Zen Man, He Go

Zen man, he go.
Where go, who know?
No know.

Ha!

Zen man standing lightly
On leaf laughing.
Breezes being, coming, going.
All same place.

Ha!

How can I not be myself?
How can I not be myself?
How can I not be myself?
How can I
How can
How I
How can I not
How can I
How can I not be
How can I be
How be
How can I be myselfHow
Be
Myself
How can I
How not
How not I
How not myself
Be
How not be
How be
Be
Be not
Be not myself
Be myself
Not myself be
Be
Not be
Myself
Not
Being
Not
Not
Not
Being
.

Ha!

The Art of War

Don’t speak to me of the nobility of war,
Nor of the need to engage in slaughter.
For to me such lies are no more than mere obscenities.

The butchery that is war breeds no heroes.
No glory, nor grandeur, nor immemorial memories.
War brings merely empty arms and an end to hopes together.

We must not suffer tyrants, you say?
Why, our own leaders smiled at this very one
And shook his hand in comradeship. As long as they needed him.

And now we’re told to regard as the bad guys
Those who go to their deaths in the name of god?
Who are now the heroes? Who are now the martyrs?

No. Do not speak to me of the nobility of war.
Nor of the duty to make anguish and gore.
Such words are merely lies. Mere obscenities.