Writers Harbor

Category: Auto-biographical (spiritual quest)

  • My Hut in the Sky

    My Zen hut rests upon rocks at the summit clouds fly past and more clouds arrive a waterfall hangs in space beyond the door a mountain ridge rises like a wave in back I drew three Buddhas on a wall I put a plum branch in a jar for incense the fields below might be…

  • Caution – Small Man Rhyming

        Caution – Small Man Rhyming Great Vanity of vanities How much Art and feeling In our world today Is warped and twisted Perverted and falsified Willingly For the poisonous pleasures Of Reward or Fame? I admire the man Who left only his zither and a donkey And the donkey ill at that But…

  • My Dance in the Clouds

    My Dance in the Clouds My Dance in the Clouds Spontaneous and colorful Like all things of men Will pass, one day. When the Music stops And the Bandmaster bows, I too From the waist Shall bow deeply. And to you two silent partners of The Way To my dreams and your thoughts To sun…

  • Standing Alone

    Humanity WHO?… oh, you mean that lot on Sigma Alpha 274 Delta Echo? Standing Alone Standing alone On a rocky, windswept ledge Just below the summit Of a minor, rocky mountain. I gaze At so-called civilization, Humanity by name Far below Insignificant And wrapped, blindly In a cocoon of madness. Only here, Where it is…

  • Red Dust (2) “In the Shadow of the Turtle, Meditation “

    Red Dust Part 2: In the Shadow of the Turtle, Meditation. On that same Angola beach, where I watched the ripples roll in, and die, smoothly, on their very last stage of their Long March, there were mounds of sand. Turtle nests. Former… turtle nests. With an air of decay, and emptiness, and futility hanging…

  • Red Dust (1): If you need a Teacher

    Red Dust : If you need a teacher It is a few days afterwards. The rain has eased off, but it is still blowing hard up here. The plucky “Little Bird that flew off Slea Head” is around, somewhere. I wonder about him. And the story I wrote out about him. Already, it seems, chiseled…

  • These claws unkind, inside my mind

    THESE CLAWS UNKIND, INSIDE MY MIND Too much to bear Thoughts everywhere The flash and clack The cyber whack these claws unkind Inside my mind. Sometimes I wish For a simple dish Just wander and read And only heed the quiet whirring of thoughts stirring. It would perhaps Be a total collapse Of my rickety…

  • Manifesto – I see the World

    MANIFESTO – I SEE THE WORLD (italics/underscore denotes clickable hyperlinks) I see the world. I am the Silent Warrior. I see it, unflinchingly, albeit through simple eyes. No Einstein, me. No Charles Dickens, either. Just little moi, the scribbler. A streak of Mischief. With pronounced Anarchistic, Anti-Authoritarian instincts. Floater me. He who likes to laugh.…

  • Of Helicopters and Humans (18) I am Flying

    Of Helicopters and Humans Part 18: I am flying I am flying… Across the Tuna Fields, somewhere North of Papua New Guinea, and a long way South of a good little woman who waits patiently for me. My Hughes 500 D Model is feeling frisky this morning. She is striding along smoothly, with that steady,…

  • The Winds of Old Ireland (for the love of rhyme and verse)

    The Winds of Old Ireland (for the love of rhyme and verse) I confess: I’m a feeling man. Oh, such a fool… in so many ways. At times, a fool for women. At times, a fool for wine. Often, a fool for myself, and a fool for Time. “But of all the many fools I’ve…