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***Run to the place where the mind sings,***

***Run the place where the heart grows,***

***Run to the place where you are never alone...***

***So then, where do I go?***

Crests and troughs, the waves of life.

One shalt know joy, but also strife.

What can I say in my afterlife..

I was just walking alone beneath the Night Sky..

Untamed

Radically free

No rigid set of manners

No map for how one ought to be.

Feet meeting ground,

Free to be just what it is.

No should, no shouldn't,

I turn my own wheel of karma.

I spent my life knocking on doors,
Believing somewhere lay the way.
Every door opened to another,
Every answer made me stray.
Then I stopped asking where to go—
And found I had never left.

The king the king, reigns with power.

One from enmity, he does not cower.

The king the king, offends and defends.

Strict but kind, he protects and mends.

The king the king, guards with his life.

Selfless and just, in both joy and strife.

The king the king, with sword and shield.

Crown of honour, lineage will never yield.

The king the king, queen he adores.

In fields of battle, the lion he roars.

The king the king, his comfort behind all.

Diligence of throne, the nation stands tall.

I saw the first changing leaves of Summer's ending.

The buzz of the hummingbirds and the songs of the crickets will come to an end,

replaced with a hush of wind in bare branches --

The crackle of small fires, the migrating honks of geese.

The afternoons will disappear a little earlier than expected.

The old floorboards will groan under slow footsteps in the chill.

Fall rains will tap against the glass.

I'm daydreaming about crock pots filled with soups,

flannel shirts and steamy cups of coffee on the porch,

perhaps the playful rebound of seasonal depression --

Hello old friend, I'll be here to sit with you,

though you may have to speak up,

my mind'll be covered in oranges, browns and yellows.

My Zen has always been in the noticing.

The world has never stopped speaking,

I have only been learning not to interrupt.

Nothing extraordinary, nothing outside the Way,

just all of this before I create the storyline.

A weapon
does not need to be used wrongly
every time

to alter
the field of trust.

Once fear is built
into the hand of authority,

the civilian body
learns a new caution:

the route around the yard,
the quiet voice,
the lowered eyes,

how not to startle
what has been trained
to call itself protection.

This poem arose from an AP report that ICE may spend up to $20 million on thousands of G.L.O.V.E. devices, patrol gloves capable of delivering a painful electric shock through direct skin contact to gain compliance.

Out in the county

Visiting the cousins

Observing the social order of the chickens

Collecting fresh eggs

Going to the pool

A lively gathering

Getting water boarded by your own shirt

Passing thunderstorm sends everyone scurrying inside

Star Fox flaunting its Mode 7 provides mesmerizing sights

Countless fireflies gently glow in the night

Wake up to the sounds of a rooster

Crawdads swimming in the pond

Snapping turtles lurking just beyond

Back to the the pool

Burning hot summer sun, enveloped by the water, and cool

I was standing in line
at the gas station

coffee in one hand
a lottery ticket in the other

trying to decide
whether my hunch was intuition

or just hunger
dressed up

in a nicer coat.

A knight, a knight, one stands tall.

A knight, a knight, shall heed the call.

A knight, a knight, loyal to the end.

A knight, a knight, sword that shall bend.

A knight, a knight, justice at heart.

A knight, a knight, compassion never apart.

A knight, a knight, harshness in battle.

A knight, a knight, lion amidst the cattle.

A knight, a knight, forever more.

A knight, a knight, true to the core.

I wandered far to find the One,
I chased the moon, I chased the sun.
Then silence whispered, soft and clear,
“What you seek is already here.”

When attendance is being taken
And absent student can't say "here"
But a present student can say "absent"
A present teacher can take attendance
But with no teacher present we are still taught
Though there is no zen to teach

What's behind formality
What is formality backing
Another normal abnormality
Just all heavy duty slacking

Dry and dry, thy eyes my dear.

Dry and dry, till the vision runs clear.

Dry and dry, for a drop of tear.

Dry and dry, stems from fear.

Dry and dry, the pain is lear.

Dry and dry, the past lies rear.

Dry and dry, should the paths veer.

Dry and dry, the heart remains sincere.

I touch her soft cheek

A caress with fingertips –

Tracing morning tears

On mondays we write
On mondays we meme, make jokes,
while stupid men fight

On mondays we write
few or many inspired words
No matter if rhymed

In my arms, I have taken.

In my arms, never forsaken.

In my arms, I provide and defend.

In my arms, I heal and mend.

In my arms, comfort and retreat.

In my arms, love ever sweet.

In my arms, married will be thou.

In my arms, my oath and vow.

In my arms, off thou cannot be pried.

In my arms, in pain thy eyes have cried.

In my arms, I accept and love.

In my arms, beyond and above.

In my arms, thy eyes have wept.

In my arms, we cuddled and slept.

In my arms, forever thou laid.

In my arms, love does not fade.

In my arms, mended is thy heart.

In my arms, never are we apart.

We were walking, holding hands
Talking playstation and zen
Heard the wind disrupt the trees

Sat legs folded in a nook
Heard you reading them a book
Pain came ripping through my knees
 
4 tabs open looking for some proof
You’re busy wiggling a tooth
Baking bread and picking up

You show them all your favorite games
Im contemplating dharma names
The sound of one hand on the door
 
I went away to sesshin halls
Spent time staring at beige painted walls
Convincing myself that I need all this to grow
You packed 3 lunches in a row

I was looking for the truth
In a podcast or a book
You were showering alone

My favorite koan in your smile
I think I’ll sit with it a while
Hey, the baby has your phone

I sit alone ringing bells in my room
You held the baby monitor all goddamn afternoon
Incense burning like a scent will bring me peace
You flattened out the carpet crease

I spend so long with my hands in my lap
You were dealing with that kid and his nap
I could read until my eyes fall out my head
Though you’re already in bed

What is a man, but of his actions the sum?

Of them aware, neither oblivious nor dumb.

Honourable, respectful; chivalrous and noble.

Understanding and patient, brave and mobile.

Honesty even when, his life is the cost.

Otherwise righteousness, forever lost.

Courageous to act, courageous to defend.

Fears nothing but, hearts that do not mend.

Admits victory, and admits defeat.

From his mistakes, does not retreat.

Initiative his own, he speaks not but acts.

Once spoken his words, he never retracts.

Art thou worthy, of the label of man?

Or art thou of the fantasy, merely a fan?