Time and Timelessness

Urban living;

Its 7 AM

Its 9 AM

Its 1 PM

Its 5 PM

Its 7 PM

Its 9 PM

Its 11 PM

Rural living;

Sunrising

Sunsetting

Dusking

Moonrising

Moonsetting

Dawning

Inconstancy

Pulling out
Implosion-like force
Out of the eye
        Dying into birth

Pulling in
Explosion-like force
Into the eye
        Birth into dying

Mindness

Like a wind it blows
Through blood'n'bones
Seeping into lungs
On the breathing sails

No matter where it is
Looking at the same moon
A cancer-like nature
Parasitic thoughts

The Thinker

"I will stop thinking!" -
the thinker is thinking.

The Point of Zazen

Realisation, neither general nor particular,
is effort without desire.
Clear water all the way to the bottom;
a fish swims like a fish.
Vast sky transparent throughout;
a bird flies like a bird.

- Eihei Dogen

Portrait of Dogen Viewing the Moon

*Poem on the portrait written by Dogen in 1249.

Fresh, clear spirit covers old mountain man this autumn.
Donkey stares at the sky ceiling; glowing white moon floats.
Nothing approaches. Nothing else included.
Bouyant, I let myself go-filled with gruel, filled with rice.
Lively flapping from head to tail,
Sky above, sky beneath, cloud self, water origin.

On Zazen Practice by Dogen

The moon
abiding in the midst of
serene mind;
billows break
into light.

* Dogen teaches; Zazen is not merely a method by which one reaches awakening, but is itself awakening.

One inch bellow the mind

Tectonic vibrations
shaking the chest
Echoing nymph
in the cave of sound
Gasping for air,
breath stuck in the throat
Clenching the aversion
in the dying fist.

Down in the core
of the gathering world
Slowly like a saw,
breathing cutting through
Piles of slow-motion
seen by the withness
Flooding sensations
are lifting the skull.

A Poem by Dogen

Enlightenment is like the moon reflected on the water.
The moon does not get wet, nor is the water broken.
Although its light is wide and great,
The moon is reflected even in a puddle an inch wide.
The whole moon and the entire sky
Are reflected in one dewdrop on the grass.

The Zen Poetry of Dogen - Verses from the Mountain of Eternal Peace

Drifting pitifully in the whirlwind of birth and death,
As if wandering in a dream,
In the midst of illusion I awaken to the true path;
There is one more matter I must not neglect,
But I need not bother now,
As I listen to the sound of the evening rain
Falling on the roof of my temple retreat
In the deep grass of Fukakusa.

From: The Zen Poetry of Dogen: Verses from the Mountain of Eternal Peace

Falling into Flying

Slight push
Off the edge
In thin air

Tumbling down
In circles
Falling body

Pulling down
Into the void
In this dream

On and on falling
Turns into flying
There is no ground

Dogen Quote

Those who see worldly life as an obstacle to Dharma see no Dharma in everyday actions; they have not discovered that there are no everyday actions outside of Dharma.

Dogen Zenji (1200 - 1253)

Insight into Self and Non-self

Total acceptance
of the Dark Night
is the entrance
into Equanimity.

Its the "Self"
which becomes
the acceptance
and its the "Self"
which becomes
Equinimous.

Dark Night
is actualy
teaching the "Self"
that all type
of resistance is futile.

The "Self" accepting
this very fact
is propeling
the "Self"
towards Equanimity.

The "Self"
is de-selfing
into Wisdom.
The "Non-self"
is seen
through looking
at the "Self"
looking for
the "Non-self".

Together as One

I hate you
And you hate me
I hate your father
And you hate mine
I hate your brother
And you hate mine
I hate your children
And you hate mine
I aim the gun at you
And you at me
Aiming between your eyes
And you between mine
We pull the trigger
Together as One

Rhythmic Dharma

Scrubbing floor
Dirt releasing its grip
Water spreading
Music sheets

Hands grasping
Cloth against skin
Warmth exhaling
Rhythmic dance

Drops of energy
Running down the forehead
Eyes like cotton soft
Pointing into spaceness

Just a moment

Trapped under ice
The paradise is
Wisdom displaced
Often in sky evaporating

People are talking
Minds closing in
Just for a moment
Truth sliding away

Step behind step
Before eyes who
Become asleep
Poison arrow flying

Black birds of sorrow
All over the roof
Covering the inner
Most precious heart

Cities are empty
No one to be seen
Winds filling the houses
All windows are open

Smoke in thin air
Shadows creeping clockwise
Slow is the flow
Bones turn to dust

Roads of open space
Travelers long gone
Two meters deep
Buried in black soil

People are talking
Under this skull
Theatre of desire
The curtain is falling

Breathing without
Air as a wind
Grey into lungs
Life stands still

Asleep

Sailing throught
Rough sea
Huricane ripping
White sails

Waves like walls
Closing in
Vessle thrown
Into mass

Tunder striking
Bright and sharp
Sound is cracking
Night into light

Air is trembling
All are awake
Men nor fish
Are asleep

Amongst White Clouds - Movie

Zen Master Dogen - Movie

It was interesting for me to discover that Dogen was born on the same date as I was, on the January 19th (Wikipedia)

Zazen

The teaching is this;
One two three four five
Each inbreath and outbreath
Mindfuly in stillness counting.

Transparent wheel of change
Giving birth to all feelings
Causing the thoughts
Of anger and fear.

Awareness embracing gently
With warmth all arisings
Born to become sorrow
Suffering of the Self.

Counting never stops
Like diligent soldiers walk
Trooping throught the dark night
Spreading the light of Mindfulness.

Again and again in silence
The breath in and out flows
One two three four five
Melting the illusion of self.

Mind-field

No matter what i think, say or feel
No matter what i believe, want or know
Is questionable, Not to be taken seriously
Its origin is unclear and creator unknown.

It all springs from the mind always so justifying
It all is the becoming mind always so proliferating.
When talking to others or about others,
This mind actualy talks to itself, about itself.

Nothing this mind sais
Can be taken seriously.
Each thought, word or feeling
Is like placing a new land-mine under the skull.

All the intent, good or bad
Is like building a mine-field.
The mind ever so ready thinks and talks
Seeding horror over the lands of wisdom.

Growing ever so still and silent
Growing ever so mindful so aware
Of each step one takes in this gloomy Mind-field
Is the only Way to avoid stepping on the mind-mines
Created to blow up the Wisdom to pieces.

The wounded

Teeth against teeth
Sqeeling sound tearing
The fleshy wounds are open
White bones sticking out.

Metal falling hot
Howling down to earth
Welcoming with screems
The creeping death is near.

Hands dragging hands
Covered in smoking blood
Still warm in the cold day
The smoke turns into red dew.

Sweath pouring down
The throat drowning within
The last breath fighting
Open mouth to breath once more.

The making of coffee

Each move is so clear
In awareness of the moment
Right hand through the air
Approaching the can of coffee
Grabbing it with fingers tight
The left hand joining in
Oppening the can
Feet moving hands finding
The cup for coffee and a teaspoon too
One fast move and the water joins
The coffee in the cup fingers spinning
The spoon mixing all into strong scent
The coffee on the lips saturating
The tong down the throat hot.

The art of falling apart

There are things to be thought
There are things to be fought
There are things to be seen
There are things to percieve
There are things to unpeel
There are those to uncover
And many more to become
Before all can be undone
Before it all can start
The art of falling apart

Fools hope

Lost in dark corridors
No ground under the feet
In thin air hanging by a thread
Like a puppet without a puppetier

Cold bricks on both sides
Labyrinth-like walls sweathing
Shadows of those before me
Flying in harmonious disorder

Dead is this world of lost
Moisty odor fills the sense
Cold rot is eating the flesh
Bones stepping out for the final act.

Is there light to shine bright
Is there fire to warm up
Is there a friend to give a hand
Or is it all ... just a fools hope?

Nocturne

Pitch black dark
Spotted with stars
The sky is

Cold wind caressing
The skin shivers
Feet gone cold

Sounds in the night
Nocturnal drama unfolding
To disapear in the coming of dawn

Koan

What is the sound of a gun
if there is no one there
to pull the trigger?

Prison

At the edge of the bed
Sitting, looking down
Remembering thoughts
Flying amongst clouds

Shy smile showing
On the face two dots
Nothing to say
Nothing to hide

It was
It is
It will be
Time is a prison

Farmers dilema

Sliding down
Your warm skin
My palm petting
Calming you down
You eating out of my hands

Meeting your eyes
Seeing their light
Just before my hand
Will slay you down
Your flesh down my throat

Artist

Hanging in thoughts
Following habits
Spying on emotions
Like an operative
Action in inaction

Breathing winds of change
In and out of the universe
Seeping through nostrils
Filling space becoming ocean
Deep down golden rays following

Discovering worlds of becoming
As a bee discovers a flower
Zooming above all the colors
Streching on the canvas
This Mind is a great artist

Energy

Holding the body in palms
Like a drop of water
Ready to evaporate
Into nothingness

Cherished with warmth
Touching the skin
Calm settling in
Deep in the core

Fingers dancing
Over black n white
Tones flying wild
In all directions

Sliding into vibrations
Energy travels fast
Everything including
To spring into void

Drama in Dhamma

Vibrations filling lungs
Train of thoughts
Behind the eyes

People in same space
Words flying around
Hitting into eardrums

Reactions arising
Only to pass away
Replaced by new born ones

Creation of meanings
Personal perceptions
Drama in Dhamma

Rise n Fall

Vibrations flowing
Into the ear
Flodding the brain
In delightful music

Reaction initiated
Like Dominoes
One after another
Emotions rising and falling

Tragedy of Knowing

All people
Brothers n sisters
Enemies n foes
Same are we all
Bound by believes

Living a lie
Inevitably trying
Towards happiness
And immortality
Reaching through time

With each strive
With each thought
By saying "I Know"
Bringing tragedy
To the whole world

Insight into Suffering

Eardrums humming
In the lowest key
Pressure hanging
Behind the eyes

Focus blurring
Exploding into scenery
Of unstoppable fury
Made of thoughts

Armies of ants
Crawling under skin
Nails desiering
To fly into battle

Rejection is futile
Trying to dismantle
Whats made
Of ignorance n greed

Wave after wave
Hitting into the portside
Rocking the vessle
Ripe to be sunk

Inbreath fighting in
Outbreath falling heavy
The belly is dancing
To the death-song of becoming

Creation

Kneeling down
Before the sunrise
World of becoming
Behind the eyeballs
Into fragments gone

Naked feet touching
The soil wet from dew
Heavy clay calling
Reminding the body
Where it springs from

Dew drop like tunder
Into two bright sides
Breaking the mind
Into Moon and Sun
Creation of dawn

Dreams like a fog
Sliced with light rays
Dissipating into
An awakened eye
A bright day unfolding

Sensing

Soft in the fist
Warmth is flowing
Inwithin the heart
Spider web forming

Licking the wound
Bones sticking out
Hole in the body
Bleeding without

Pain in the chest
Sharp like a steal
Falling within
Something to feel

Sleeping beauty

Behind closed eyes
A beauty is asleep
High up on the fluffy
White soft clouds

Head covered with
Fields of strawberries
Hair gone wild
All over the face

Dreamer in dreams
Like fish in the ocean
Feeling at home
This beauty is asleep

Timeless actuality

Out of darkness
Shine and bright

Nowness creeping
Into light

Shadows turning
Into morning dew

Everything is wet
And so anew

Mind is looking
Into the sky

In a moment
Blink of an eye

Silence

Silence rising
From the bones
Marrow long gone
Into dust

Tunder passed
Away with lust
Mental image
Fabrication afloat

Wind is quiet
Silence lingers
Awaiting the next
Arising storm

Fist in the stomack

Vibrating shatter
Fist in the stomack
Towards the freedom
There is no sight

Just like a fleeting
Thought in the backround
Friends passing through it
Shadows dead now

Sounds of silence
Filling the skull
Echo thining out
From fields of sorrow

Fist in the stomack

One smile

Like a sunrise
Always new
Springs from silence
One smile for you

Blissful smile

Growing silence
Growing stillness
Expanding space
Propelled by
The blissful smile

Dukkha Nana

Under the skin
Like ants
Willing to escape
The sodom

Creeping sleezy
Breath behind
The neck
Sweathing cold

Drumming closing
In the scull
Pressing the nerv
Always there

Sitting inside
The freezer alone
The self is clenching
The bathroom door

Does it ever
Disappear in the clouds
As a memory
Of the Dark Night

Sinking in
The solid place
Where eyes see not
The new born day

Universe is
Behind the eyeballs
Never still
All melts into abstract

Mind

There is hair
There are ears
There is face
There are lips

There is neck
There is throat
There are shoulders
There are lungs

There is spine
There is skull
There are fingers
There is tong

There are teeth
There are eyeballs
There are innards
There are legs

There are nails
There are toes
There is skin
There is no mind to be found

Misinterpretation

You know ...

There are things and there are things, yes?
Then there are those things and these things, right?
What is there is not here
And what is here is there, isnt that so?

So,

When these are not here those things
Seem happening, or?
Then it goes up goes front and backwards
Ending only a few feet down the road, what?

You know ... ?

Brothers in arms

...

God and Devil
Brothers in arms
Birth and death
Is their spree

Throwing ideas
At each other
Never ending
Fate and hate

One Mother
Made them both
Who she is
No one knows

...

Walking

The sound of imminence
Within dark rays
Upon what builds
The cycling wheel

Through the canyon
Of memories
Long gone
Dead labyrinths

Screeming horses
Right through mountain
Passing is near
The candle is burning

Walking down the path
Wet feet stamping
The mind
Exploding into the star-lit sky

Contemplative Poem

Depth seem shallow
Breath gone long
Utterly misplaced
Behind the sun.

Focus sqeezing through
The dried eye balls
Crying upwards
Its raining down

Silence in non-motion
Fluttering butterfly
Leaving a powdery trace
A thin yellow line

Stopping clouds
Freezing time
Just a breath
The train goes on

Nothing lasts
This train goes wild
Butterfly life
Is bond to pass

Panoramic view

In the smoke
Of sun rise
Shiney eyes
Break the day

Parting from
Last concrete
Wall made
Of ignorance n greed

Falling low
Up and high
The Buddha is
On the ground

Blowing throat
Stomack deep
Behind the eyes
Shadow walking

With ease of
Broken try
Clouds are passing
Coming back

Heavy head
Shoulders attached
On the rope
Lots of fat

Panoramic view
There's no way
To see
Cold fog

Numbing thoughts

If there is
Whats below
On the sky

Just like that
Is it now
Rather low

Feeling ends
Birds song
In dead end

Off the edge
Dust and bones
Sleeping show

Fly, fly, fly
Down the hole
Lost in space

Breath dawning
rather shy
box of cigarettes

On the way

On the way
To enlightenment
Falling useless
Amongs the divine

And then it
Happens
Just like no-time
At least for several
Points in the deep

Do you hear it
Just like talking
In the night
Of the moon

It sure is there
Just like a token
Down the dusty
Way of thought
Must have sought

Creeping is there
Not for long
As it rises
From the top

Do you hear me
This gray world
Far and wide
Sliding slope
Near the bed

Creation of energy

Chewing once
What life was
Down the throat
Sliding elements

Feeling heavy

In the middle
People mixing
Names and habits
There is tension

In the center
Belly shaking
Cold breath
Palm is open

In within
All which cares
Shadowed down
The crystal rain

The thoughts
Pooring out
The deep sorrow
Feeling heavy

Imitations

One foot
Trapped in
The rituals
And dreams
Trying hard

Other foot
Stuck in
The grave
Of dead ideas
Wanting peace

And just
Like that
A smile
Breaks free
From imitations