Tag Archives: Taoism

Poetry

Falling Through The Sky, One Sees Ground Spin— Seeing This, One Lands — PIPE HAT PROFESSOR PURPLE- HIDING IN THE MAPLE

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of course, who can avoid thinking about things? no-body. so sure think, have a ball. just, never place your thoughts above what is… thinking, them. this is the only, thing— that matter. all that, confusion— about this. heh, a sin. no-confusion, just over active fusion. place in the rod, god? does it matter, small jabbering— sod? […]

via Falling Through The Sky, One Sees Ground Spin— Seeing This, One Lands — PIPE HAT PROFESSOR PURPLE- HIDING IN THE MAPLE

About me, Love, My Poetry, Poetry, Writing

The Inner Child by Nina Yin

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In a sense I am lost; feeling childlike in constant exploring of earth and oneself. I am, in a sense found; by my morality with love…and with compassion… I find myself restless in time, for time is complex. The mind cannot comprehend time nor comprehend anything in completeness. The Tao of existence unwordable, incomprehensible…

We are not all knowing beings but the fabric of existence has underlying comfort whether it is productive or not. Even terrible mistakes create great lessons. The child knows love most, your inner child craves it.

Life is complex in a mathematical sense but extremely simple in the aspect of conscious thought.

That being all that we have.

I trust this universe more than I trust myself. I say this in a sense that I do not feel in control, but the rain outside my window… it is bringing life to the earth; as is the sun, moon and the stars. Endless bounded in infinity… ; that is something I can trust. Allowing the universe to take control helps me in meditations and allowing what I cannot change.

Simplicity is bliss and sometimes in my childlike absence of self awareness, like when I draw a picture I am not drawing a picture. If I am absent and I perhaps simply am: the picture.

But as my inner child finishes the creation.

I must return to the grounding incomprehensible earth.

Here I am again.

 

-Nina

Mahayana Buddhism, Poetry, Stories, Taoism and Buddhism, Zen

Zen Stories : The Gift of Insults

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GoodnightNina.

There once lived a great warrior. Though quite old, he still was able to defeat any challenger. His reputation extended far and wide throughout the land and many students gathered to study under him.

One day an infamous young warrior arrived at the village. He was determined to be the first man to defeat the great master. Along with his strength, he had an uncanny ability to spot and exploit any weakness in an opponent. He would wait for his opponent to make the first move, thus revealing a weakness, and then would strike with merciless force and lightning speed. No one had ever lasted with him in a match beyond the first move.

Much against the advice of his concerned students, the old master gladly accepted the young warrior’s challenge. As the two squared off for battle, the young warrior began to hurl insults at the old master. He…

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Poetry, Taoism and Buddhism, Zen

Taoist Mystic by Nina Yin

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There was nothing, became everything, words devastating.

The tongue is far sharp-er sword. Bit-er sweet words

They ink jot and plot on pages

Captivating your mind, your captive in this ancient

Way. Since pyramids you peer-amidst scripture

The script will surely fit-the-picture

Graffiti-esque hieroglyphs; of time

In rhyme-form or devine-chords

Forever and ever and ever… trying to define more

Writers n biters, stolen ideas are the highest potential in-sequential

Prior to this something there was a comforting nothing

Simplistic-mystic-blissful-infinitely-intimate

Nothing.