The Radish Gospel
A breakfast of radishes:
the happiest act of oblivion
in the Church of No.
I disclaim any other government but fire
and in the body, joy.
No money or credit, I spend time, play music.
I came to bring this news
and a bottle of wine.
Poems on the topic: joy
Poems on the topic “joy” on Poets.by.
Ash Wednesday
Ash overtook me, all joy
only a seed on the wind.
I went to the alley and bought a cat
and a good piece of cheese, I wonder why.
As if it is better to be here
than anywhere else.
Skylark
in the customs of larks
joy is all the rage
they pierce the heart
afire with a news in which
I hardly believe
Parts unknown
I am an ordinary person
ingenuity is better than thinking
the puppet-plays I act in give me new parts
a late foot a head full of order
that absence of joy I perceive as art
though I contrive to have no room for it
Sick: for Home
The best time to be homesick,
Is on your way home,
Any other time wouldn't allow you the joy of the experience!
Before the fall
Pain
Like rust
You confused it for salt
It felt as intense as pleasure
Joy
Like oil
You confused for molasses
It felt like a balm to all your wounds
Love
Like fire
You confused it for candlelight
It felt like you could blow it out
Cityscape with Pink Rose
I stop at the flower lady's cart
to see if she has roses. There are a few,
with straggling leaves. The blooms
are decent still, especially those in pink.
She interrupts her desultory lunch,
brushing crumbs from her sleeve, to slip
a long-stemmed pink from among the buds,
carries it to her work table, and deftly wraps
the stalk in a yellow paper, tying it,
gentle-fingered, with a thin red ribbon.
I watch her eyes as I buy; they are like
those in the face I love, but the spirit is closed:
she has dwelt upon disappointments.
As I turn away, I see in my mind's
eye, myself turning back to buy for her
one of her own roses. Ha! no doubt she must
Sixty-Eight
Across the river
geese arrive
by a moon's light,
setting its image
dancing beneath
trees — and so
we know joy
though the world
has no use for us.
At the Yuigahama Shore by Kamakura
Into the homelessness of the sea I awoke :
Oh, my heart of the wind and spray !
I am glad to be no-man to-day
With the laughter and dance of the sea-soul.
Dip the song of the sea and wind,
Throw it into my heart of longing !
I like to be with the clan of the waters and air :
Oh, my soul of the sea-soul and surge !
Roll in the wonder of the heart and sea, —
Oh, my joy of the sea-soul and flash !
Gather all the lights of the wind and sea,
To guard against the blackest night.
Hokku 37
To become tree-man,
Oh, songs given back by the winds !
What joy of no-man.
Loud Youth
There is a great, sweet golden bell in me —
It has a chime of flame, a flame so bright
I seem to walk forever in its light,
As gods do in their immortality.
Such a tremendous joy would come to be.
That chains would turn to wreaths of blowing white,
And crutches drop for wings to flare in flight,
If I could ring the bell that is in me.
Oh if I could ! The stars would shake — and suns
And moons collapse, and the hollow ways of death
Fill with enough of echo to revive
Such restlessness among the saintly ones,
That the oldest of them all would catch his breath
Remembering what it was to be alive!
Christmas
Christmas has come, let's eat and drink--
This is no time to sit and think;
Farewell to study, books and pen,
And welcome to all kinds of men.
Let all men now get rid of care,
And what one has let others share;
Then 'tis the same, no matter which
Of us is poor, or which is rich.
Let each man have enough this day,
Since those that can are glad to pay;
There's nothing now too rich or good
For poor men, not the King's own food.
Now like a singing bird my feet
Touch earth, and I must drink and eat.
Welcome to all men: I'll not care
What any of my fellows wear;
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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