Verses of Ikkyu

I Hate Incense

A master’s handiwork cannot be measured
But still priests wag their tongues explaining the “Way” and babbling about “Zen.”
This old monk has never cared for false piety
And my nose wrinkles at the dark smell of incense before the Buddha.

From Crow With No Mouth, translated by Stephen Berg.

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Ikkyu this body isn't yours I say to myself wherever I am I'm there ten fussy days running this temple all red tape look me up if you want to in the bar whorehouse fish market nature's a killer I won't sing to it I hold my breath and listen to the dead singing under the grass suddenly nothing but grief so I put on my father's old ripped raincoat when I was forty-seven everybody came to see me so I walked out forever my monk friend has a weird endearing habit he weaves sandals and leaves them secretly by the roadside a crazy lecher shuttling back and forth between whorehouse and bar this past master paints south north east west with his cock no nothing only those wintry crows bright black in the sun peace isn't luck for six years stand facing a silent wall until the you of your face melts like a candle don't hesitate get laid that's wisdom sitting around chanting what crap life's like climbing knife-tree hills with swords sticking up day and night something stabs you we live in a cage of light an incredible cage animals animals without end sick of it whatever it's called sick of the names I dedicate every pore to what's here inside the koan clear mind gashes the great darkness ten years of whorehouse joy I'm alone now in the mountains the pines are like a jail the wind scratches my skin the wise know nothing at all well maybe one song men are like cows horses fuck poetry look at your hand read it I woke from a dream of death to day's amazing death grass death rice death chairs death death asleep or awake no words sitting alone night in my hut eyes closed hands open wisps of an unknown face my death? who was it anyway always where he was never no not once ever seeing himself an eyeball speaks

a well nobody dug filled with no water ripples and a shapeless weightless man drinks oh green green willow wonderfully red flower but I know the colors are not there my gray cat jumped up just as I lifted this spoon we're born we die if there's nowhere to rest at the end how can I get lost along the way? that stone Buddha deserves all the birdshit it gets I wave my skinny arms like a tall flower in the wind I won't die I won't go away I'll always be here no good asking me I won't speak only a kind deadly sincere man can show you the way here in the other world melons eggplants rice rivers the sky I offer them to you on this holiday oh yes things exist like the echo when you yell at the foot of a huge mountain hear the cruel no-answer until blood drips down beat your head against the wall of it the mind is exactly this tree that grass without thought or feeling both disappear not two not one either and the unpainted breeze in the ink painting feels cool go down on your silly knees pray for what? tomorrow is yesterday I found my sparrow Sonrin dead one morning and buried him just as gently as I would my own daughter I hate it I know it's nothing but I suck out the world's sweet juicy plum why is it all so beautiful this fake dream this craziness why? it's logical: if you are not going anywhere any road is the right one know nothing I know nothing nobody does can you face me and know nothing know stare at it until your eyes drop out this desk this wall this unreal page only one koan matters you you stand inside me naked infinite love the dawn bell rips my dreaming heart we're lost where the mind can't find us utterly lost