Mu-mon-kan

Some poems stick with me.  I’ve thought of this poem by E. E. Cummings since high school: anyone lived in a pretty how town.  Though I don’t entirely understand the imagery (you can take that statement from the school of thought that says the author has a distinct message to convey), I like the poem for the same reasons I love Mike Doughty; there’s a rhythm and a resonance in the word choice.

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone’s any was all to her

someones married their everyones 
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream

I enjoy it based on how it feels when I hear the words and not because of a deeper understanding.  Why do other people enjoy it?  Or why don’t they?

A philosopher asked the Buddha: “Can you tell me the truth without word and without wordlessness?” The Buddha answered with silence. The philosopher thanked him for his loving kindness, thanks to which he had entered the Tao. After he left, Ananda asked what he had learned. “A good horse runs even when seeing only the shadow of the whip.”

~ Zen Flesh, Zen Bones

By becoming attached to names and forms, not realising that they have no more basis than the activities of the mind itself, error rises and the way to emancipation is blocked. -Buddha

If only possessions/obsessions were so easily dispelled . . .