Posted: January 25, 2020 Filed under: books, Buddhism Zen, people, states of mind, writers
Three new chapbooks by Red Pine’s Empty Bowl Press. Order at Amazon.
Posted: January 12, 2020 Filed under: books, people, time and space, writers
“I cannot remember the books I read any more than the meals I have eaten, even so, they have made me.”
Posted: January 4, 2020 Filed under: Buddhism Zen, people, religion, states of mind, writers
Loy’s book is essential for anyone practicing some level of Zen, Buddhism, Taoism, or a student of the writings of Heidegger or the Japanese philosophers related to the writings of Suzuki, Abe, et al. Loy was a student in Yamada Roshi’s Sanbo Kyodan lineage. The new edition has a revised introduction and notes; it is published by Yale University Press.
Posted: December 24, 2019 Filed under: books, people, poetry, states of mind, writing
“Emerson says now and then that language might lead us back to human origins, that ‘language,’ as he says in ‘The Poet,’ is ‘fossil poetry.’ This implies that there are discoverable traces in language of that aboriginal power by which we invent ourselves as a unique form of nature. Frost in an Emersonian mood ends the poem ‘All Revelation’ with a tribute to this human inventiveness:
‘Eyes seeking the response of eyes
Bring out the stars, bring out the flowers,
Thus concentrating earth and skies
So none need be afraid of size.
All revelation has been ours. ‘”
Posted: October 21, 2019 Filed under: Buddhism Zen, people, states of mind, writers
This is part of several fragments and notes jotted down on the back of an envelope by D.T. Suzuki and published in The Eastern Buddhist in Vol XXXIII No. 2 in 2001. They were immediate flashes of his inner experience and understanding as contrasted with the careful prose found in his essays and books.
Posted: July 20, 2019 Filed under: people, poetry, states of mind, writing
The Second Coming
By William Butler Yeats
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?