everything
all
by
themselves
The wind that blows isn’t wind
but fills my lungs with air
The rain that falls isn’t rain
but fills my mouth with water
The sun that shines isn’t sun
but fills my cheeks with colour
Goodbye sun
Hello souls
Hello sun
– On night and day
The tongue a hook
on bated breath
Don’t bite
Summer leaves me tired
and longing
for autumn
– On summer activities
Autumn leave me tired
and longing
for spring
– On autumn’s transitions
Fate is a dragon
try to pull it toward you
or push it away
– A deterministic universe
Sat here in madness
A bird on wind’s wing
dropping into it and angling back up
– Wind’s wing
An artist moves toward the uncreated
We follow her experiencing her vision
and understand reality through her creation
– On knowing and understanding