Monthly Archives: July 2015

RCR – Begin Where You Are

Finding a place to begin amongst all the previous words, this is hard, for who now needs more words? But the answer, as always, is to hand. It is this world itself, as it lives and breathes, that is of … Continue reading

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The Quicksilver Flash

The quicksilver flash By chasing it down We kill it. Mercurial Hermes Word-winged youth Yet sterile. The different schools The various houses Mind or no-mind? In ancient times Masters and Patriarchs No teaching. Modern teaching Has no masters Naturally. The … Continue reading

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The Strong Sun

The strong sun Hides Dark clouds and wind. The tree moves in the wind Above a raven Below the first mushrooms. There is no watching There is no hearing Everything is seen and heard. It doesn’t stop This ever engine … Continue reading

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Just This

Just this As it is See how it shines. The teaching of the zen school? Shouting and hitting! Just that. How many years of study? Seeing is this moment Always ever now. Easy yes Difficult also But only if you … Continue reading

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Black Woodpecker

Black woodpecker Snatches at air In shrilling flight. Today a seat of clay and stone Makes soft My growing home. Acanthus Deep shaded green Dark forest. Light falls from the air Precipitate Of dreams. When the wind dies All the … Continue reading

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Project Update

To those who take time to read the posts on this blog, I want to express my thanks. As some of you may know I have settled a clearing in the crook between the South and North Eastern ridges of … Continue reading

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What would you like to know?

What would you like to know? It’s all laid out Transparent. The sea shines Beneath a dark sky Closer. The louring sky Lower Still. It is easy to believe In the deepest philosophy If we can just forget the world. … Continue reading

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So Very Cold

So very cold The wind Days fly by. Watching the clock Losing time It’s inevitable. The gnarled bark Fallen tree Unfastened. The silence of the birds Fills the forest Complete. Gravity Pulling decades down In folding flesh. The Siren’s voice … Continue reading

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Headache

Headache Too much coffee Better than sober. The question No answer And yet the oak trees. Ochre walls Ochre floor Man of clay. Distrust the senses Appearances What then is left? This flower No different Just as it is. My … Continue reading

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The Smallest Things

Always In the end These poems. Blue sky Green leaves Red clay soil I wanted to It was impossible So I didn’t But now I wish I had. Spun struck Shatterings Words litter the ground. There is always more To … Continue reading

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