by
brucejewett
Categories: Buddhism SGI, haiku, Nichiren, PhilosophyTags: Hawkes, Nichiren, quote
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Art by Linda S. Hawkes, quote from Nichiren
Category: Philosophy
653
That which does
not kill you
will turn around
and try again.
549
she sits yoga style
eyes closed– a boy tip-toes up
“Ommms” into her ear
ε εε
442
puff of down drifting
on voices of those chanting,
prayer uplifting
424
buddha lives in my
mirror– not in a garden
— not in a temple
414/ tanka
maybe after all
there’s God, Angels, gold slippers
my church goer friends
catcalling downwards to me
see, told you so, told you so
407
moon of blood, some say
how one is, is how one sees
blushing Georgia peach
391
sutra of lotus
flowering in the mire
galaxies bow down
347
our stars are going dark
find another universe
with coffee and cats
Bullfrog 4/26/15
eyes shut to beauty
in a sea of bright lotus
bullfrog sings the blues
Young Son
Like a monkey off he runs
When the mother calls him
To chant for two minutes.
He leaps away, his karma
In hot pursuit to reveal
Bodhisattva Unsurpassed
Ripening within him.
Feline Haiku
Oh, my lucky cats!
Chasing only moths and string,
Not job interviews.
Nichiren’s
That lily remains,
Embraced by muddied shallows;
All else washed away.
Close Relations
The universe is a lot like
An uncle or aunt bringing
Gifts and mussing up your hair
Marveling at your growth
Till you get lazy and ignore
Presents while in deep envy
Of what other kids got.
Then says the Big U,
As the goodies vanish,
“If you don’t value me
Why should I value you?”
Sutra
All around and flowing within us
The heartβs blood of waking buddhas
Who open their eyes laughing
Having dreamt we are glasses of water
Deep in wondrous, rhythmic seas.
Evening Prayer Haiku
Evening prayer
Cat kneels on my lap, solemnly
Bows to the altar.
Waking us eon after eon,
Wheels of manifestation
Send us to create value
And to value creation.
Hitcher
HITCHER
Finally, a Pontiac stops in front of the Gonzales exit sign and picks me up. And wait till he finds out who he picked up late at night… Gonzales is a cement factory, a water tower with a small cluster of houses. It is populated by generations of hitch hikers who could never get a ride. Ever.
The driver is fiftyish, had a few more beers than was wise, headed for Santa Monica. Didn’t bother to ask how far I was going. Just helping out his fellow human being, my perfect target.
A little ways along I reach into my back pack and pull out a boom box and hit the music. In a fanfare of trumpets a big booming voice announces: “CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE PICKED UP THE LUCKY HITCH HIKER!”
I heave an armload of confetti and one thousand dollars in small bills into the air and give the driver a hug. Invariably they pull off the road and stop at this point. I crank off a couple of snapshots, leave the car, and start walking.
What’s life if you cannot give as well as take chances?
Multiverse Theory
If there are alternative universes
Aztecs and Incas conquered Europe
Ann Frank interviews comedian Adolph
California secedes from the Union
Nigerian email offers are true
Everyone has shelter, food, and cats
There’s a me kinder, more consistent
And a you who still sleeps with me,
Smoothing the edges of Existence.
SAINT SEBASTIAN
My three dimensional cat
Chases the odd glimmer on the wall
Slams himself against a bit of light
And meows for it to surrender.
And isn’t this like our quest
Of Truth, of God, of love;
A bad marriage of physicality
With fickle insubstantiality.
Cat Nap Revue 