My Zen

Never mind Fuketsu’s Zen. If you want to express the truth, throw out your words, throw out your silence, and tell me about your own Zen. – Mumonkan My Zen is a joke. * My Zen walks like a duck and quacks like a duck. * My Zen does not pass Go. * My Zen …

Restoring the words

This entry is part 30 of 42 in the series Antiphony: Paul Zweig

I’m reading Paul Zweig. This is the twelfth poem in the third (“Eternity’s Woods”) section of his Selected and Last Poems, followed by my response. See here for details on this experiment in responsive reading. One Summer Before Man by Paul Zweig Listen! The undergarments of the women Are rustling OM. It is the Sanskrit …

Marmota monax

This enigmatic megalith measures about seven feet tall and sits all by itself in the middle of a lawn behind the old sheep barns on the Penn State Berks campus, near Reading, Pennsylvania. Earlier, travelling east on U.S. Route 22 between Huntingdon and Lewistown, we had passed a barn with huge letters painted on the …

Knot

I wrote this yesterday afternoon. Above and below the Road to the Far Field, the wreckage of a woods. Big sugar maples, black cherries, red maples, shagbark hickories – all ripped down by the ice. But the view! On this clear, cold day, Sinking Valley is a glaze of white between ridges that mix brown …