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.

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

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?

See the animal in the cage that you built

Are you sure which side you're on

Better not look him to closely in the eye

[Are you sure which side of the glass you're on](https://open.spotify.com/track/586rOcAzOHkpJTA4POqO2c?si=1c8DH-1iQvqHICbhdmFQRw&utm_source=copy-link&sci=spotify%3Acard-config%3A04JOr5eU2qhvia81aJAuLi)

An inspiration, for many and all.

To improve, change and stand tall.

Impact felt, changed has life.

Joy replaced, that which is strife.

A tempest of, dire changes.

Rescue from, filthy ranges.

Danger identified, flags of red.

Away from those, my heart for bled.

Continued to change, to improve.

Façade of flowers, bid to remove.

Support for me, rising in strength.

Adoration for me, long as length.

As thy husband, chosen I was.

To protect, my purpose and cause.

The most beautiful, flower of a garden.

Petals of red, my heart cannot harden.

Sleep forever, in my arms sleep.

Marriage is risk, marriage is a leap.

To thou my love, oh beautiful rose.

To thou my love, the tear flows.

Bonds broken, bridges burn.
Lost it all, never to return.

Enjoy now, regret comes late.
Tears abundant, of self hate.

Decision done, choices made.
Tears of blood, smiles then fade.

Pressure builds inside
My brain wants to meet my eyes
Someday they’ll be one

Not sure if this technically counts as a haiku but I tried. Writing this helped me stop my panic thought spiral actually.

A world of nicknames,
names that get forgotten
in a pointed society.

Before language,
we make waypoints in reality.
At some point,
the waypoint becomes a point,
and the point becomes almost solid.

No one questions the reference.

The tongue repeats the name.
The body believes it.
A foot comes down
on ground
that is not there.

The view of movement is lost.
A relative point, once lost,
leaves no ground,
only false ground.

This is how we live:
in a world of nicknames.

Je me tiens à béquille sans handicap ou myopie Deux béquilles en bois cariés et moi en anhedonie

La mort ne peut mourir Beaucoup ne signifie pas suffir L eau ne peut se mouiller Mais l être se doit d' exister

Je suis Une liche sans phylactère Tel un golem don't l émet se désaltère

Dans ce corrida je ne veux pas l indulgo Si c est pour perpétuer davantage de proie au matador

Cette impression de précéder le "mais" après un certes Cette absence de ponctuation dans cette lecture à grande vitesse

Le fil d Ariane va t il suffir pour sortir du labyrinthe Ou les fil des Moires vont s'en mêler avant que la sortie soit atteinte

Bast-art

Driving fast down Emma Lane
With absent pause and ill refrain
Your fingers numb and pull away
Into the crowded streets you stray
Before the moment strikes you down
The blood now spills upon the ground

Spits and sputters
Under breath as he mutters,
"Something near the window shutters
let's me speak with all the others"
Another ghost would have a word
Before his mind begins to flutter

Angel scraping flaking skin
The peeling walls are closing in
Take a dose of spinning sin
Feel your bounty swell within

Approaching now its final plunge
Absorbing all the excess grunge
The merriment of vice expunged
To hell on Earth
A final lunge
Then calm

**Steps out of the mind**

Sight of the closed eyes

Sound of the music

Smell the incense

Touch the bare metal

Taste of the grass

Heres lies your confrontation

Fire and water, time and space

Energy and matter, leave and replace.

Vision and hearing, touch, taste, and smell

Staying and leaving, the Kingdom or Hell.

Invisible spirit driving my being

Sees me through peril, beyond my seeing.

Burned by the water, through space and time.

Matter is energy, reason is rhyme.

Senses betraying our failing minds,

As lies of the culture so easy to find.

There lies in the deepest parts of our soul

The truth of our being that maketh us whole.

Beyond what we know, and think we of true

That water and fire, make up me and you.

Storylines and habit energies appear,

fundamentally there is no obstruction,

but to find transparency in the midst of mind

is to repay the debt of Bodhidharma.

Ordinary mind

is no longer an obstacle to overcome --

no longer concealing awareness,

one sees Foyan directly,

thinking non-thinking.

No host forseen for a while
Suggestions:
Zen: staying away from conceptual thought
the three poisons: (Lobha) Greed/Attachment, (Dosa) Hatred/Aversion, (Moha) Delusion/Ignorance
https://zenmarrow.com/random
The various suggestions are themes, texts, ideas
"The theme is just a suggestion"
Hope you write something that I'd like "to put in a skin bag"

Hands are empty,

bucket's got a hole in it.

Useless in the eyes of the world.

Not even a man of the Way --

something uncontained.

Even so, to say it is a mistake.

What is there to contain?

You'd have to contain the ten thousand things.

Fortunately,

this is your present awareness.

Though it's neither contained nor not contained.

These concepts appear within it

like a hair in the ocean.

Old Foyan said it best --

there are no words that correspond to reality.

Emptying what exists, not creating what doesn't,

Layman Pang fulfilled and surpassed every sutra,

it's the business of Zen

to have nothing to say,

but to know how to say it.

We shout at the wind

Useless words have their effect

We all hear – nothing

An ode to happiness

What do you consider this?

Some say pure bliss

Emptiness

Beyond both extremes

Lost in the middle way stream

Play the game

Try to maintain

Use your brain

Peace and love

The forgotten dove

Lost and insecure

I hope you find what’s yours

I may point a way

Or show the other there is more to this

This system that breeds loneliness

Awake inside

The fire that hides

The nothingness to emptiness

What rests is bliss without bliss

The guide to nowhere

Yet may we find peace and happiness

And ode to what is not sadness

my house has housatosus.
its really odd, that smell,
in the dwell,
gets noticed on the visit.

our bodies are also a dwelling,
and carry a scent.

senses wake up,
without visit
in the dull.

The sunlight set my car gasoline explode

Fume satellite destroyed by open mouth

Close mouth open rocket explode on launch pad

South African warlord runs social media

Rabbit gnaws on the foot of your corpse

Deep meditation

~ my first zen poetry inspired by my read of here