Tuesday, December 30, 2008

December poems

rainy morning
mushrooms walking on
the bridge
Matin de pluie
des champignons marchent
sur le pont
with love
the barber carves
my ear
Avec amour
le barbier sculpte
mon oreille
Maze of wires
and shabby houses
our kingdom
Labyrinthe de fils electriques
et de maisons miteuses
notre royaume

Sunday, December 14, 2008

For Sodo san the beggar

For Sodo Yokoyama




you sat in this Kyoto park

noisy kids playing

not too far

young lovers


holdings hands


no matter what

and why

nor minding neither wishing


thin blue lips



music and simple tunes


from tree to tree

ear to ear




no traces left

any hope gone

gone beyong the beyond

beyond realization and delusion

self and others

East and West



sitting Zen

in rags

begging the sky and chewing a mouthful of clouds

green tea was nice too

in the company of a visitor

no matter what

and why






Saturday, December 13, 2008

Poem for old sitters

An old man used to live on the mountain-top
with a few clouds as companions.
Last night, rain and wind blew them away
In the end, how can clouds be mistaken for him?
Poem and calligraphy from Eihei Goyu, Eiheiji abbot of Meiji era

Wednesday, December 03, 2008

remembering Niwa

This is a picture of Niwa Zenji, abbot of Eiheiji who died a few years ago. He happens to be in my lineage, in the blood line of the transmission. I always felt a deep connection with this old teacher, very humble and soft, and I vividly remember when he came to the West. Little did i know at the time that I would be one of his great grand sons one day.

Like a laughing and beaming cat
Eternal rambling of the brook
the cow enters the stream
your eyebrows like brushes
and teeth and tongue
gulping deep blue sky
dolls you playing with
at five or six years of age
dressing them endlessly
your shaved head under the sharp blade
the incense cloud and fragrant pine
the loud voice of the valley
shaking the rocks
rocking the silent moon
not making sense of anything
loosing track, wiping footprints
how can one walk the rain
what is the faith of trees, bees, birds?
Not answering
bleeding laughters
merely gazing
with gentleness
you ascend the Eiheiji seat
and bow at dogs in secret
my blood in yours
and yours in mine
as this all world
seal in space
not even a ripple
or stir
or chatter
or whisper
the seal where two moons
and turn into
each other
like a rambling and beaming cat
eternal laughing of the brook