Zen Chaos Writing 

Numbers and Lists I find myself Trying to forget the numbers Even as the umbrella shelters Four noble truths Three marks of existence Five disassembled aggregates Three poisons and five fences Ten perfections and four sublime states Twelve fetters and equal consequences And at least five suggested commitments Under the eight steps we choose to walk— I find myself Trying to forget the numbers As it goes beyond numbers That suffering is life’s inevitability Caused by thirst and

Luminosity On the edge of a field There remains a smattering of old gourds, Not quite yet shriveled, But past their sell-by date Set out to be taken by nature— And on the edge of my mind There remains a scattering of past thoughts, Not quite yet withered But past their use value Ready to be replaced by Infinite luminosity Raining down From an expansive sky. Eightfold: Zen Poetry for Blindly Clasping Beings is a collection of sixty poems that reflect the author’s continual con

I have yet to find my sangha, And yet, Intermittently, Between my cynicism and doubt, I sometimes still find Unexpected diamonds Along muddy roads Bearing overflowing cups Of calming tea.

Meeting We meet each other Wearing coats of practical invisibility To the souls beyond our shells— Mere glimpses Of that collection of aggregates That forge our personhood Blind to who we are And who we might be We grow to see the other To both share And find Discontinuity To love Until we find the edges Of our borders To learn Where crossover And impassivity Exist To experience The connections That foster closing distances Between ourselves And the limits to our linkages Bur

May all sentient beings remember When standing waist deep in muddy water That we still have all that is requisite and sufficient For deliverance.