Journal » Trout 16 » The Book Of Equanimity Verses [Richard von Sturmer]
   «       1       2       3       4       5       6       7       8    9    10       »   


The Book of Equanimity Verses

Richard von Sturmer

Eight verses from a hundred verse sequence,
inspired by The Book of Equanimity, a Zen Buddhist
collection of one hundred koans.


Taking two slices of toast
out of the toaster,
getting my father-in-law
who has Parkinson's
his morning pills—
the world begins again
with clear sunlight
and ants on the kitchen bench.


Lying on her back
in the great ocean
she raises her legs
and walks across the sky.
Friends on the shore
try to attract her attention
with all sorts of antics,
but she's there and not there.


The rhinoceros
is not a rowdy beast.
His armor forms his intelligence.
We, on the other hand,
stand perplexed
unable to work out
where the rain of acorns
is coming from.


Rolling up the blinds
sunlight fills the paddocks.
Grass, sheep, fence posts—
nothing to add
nothing to take away.
As the tide goes out
the rocks are exposed.


A cloud penis enters
a cloud vagina.
For those who desire
the pure sky
it's a disappointment.
Showers are forecast.
The old woman from Tinopai
walks across the mudflats.


Edison's last breath
kept is a glass jar
then let out
ahhhhh …
eighty years later
ahhhhh …
and the stars still shine
above New Jersey.


The upper hand
lies forgotten
in a bottom drawer.
The lower hand is lost
gathering dust
somewhere in a basement.
Now that all conflict has ended
the roof tiles reflect the moonlight.


It's in the space between
the pillar and the lattice windows.
It's drawn to scale
by a blind person in a dream.
Look — when the kingfisher flies
into a phoenix palm
all the colours of the Nile
carry you across the evening sky.


 « contents » 
© Copyright 2010 Richard Von Sturmer & Trout.