Featured image: Simkamukha fragment. From thangka-art.com Simhamukha is a supreme dakini in Tibetan Buddhism, who combines anthropomorphic and zoomorphic features. She is an wrathful emanation of Guhya Jnana Dakini (Tib. Sangwa Yeshe Khandroma) and is revered in the Nyingma school as one of Padmasambhava’s main teachers. In Hevajra Tantra, she appears as one of the […]
Author: Teahouse
An Unquestioned Gift
Instinct reminds the butterfly they are changing No counting the daysor paying attention to the position of the sun It is always present
Seven Haiku
winter morning —daylight arriveswithout a story snow plungesfrom tower block ledgeslike falling bodies duckling left behindpaddles to catch upwith mother and siblings children playing in ruins of millme 40 summers agowalking by today young woman pushing prambruise beneath her eyemorning rain zazen together, one breath4000 miles butno distance between us winter street —dog turd on […]
Journals
Journal #3Survival is nature’s morality. Life on its own is valueless. We give it value.We make it worthsomething,and say it’s so. Like your Aunt’sfavorite pearls or your Uncle’sgolden watch. We are the treefalling with no onethere to hear it crash.
Clocks
How long would the music be withoutseconds and minutes? The feeling of time is different. Put away your phones. Cover your watches.Eliminate all the telling devices. Play Japanese flutes. And ask how long the musicwill play for. How do you keep track?
Feedback
I am not breaking apart. I am not coming undoneI am not washed up I am breaking open And it’s about time It’s okayI trust my path
Dukkha, to ride a bike, barbershop
The Buddhist Short Story Game: you give me a Buddhist-themed noun, an action, and a location, and I create the story. Today, I was given the noun “Dukkha” (Pāli for suffering), the action “to ride a bike,” and a location “barbershop.” Hope you enjoy the read! Wayne closed his front door behind him, shutting out […]
Spider Bite
a kissso patient still in themouth a seedcrouching stinglessbuzzing coveredwith pink and emeraldbeadwork
No Order of Things
my feet knit the socksthat knit her knitting-needlesthat knit herand send her to the riverwhere she finds the rockthat sets her on a pathto where i’m waiting for herthough neither of us knows it
NO
Frost on the ground,Condensation on the window.Maybe something brittlebroke along the way; I’ve learned there’s no such thingAs a perfect triangleAnd now there doesn’t seemThat much to say. Between seasons,Colours indistinct,Painted life in shadesNot quite of grey, No stone to be castBetween guilt and innocence,And now there doesn’t seemThat much to say. Water on the […]