Article
By Meera Alagaraja
Women’s Rights and Spirituality at the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair
Category
Buddhism
Showing 1-20 of 33 results
- PoemBy John BalabanChased by Chinese troops, the monks
blinked like owls in the sun sheen
abandoning their burning temple
where the obdurate slumped over altars
with bullet-hole Third Eyes oozing
gunpowder and pineal, black blood.
With blizzards choking the high passes
they huddled in the cliff caves
while trusting you... - PoemBy Britney FrancoMy eyes are on yours
Looking for my body in the dark pools of your pupils
And my mind is in a dark suburban town
Where the milkman delivers clanking bottles
To the homes of disenchanted Gen Xers.
You label me an old soul but... - PoemBy Michael MetivierWhen the townspeople
gave the teenaged Buddha
a glass of wine
so delicious he grew
to an unthinkable size
and froze into a blue statue
that shielded the town
from a wave that broke
upon his back
and would have swept away
the town if he’d not tasted
the wine and... - PoemBy David RoderickBasho said to refuse a prayer until its warmth hunches inside like
a bird in its hutch. First the fledgling is born, then the worm, then they
meet somewhere in the grass. I choose my paper for its cereal color, fuss
over shaving... - PoemBy Sydney LeaMy objectives this morning were vague.
As always I'd hike these hills—
a way to keep going
against the odds age deals,
a way to keep body and soul
together, and not so much thinking
as letting things steal into mind—
but I started counting
from the very... - PoemBy Gary SnyderAt the last turn in the path
“goodbye—”
—bending, bowing,
(moss and a bit of
wild
bird-)
down.Daitoku-ji Monastery - PoemBy Kobayashi IssaTranslated By Robert HassAll the time I pray to Buddha
I keep on
killing mosquitoes. - PoemBy Gary SnyderO Wave God who broke through me today
Sea Bream
massive pink and silver
cool swimming down with me watching
staying away from the spear
Volcano belly Keeper who lifted this island
for our own beaded bodies adornment
and sprinkles us all... - PoemBy Chuang TzuTranslated By Thomas MertonThe non-action of the wise man is not inaction.
It is not studied. It is not shaken by anything.
The sage is quiet because he is not moved,
Not because he wills to be quiet.
Still water is like glass.
You can look in it... - PoemBy Marilyn ChinWhy cry over dried flowers?
They’re meant to be straw.
Why cry over miniature roses?
They’re meant to be small.
Why cry over Buddha’s hand citron?
Why cry over the hidden flower?
Why cry over Mother’s burnt forehead?
Her votive deathglow, her finest hour. - PoemBy Richard TagettI like to lie with you wordless
on black cloud rooft beach
in late june 5 o’clock tempest
on clump weed bed with sand
fitting your contours like tailor made
and I like to wash my summer brown face
in north cold hudson rapids
with octagon soap
... - PoemBy Dick AllenMake your strokes thus: the horizontal:
as a cloud that slowly drifts across the horizon;
the vertical: as an ancient but strong vine stem;
the dot: a falling rock;
and learn to master the sheep leg, the tiger’s claw,
an apricot kernel, a dewdrop, the... - PoemBy Tim DlugosI'm at a double wake
in Springfield, for a childhood
friend and his father
who died years ago. I join
my aunt in the queue of mourners
and walk into a brown study,
a sepia room with books
and magazines. The father's
in a coffin; he looks exhumed,
the... - PoemBy Joanne Kyger
He is pruning the privet
of sickly sorrow desolation
in loose pieces of air he goes clip clip clip
the green blooming branches fall—‘they’re getting... - PoemBy Diane di PrimaI saw you in green velvet, wide full sleeves
seated in front of a fireplace, our house
made somehow more gracious, and you said
“There are stars in your hair”— it was truth I
brought down with me
to this sullen and dingy place that... - PoemBy Izumi ShikibuTranslated By Jane HirshfieldAlthough the wind
blows terribly here,
the moonlight also leaks
between the roof planks
of this ruined house. - PoemBy Garrett HongoAt six I lived for spells:
how a few Hawaiian words could call
up the rain, could hymn like the sea
in the long swirl of chambers
curling in the nautilus of a shell,
how Amida’s ballads of the Buddhaland
in the drone of the priest’s... - PoemBy Li BaiTranslated By Sam HamillThe birds have vanished down the sky.
Now the last cloud drains away.
We sit together, the mountain and me,
until only the mountain remains. - PoemBy Peter PereiraGift of a friend, the stone Buddha sits zazen,
prayer beads clutched in his chubby fingers.
Through snow, icy rain, the riot of spring flowers,
he gazes forward to the city in the distance—always
the same bountiful smile upon his portly face.
Why don’t I...