A place for poems

Members: 39
Latest Activity: May 23


This is a group in which to post poetry that you have written yourself. It may be long or short, polished or rough, a celebration or an experiment. It is not a competition, more a place where we can share and appreciate and learn from each other and discuss each other's poems.

The poems are grouped into "discussions". Each discussion may be a theme or a poetry form. Each discussion can grow into a little collection. Add individual poems as "Comments" within the appropriate section. You can also add remarks as comments too. If there is no appropriate section, start a new one. If you feel clumsy doing this, don't worry - the site moderator will tidy it up later. Poems added should be broadly connected with the theme title of the discussion, but do not have to relate directly to other poems already posted.

Writing poetry can be everything from a light amusement through to a deep spiritual practice. Enjoy.

Discussion Forum


Started by David Brazier May 23. 0 Replies

My garden is full of weeds,yet some of them are attractiveif you have the eyeto appreciate their special qualities.My mind is full of stray thoughts,yet some of themare not so crazywhen you take a second glance.My life is a patchwork of many agendas,yet there are linksif one has the perspectiveto see the bigger picture.Many relationships have come and gonethough some still linger.Yet seen with the eyes of love,every one was a treasure.Yes, my garden is full of weedsand now I cultivate themwith…Continue

Ode to the trees

Started by Diana Hoagland. Last reply by David Brazier Apr 21. 1 Reply

Laying down on startled grass.I imagine the trees talking in spurts.They say this is my home undaunted,Survival depends on the rains.Yet, you'll not lay down near me when my soil(soul) is wet.Yet, I say I do not abandon you.I simply get too flooded with a noisy mind.Thoughts disperse in circles.Dearest tree, be with me.Forgive me, if I calculated my own discomfort in the rains that feed you.Won't you speak to me,Even when your leaves are dry.Continue


Started by David Brazier. Last reply by Mo Henderson Feb 26. 1 Reply

Now, suddenly, the season turns;the ice and winter rain have gone away;Sun rises sooner, greens the ferns,bids the world wake, rise, work and play.Precociously, the spring-like airnow full conveys the scent of daffodildissolving stiff tension, dispelling care,declaring newly, freedom from ill.Yet can we trust such sudden boon?Will yet come further frost and gale?Though we bask and enjoy, did we wake too soon?The sky, though blue, still shivers winter pale.Now we rejoice, step out while we…Continue


Started by David Brazier Feb 2. 0 Replies

I do not have time,yet time has meWhat an embarrassmentthat can be - my lifeunfolding free, easily,ticking along,each day a miracle song.I watch the cloudshanging over the treesand time somehowputs up with me,breezily at ease,doing as I please,with no sense of waste,no chase, unlaced and free.Time - you cannot hoard it.The store is empty,shot through with infinity.I’m just a zeroin the vicinity.No, I have no time,but it has all of me;so I apologiseto the powers that befor having to cope withmy…Continue

Body Armour

Started by Dayamay Dunsby Aug 22, 2020. 0 Replies

A frightened child hides behind this galvanized mask.Vulnerability obscured by it's own shadow.But not extinguished.Will he ever see the light of day?Namo Amida Bu!Continue


Started by David Brazier. Last reply by Nando May 27, 2020. 26 Replies

This is a place for posting haiku.A haiku is a 17 syllable poem, generally consisting of three lines with 5-7-5 syllables respectively. Normally the final line gives a twist or "turn" to the meaning or makes a reference to the season of the year. Traditionally, in Japan, haiku were often about the moon, clouds, cherry blossom, the wonders of nature, especially anything beautiful yet…Continue


Started by David Brazier. Last reply by Juline Smit May 4, 2020. 7 Replies

This can be a place to add bhakti poems.Continue


Started by David Brazier Apr 30, 2020. 0 Replies

Flowers under foot, clouds in the sky. Here, in between, I savour solitude. They are busy with their business, while I am merely watching, listening, with nothing to wait for.There is a weighty stillness inside of meas of a hunk of old granitein the midst of a torrent -all around, the rush of butterflies and bees about their ceaseless work.Do not ask, Who is this old fool? for, even if I knew the answer, it would make no difference.Continue


Started by David Brazier. Last reply by David Brazier Apr 11, 2020. 3 Replies

The Himalaya gleamingcan be seen from Katmanduthe smog has cleared away -it’s gone,the dust, the grime, the humans too,it’s all gone quiet on the streetthe dogs are asleep in the sunthat shines in the clear air abovenow the cars and planes have gone.It is a wonderful sight to seebut what shall become of us?We were the ones who made the messby all our business and fuss,and now we’re all under house arrestNature can ease her pain,but will we learn and will we changeor will it have been in…Continue

Fridge Haiku

Started by Dayamay Dunsby Nov 12, 2019. 0 Replies

We had a little Haiku challenge on the fridge notice board at the Temple recently. Here are mine.Black and golden sky.Night conceals the clouds for now.No trace of Summer.If birth causes death,Samsara is eternal.To live is to die.Namo Amida Bu(   ;Continue

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Comment by Dayamay Dunsby on April 18, 2019 at 10:04
The darkness subsides.
And the moon remains.
A luminous shadow.

Namo Amida Bu
Comment by David Brazier on April 17, 2019 at 18:37

Tao, you old Yin and Yang,
what have you made for dinner?
The wind is in the north today,
the full moon’s a winner,
but it takes no more
than a field of clay
to break the back of a sinner.

Comment by Dayamay Dunsby on April 17, 2019 at 8:00

The Moon glows pink in the morning mist.

Out of reach.

Night lifts.

Dream persists.

Namo Amida Bu.

Comment by Désirée Verstraete on March 5, 2019 at 10:03


Inside this clay jug
there are canyons and
pine mountains,
and the maker of canyons
and pine mountains!

All seven oceans are inside,
and hundreds of millions of stars.

The acid that tests gold is here,
and the one who judges jewels.

And the music
that comes from the strings
that no one touches,
and the source of all water.

If you want the truth, I will tell you the truth:
Friend, listen: the God whom I love is inside.

Comment by Cahya Maitri Avalokita on October 12, 2018 at 13:41
Darkness every which way,
But not because the streetlamps
Are out in town;
Heedless feet they stray --
Despite the path clearly laid,
The blinds are down;
Shutters closed to the light
Cast the world into shadow
And none can see;
Amitabha rising,
Buddha of Pure Land Bliss,
What fools are we?

Compassion every which way,
Though not of our deserving,
Shines on us;
Takes those feet that stray,
And sets them on that path
Called Joy and Trust;
Shutters are swung open,
Light so dazzling bright floods in,
The shadows flee;
Amitabha rising,
Buddha of Pure Land Bliss,
How blessed are we?

Namo Amitabha!
Comment by Dayamay Dunsby on April 7, 2018 at 13:58
Assume nothing!
Think deeply about everything.
Even the key turning in the door that stands between you and...

Brace yourself for something else...
Exert laziness and just give up.
Find the lowest point and submit.
Assume nothing!!

Namo Amida Bu( ;
Comment by Carol English on January 16, 2018 at 13:25

Masketeer and Aphrodite
Undercover membership
Each takes a turn and turns a corner
Sends the other silly quips

Send each other lies and secrets
Secret truths that masks belie
Undercover sensual boundaries
Will love live or will it die?

Will love live and serve its purpose?
Skin to skin the promise lurks
Nose to nose and lips to eyelids
Teasing secrets, fireworks?

Teasing secrets, fireworks
Can Masketeer catch Aphrodite?
Or will she hide while he pursues her
A fantasy that burns out brightly?

Can Masketeer catch Aphrodite
Will she wear her golden crown?
Will she run when he pursues her
Like the tarot, upside down?

Like the hanged man, upside down
Oh, will he fall, then, when her sees her
In robes of yellow, green and crimson
Is he fool or can he please her?

Is he fool or can he please her?—
For she’ll be more than conjured sylph
No thing of wings and gauze and satin
But instead her real self

Each thing of flesh and blood is mixed with
dreams and depths and coloured birds
Potters of each life are forming
The e’s of all ‘lectronic words.

The potters of each life are forming
Dreams from fields of soil unplowed
Those odd primordial exophagic
stanzas, coloured, burst from cloud

Comment by Andrew on April 6, 2017 at 23:09
Strangers passing in the dark fleeting glances.
Not knowing or caring about the others path
Where will it take them who pass without a word
Not a kind thought or care for the other as they glance
Not this for me I who must acknowledge who must care
Comment by Kim Terrell on March 25, 2017 at 8:38

Flying South

Time flying by me
thoughts nosily flocking south
headed to new worlds.

Comment by Andrew Ralph Cheffings on March 3, 2017 at 15:43


A garden is not a plan on paper,

It is not moving rocks, water and earth around;

It is gardening,

And everything gardens.


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