at least they are not out on the street, they
are careful to stay indoors, those
pasty mad who sit alone before their tv sets,
their lives full of canned, mutilated laughter.
their ideal neighborhood
of parked cars
of little green lawns
of little homes
the little doors that open and close
as their relatives visit
throughout the holidays
the doors closing
behind the dying who die so slowly
behind the dead who are still alive
in your quiet average neighborhood
of winding streets
of agony
of confusion
of horror
of fear
of ignorance.
a dog standing behind a fence.
a man silent at the window.
A Buddhist monk and his disciple gathered medicinal herbs in winding mountain
Short break. Sitting face to face in grove
The master asked: what is the sound
Disciple answered: It is the soughing of the wind in the pines
Asked again: what is the sound
Answered: birdsong in grove
Again: what is the sound
Answered: water snake jumping over the mountain stream
Again: what is the sound
Answered: Wind passing ears.
Asked again
Disciple Smiled
Silence in mountain
(Tr. 忍淹留)
推荐理由：语言简单直白，但不失禅诗意境。——忍淹留
[USA] Teresinka Pereira
BRING THE TROOPS HOME!
Mr. President,
please, bring the troops
home,
take care of their physical
wounds,
their psychological
wounds,
their moral
wounds.
Mr. President,
enough is enough!
Stop the killing
and start the healing.
ASAP.
You can’t see
my human’s shape
You can’t touch me
so deep
as you want
every night, every day
without using hands
without using words
You can’t steal my pride
at the bottom of fear
the special place with heart
is full of emptiness
my personal hole
is covered by nothing
but… please remember
sometimes
nothing is everything
for me
