revision 2-19-2023

The poems which were sent yesterday do not read well as they were formatted by WordPress. I’m trying to reformat and send them out more cleanly. I thank you for your indulgence

“I had dreams in Technicolor of the vast cosmos as if I were looking through the James Webb space telescope as dream consciousness was exploring your question and wrote this down:

That which is

never really was

That which was

never will be

Nothing in between

No here

or now

Just this”. Issan

A moment,

careless in one direction,

precise in every

other facet,

cuts a finger,


cuts my this finger.

Eyes wide,

sucking in bright red tang,

forge a sword

and a green meadow

as I tumble


wide chip-strewn boulevards – Zenho

8 Deep Bows,

Issan and Zenho

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