Ikkyu appears very unconventional for most of us. He carried a human head skeleton on the new year's day to warn people in Kyoto to be aware of impermanence when they were all celebrating. (Remember Sept. 11 Terrorist attack?) I feel the environment we live in will make our concern tied to the specific conditions given at that time as obvious as it may be. Bankei is less peculiar, perhaps. It appears that he was quite grounded in one and only point - the Buddha mind - in his own way. Ryokan, I added here quickly, has yet another universe of his own - with the same heart at the core. There is another file listed on my home page on Ryokan, but here are few more of this man as if Thoreau of Japan. He offers quite a different yet unique flavor of poems to be appreciated especially for those very close to the nature.

Each of these Zen masters had different upbringings that I feel influenced their life quite deeply. Their life and these poems seem to answer to their life's concern from the depth of their mind/heart. At the end, as they reached at the top of the mountain, as Ikkyu mentioned, they all saw the same moon shining the whole universe.

Many paths lead from

The foot of the mountain

But at the peak

We all gaze at the

Single bright moon

Some words may appear far fetched. However, I hope these poems do not bring a wrong image on what they are pointing at for us. It may be that only wise and compassionate ones who climbed up the passage of the mountain appreciate the deep meaning behind these words. Otherwise, we may just take a glimpse of the bright moon through the shadows of the pine trees. May all being be happy!

Ikkyu's Poem *

Selected from Zen and Zen Classics (Blyth)

If you break open the cherry tree,

Where are the flowers?

But in the spring time, see how they bloom!

**

Rain and hail, snow and ice

Are divided from one another;

But after they fall,

They are the same water

Of the stream in the valley.

**

To write something and leave it behind us,

It is but a dream.

When we awake we know

There is not even anyone to read it.

**

Look at the cherry blossoms!

Their color and scent fall with them,

Are gone forever,

Yet mindless

The spring comes again.

**

When it blows,

The mountain wind is boisterous,

But when it blows not,

It simply blows not.

**

Dimly for thirty years;

Faintly for thirty years, -

Dinly and faintly for sixty years:

At my death, I pass my faeces and offer them to Brahma.

**

The vast flood

Rolls onward

But yield yourself,

And it floats you upon it.

**

On the sea of death and life,

The diver's boat is frightened

With "Is" and "Is not";

But if the bottom is broken through,

"Is" and "Is not" disappear.

**

As Ikkyu does not think of his body

As if it were his body,

He lives in the same place,

Whether it is town or country.

**

I would like

To offer you something,

But in the Daruma Sect (Zen)

We have nothing at all.

(1400’s) from his poem "Skeletons" from: http://www.elon.edu/sullivan/zenpoems.htm

Students, sit earnestly in zazen, and you will realize that everything born in this world is ultimately empty, including oneself and the original face of existence. All things indeed emerge out of emptiness. The original formlessness is the "Buddha," and all other similar terms -- Buddha-nature, Buddhahood, Buddha-mind, Awakened One, Patriarch, God -- are merely different express- ions for the same emptiness. Misunderstand this and you will end up in hell.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
One night . . . a pitiful -looking skeleton appeared and said these words:

A melancholy autumn wind
Blows through the world;
The pampas grass waves,
As we drift to the moor,
Drift to the sea.

What can be done
With the mind of a man
That should be clear
But though he is dressed up in a monk’s robe,
Just lets life pass him by?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Toward dawn I dozed off, and in my dream I found myself surrounded by a group of skeletons . . . . One skeleton came over to me and said:

Memories
Flee and
Are no more.
All are empty dreams
Devoid of meaning.

Violate the reality of things
And babble about
"God" and "the Buddha"
And you will never find
the true Way.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I liked this skeleton . . . . He saw things clearly, just as they are. I lay there with the wind in the pines whispering in my ears and the autumn moonlight dancing across my face.

What is not a dream? Who will not end up as a skeleton? We appear as skeletons covered with skin -- male and female -- and lust after each other. When the breath expires, though, the skin ruptures, sex disappears, and there is no more high or low. Underneath the skin of the person we fondle and caress right now is nothing more than a set of bare bones. Think about it -- high and low, young and old, male and female, all are the same. Awaken to this one great matter and you will immediately comprehend the meaning of "unborn and undying."

If chunks of rock
Can serve as a memento
To the dead,
A better headstone
Would be a simple tea-mortar.

Humans are indeed frightful beings.
A single moon
Bright and clear
In an unclouded sky;
Yet still we stumble
In the world’s darkness.

Have a good look -- stop the breath, peel off the skin, and everybody ends up looking the same. No matter how long you live the result is not altered[even for emperors]. Cast off the notion that "I exist." Entrust yourself to the wind-blown clouds, and do not wish to live for ever.

This world
Is but
A fleeting dream
So why by alarmed
At its evanescence?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The vagaries of life,
Though painful
Teach us
Not to cling
To this floating world.

Why do people
Lavish decorations
On this set of bones
Destined to disappear
Without a trace?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

No one really knows
The nature of birth
Nor the true dwelling place.
We return to the source
And turn to dust.

Many paths lead from the foot of the mountain,
But at the peak
We all gaze at the
Single bright moon.

If at the end of our journey
There is no final
Resting place,
Then we need not fear
Losing our Way.

No beginning,
No end.
Our mind
is born and dies:
The emptiness of emptiness!
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rain, hail, snow and ice:
All are different,
But when they fall
They become the same water
As the valley stream.

The ways of proclaiming
The Mind vary,
But the same heavenly truth
Can be seen
In each and every one.

Cover your path
With the fallen pine needles
So no one will be able
To locate your
True dwelling place.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

From: a book Zen sex on the web

To say that zen has nothing to do with sex would be to say that sex is unnatural. Nothing could be further from the truth. The way of zen is to allow nature to express itself through all of our actions, whatever they are, in the same way the cherry blossom blooms naturally in the spring.

Ten days

In the monastery

Made me restless.

The red thread

On my feet

Is long and unbroken.

If one day you come

Looking for me,

Ask for me

At the fishmonger's,

In the tavern,

Or in the brothel.

**

He openly wore his priest's robes to the pleasure quarters to signify the spiritual nature of his activity:

Me, I am praised as a general of Zen,

Tasting life and enjoying sex to the fullest!

Every moment, be it in sex or quiet meditation, offers a chance for zen realization, Ikkyu said. Let anything and everything be your source of absorption, for zen truth applies to all things at all times. No matter how you come to zen-through archery, motorcycle maintenance, flower arranging, martial arts, guitar playing, or love-making--the progression toward enlightenment is the same. In Ikkyu's words,

Many paths lead from

The foot of the mountain

But at the peak

We all gaze at the

Single bright moon

Just awaken to the truth; how and where do not matter. Sex offers the same opportunity for enlightenment as anything else.

***mundane is sacred - osho, everyday mind is tao, also master Rinzai (a.d. ?-866) put it, true zen is earthy, natural, and nothing special: "Shit and piss, wear your clothes, eat your meals, and in all things be ordinary." In ordinary is the extra ordinary!!!!!

If we look deeply enough into the ordinary, as zen proscribes, we discover something extraordinary. ----Life can seem so "ordinary" that our senses become dulled. We keep looking for some extra zip to our lives, some glass of champagne, when all around is pure drinking water. Coursing through every living thing is a vibrant energy, by its very nature a sexual life-force. We're all born of it, we all manifest it. The more acutely we become attuned to this "ordinary" energy, the more we begin to marvel at its dimension and wonder, the more we feel it and express it in our lives and love-making.

* About desire; need some quote….desire is ordinary…not to make a mistake and throw it away carelessly (Perhaps reflect on part one)

The autumn breeze of a single night of love is better than a hundred thousand years of sterile sitting meditation.

Thus, what makes Zen Sex mind-blowing is not its promise to deliver a superorgasm, but its potential to rescramble our brains-to change the way we look at ourselves, our love-making, and the world. What makes it the best sex we can possibly have is not its capacity to fulfill our fantasies, but to so deeply absorb us that all thinking is forgotten and we feel the perfection of Divine Love. (*** again, very careful of Roshi's dirty laundry.. there are amateurs who imitate pros. Traps are every where perhaps as many as treasures. It may depend on how the other party respond, whether she is a master or not.)

"Paths cannot be taught, they can only be taken." (***Master's path you cannot follow, it is like finding the track of a bird that flown away.***)

Do not be mistaken, though. What applies to one applies equally to the others, for there are no divisions in the Way. To be truly absorbed in love-making, the whole of you must be present.(*** No boundary....)

(*** Opposite case of old lady's burning hut: Ikkyu asked a friend's wife to have sex. The wife hesitated and reported the incident to her husband. He was a good friend of Ikkyu, quite liberated, and said to her why did she not accept? With this, she went back to Ikkyu all prepared with make up. However, this time Ikkyu was not interested. )

(***Please be reminded that I am just suggesting the point of flexible, supple mind but not making a general statement of what should be the case. If we are the kind of master like Ikkyu, we may know it. Other master may have different response like responding to koan. If we are not masters, it may be best to follow the precept which was developed over many years and brings certain result. When I hear the problems associated with only focusing on illogical side of Zen, i.e., free sex, etc., I see an unbalanced, not meeting the middle way, practice. We should realize that each situation should bring specific solution. Osho and Rolls Royse?)

=====

A Woman's Sex

It has the original mouth but remains wordless;

It is surrounded by a magnificent mound of hair.

Sentient beings can get completely lost in it

But it is also the birthplace of all the Buddhas of the ten thousand worlds.

• Ikkyu, Japan

Ikkyu is certainly known to have used Tantra as a way of transformation. The sexual energy is nothing but your very life energy, it is only the name. You can call it sex energy, but by your labeling it `sex', it does not become different, it is life energy. And it is better to call it life energy, because that is a wider term, more inclusive, more comprehensive.

(***osho: and why he has always insisted there be no division between the ‘mundane’ and the ‘sacred’

-

The quote of Ikkyu seems worth giving at this stage, "Change base lust into refined love and it is worth more than a mountain of gold."

Satori is to know that there is no such thing as satori. - satori and delusion is one…)

=

There is a koan that I would like to finish with by Rainer Maria Rilke,

just a short line out of a long poem, quoted in the book called The

Enlightened Heart:

Isnt the secret intent of this great Earth, when it forces lovers together,

that inside their boundless emotion all things may shudder with joy?

===

Another great character and master is Chao-chou, and he has some

comments about the passions. After master Chao-chou visited Mount

Wu-tai, his teaching spread widely in north China. He was invited to

stay at the Kuan Yin monastery in his own native town of Chao-chou.

He came to the assembly and said, It is as if a transparent crystal

were held in ones hand. When a foreigner approaches it, it mirrors

him as such; when a native Chinese approaches it, it mirrors him as

such. I take a stalk of grass and let it act as a golden-bodied one,

sixteen feet high, and I take a golden-bodied one, sixteen feet high

and let it act as a stalk of grass. Buddhahood is passion, and

passion is Buddhahood.

During his sermon a monk asked him, In whom does Buddha cause

passion? Chao-chou said, Buddha causes passion in all of us.

The monk asked, How do we get rid of it?

Chao-chou said, Why should we get rid of it?

In ancient days an old woman made offering to a hermit over a period of twenty years, and one day she sent her sixteen-year-old niece to take food to the hermit, telling her to make advances to him and to see what he would do. So the girl lay her head on the hermits lap and said, How is this?

The hermit said, The withered tree is rooted in an ancient rock in

bitter cold during winter months; there is no warmth, no life.

The girl reported this to her aunt, and the old woman said, That vulgarian! How outrageous! To think that I have made offerings to him for twenty years! So she drove the hermit away and burnt down his cottage.

(1622-1693) -- his "Song of Original Mind"

Unborn and imperishable
Is the original mind
Earth, water, fire and wind
A temporary lodging for the night

Attached to this
Ephemeral burning house
You yourselves light the fire, kindle the flames
In which you’re consumed
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Keep your mind as it was
When you came into the world
And instantly this very self
Is a living "thus-come" one

Ideas of
What’s good , what’s bad
All due to
This self of yours

In winter, a bonfire
Spells delight
But when summertime arrives
What a nuisance it becomes!

And the breezes
You loved in summer
Even before the autumn’s gone
Already have become a bother
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Throwing your whole life away
Sacrificed to the thirst for gold
But when you saw your life was through
All your money was no use

Clinging, craving and the like
I don’t have them on my mind
That’s why nowadays I can say
The whole world is truly mine!
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Since, after all this floating world
Is unreal
Instead of holding onto things in
Your mind, go and sing!

Only original mind exists
In the past and in the future too
Instead of holding onto things in
Your mind, let them go!
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Having created
the demon mind yourself
When it torments you mercilessly
You’re to blame and no one else

When you do wrong
our mind’s the demon
There’s no hell
To be found outside

Abominating hell
Longing for heaven
You make yourself suffer
In a joyful world

You think that good
Means hating what is bad
What’s bad is
The hating mind itself
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Fame, wealth, eating and
drinking, sleep and sensual delight --
Once you’ve leaned the Five Desires
They become
Your guide in life

Notions of what one should do
Never existed from the start
Fighting about what’s right, what’s wrong
That’s the doing of the "I"

When your study
Of Buddhism is through
You find
You haven’t anything new
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

If you think the mind
That attains enlightenment
Is "mine"
Your thoughts will wrestle, one with the other

These days I’m not bothering about
Getting enlightenment all the time
And the result is
I wake up in the morning feeling fine!

Praying for salvation in the world to come
Praying for your own selfish ends
Is only piling on more and more
Self-centeredness and arrogance
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Die -- then live
Day and night within the world
Once you’ve done this, then you can
Hold the world right in your hand!
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

If you search for the Pure Land
Bent upon your own reward
You’ll only find yourself
despised
By the Buddha after all!

People have no enemies
None at all right from the start
You create them all yourself
Fighting over right and wrong

Clear are the workings of cause
and effect
You become deluded, but
don’t know
It’s something that you’ve done yourself
That’s what’s called self- centeredness
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Though the years may creep ahead
Mind itself can never age
This mind that’s
Always just the same

Wonderful! Marvelous!
When you’ve searched
and found at last
The one who never will grow old
-- "I alone!"

The Pure Land
Where one communes at peace
Is here and now, it’s not remote
Millions and millions of leagues away

When someone tosses you a tea bowl
-- Catch it!
Catch it nimbly with soft cotton
With the cotton of your skillful mind!

(Zenshu, pp. 519-522 -- trans. Peter Haskel, Bankei Zen, pp. 125-132)

(1758-1831)

How happy I am

As I go hand in hand

With the children,

To gather young greens

In the field of spring!

**

The wind brings enough

Of fallen leaves

To make a fire.

**

What a happy thing it is

To listen to the frogs

In the mountain fields,

Stretched at full length

In my thatched hut!

**

Though I think

Not to think about it any more,

I do think about it,

And wet my sleeves

Thinking about it.

**

What shall I leave

As a memento?

Flowers in the spring,

The hototogisu* in summer,

Tinted leaves of autumn.

* a tiny bird with beautiful voice.

* This one is his last poem…

* Please note for more Ryokan's poem in the other file.

** Back to my home page: http://www.oocities.org/suzakico/index.html