Ikkyu Quotes

Like vanishing dew, a passing apparition or the sudden flash of lightning -- already gone -- thus should one regard one's self.

Beware, O wanderer, the road is walking too.

that stone Buddha deserves all the birdshit it gets I wave my skinny arms like a tall flower in the wind

Having no destination, I am never lost.

Many paths lead from the foot of the mountain, but at the peak we all gaze at the single bright moon.

Look at the cherry blossoms! Their color and scent fall with them, Are gone forever, Yet mindless The spring comes again.

sick of it whatever it's called sick of the names I dedicate every pore to what's here

it isn't that we're alone or not alone whose voice do you want mine? yours?

I'd love to give you something but what would help?

It's very difficult to look at the World and into your heart at the same time. In between, a life has passed.

Studying texts and stiff meditation can make you lose your Original Mind. A solitary tune by a fisherman, though, can be an invaluable treasure. Dusk rain on the river, the moon peeking in and out of the clouds; Elegant beyond words, he chants his songs night after night.

we're lost where the mind can't find us utterly lost

fucking flattery, success, money. I just sit back and suck my thumb.

don't hesitate get laid that's wisdom sitting around chanting what crap

Hearing a crow with no mouth Cry in the deep Darkness of the night, I feel a longing for My father before he was born.

clouds very high look not one word helped them get up there

don't wait for the man standing in the snow to cut off his arm help him now

I was like an old leafless tree until we met green buds burst and blossom now that I have you I'll never forget what I owe you

born born everything is always born thinking about it try not to

the wise know nothing at all well maybe one song

why is it all so beautiful this fake dream this craziness why?

I've burnt all the holy pages I used to carry but poems flare in my heart

pleasure pain are equal in a clear heart no mountain hides the moon

don’t worry please please how many times do I have to say it there’s no way not to be who you are and where.

this boat is and is not when it sinks both disappear

flowers are silent silence is silent the mind is a silent flower the silent flower of the world opens

I can see clouds a thousand miles away, hear ancient music in the pines.

even before trees rocks I was nothing when I'm dead nowhere I'll be nothing

Watching my four year old daughter dance I cannot break free of her.

all the bad things I do will go up in smoke and so will I

sometimes all I am is dark emptiness I can't hide in the sleeves of my own robes

I slipped it into your papers to see if you would notice.” The Zen master Ikkyu was once asked to write a distillation of the highest wisdom. He wrote only one word: Attention.

here I am simply trying to get into your head you think you were born you die what a pity

ten dumb years I wanted things to be different furious proud I still feel it

Studying texts and stiff meditation can make you lose your Original Mind. A solitary tune by a fisherman, though, can be an invaluable treasure.

One day a man of the people said to Zen Master Ikkyu: “Master, will you please write for me some maxims of the highest wisdom?” Ikkyu immediately took his brush and wrote the word “Attention.” “Is that all?” asked the man. “Will you not add something more?” Ikkyu then wrote twice running: “Attention. Attention.” “Well,” remarked the man rather irritably, “I really don’t see much depth or subtlety in what you have just written.” Then Ikkyu wrote the same word three times running: “Attention. Attention. Attention.” Half angered, the man demanded: “What does that word ‘Attention’ mean anyway?” And Ikkyu answered gently: “Attention means attention.”11

According to Zen legend, when a visitor asked the fifteenth-century master Ikkyu to write down a maxim of “the highest wisdom,” Ikkyu wrote one word: “Attention.” The visitor asked, irritably, “Is that all?” This time, Ikkyu wrote two words: “Attention. Attention.

cut off everything from everything stand here the soles of your feet the ground your brain in the black nothing between

for us no difference between reading eating singing making love not one thing or the other

father when I was a boy you left us now I forgive you

if there’s nowhere to rest at the end how can I get lost on the way?

no walls no roof no anything my house doesn’t get wet doesn’t get blown down

The Dalai Lama leaned forward. “Ikkyu taught us that it is possible to live at least part of our lives in a timeless, spaceless world where there is no birth and death, no coming and going,” he said softly. “A place where there is no separation in time, no distance in space, no barrier barring us from the ones we love, no glass wall between experience and our hearts.

The Zen master Ikkyu was once asked to write a distillation of the highest wisdom. He wrote only one word: Attention. The visitor was displeased. 'Is that all?' So Ikkyu obliged him. Two words now. Attention. Attention.

Spring night in winter. The door open to night air. A family walks by. A child laughs with glee. Night-Sit. I ponder an old phrase of Ikkyu's: The buddhadharma is also the Way of Tea. A bolt of lightning splits my brain open and I pour down into my own heart.

He asked me, as if looking for one definitive moment in time: 'How did Zen begin?' I pondered the matter a moment. 'Some say it started with a flower held up in the air, but you can't rely on formulas. Zen man Ikkyu was enlightened by the sound of a squawking crow.

Ordinary man to Zen Master Ikkyu: ‘‘Master, please write the maxims exemplifying the highest wisdom.’’ Ikkyu immediately writes the ideogram ‘‘Attention,’’ with his brush. The man asks, ‘‘Will you please add something more?’’ Ikkyu now writes, twice: ‘‘Attention. Attention.’’ The man remarks, with an edge, ‘‘There’s really not much depth or subtlety here.’’ Ikkyu then writes the same ideogram three times: ‘‘Attention. Attention. Attention.’’ The man now demands: ‘‘What does that word ‘Attention’ mean, anyway?’’ Ikkyu replies: ‘‘Attention means attention.

night after night after night stay up all night nothing but your own night

even before trees rocks I was nothing when I'm dead nowhere I'll be nothing all the bad things I do will go up in smoke and so will I if there's nowhere to rest at the end how can I get lost on the way?

Every day, priests minutely examine the Dharma And endlessly chant complicated sutras. Before doing that, though, they should learn How to read the love letters sent by The wind and rain, the snow and moon.

Just before Ninakawa passed away, Zen-master Ikkyu visited him. “Shall I lead you on?” Ikkyu asked. Ninakawa replied: “I came here alone and I go alone. What help could you be to me?” Ikkyu answered: “If you think you really come and go, that is your delusion. Let me show you the path on which there is no coming and no going.” With his words, Ikkyu had revealed the path so clearly that Ninakawa smiled and passed away

The temple was in a field of graves suddenly a pitiful-looking skeleton appeared and said: 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? Such deep musings Made me uneasy, I could not sleep. Towards dawn I dozed off... I found myself surrounded by a group of skeletons, acting as they had when they were still alive. 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. Still breathing, You feel animated, So a corpse in a field Seems to be something Apart from you. 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 things. A single moon Bright and clear In an unclouded sky; Yet we still stumble In the world's darkness. This world Is but A fleeting dream So why be alarmed At its evanescence? The vagaries of life, Though painful, Teach us Not to cling To this floating world. Why do people Lavish decoration On this set of bones, Destined to disappear Without a trace? The original body Must return to Its original place. Do not search For what cannot be found. 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! Relax, And the mind Runs wild; Control the world And you can cast it aside. Rain, hail, snow, and ice: All are different But when they fall They become to same water As the valley stream. The ways of proclaiming The Mind all vary, But the same heavenly truth Can be seen In each and every one. Cover your path With fallen pine needles So no one will be able To locate your True dwelling place. How vain, The endless funderals at the Cremation grounds of Mount Toribe! Don't the mourner realize That they will be next? 'Life is fleeeting!' We think at the sight Of smoke drifting from Mount Toribe, But when will we realize That we are in the same boat? All is in vain! This morning, A healthy friend; This evening, A wisp of cremation smoke. What a pity! Evening smoke from Mount Toribe Blown violently To and fro By the wind. When burned We become ashes, and earth when buried. Is it only our sins That remain behind? All the sins Committed In the Three Worlds Will fade away Together with me.

I’d love to give you something but what would help?

all koans just lead you on but not the delicious pussy of the young girls I go down on

one of you saved my satori paper I know it piece by piece you pasted it back together now watch me burn it once and for all

ten years of whorehouse joy I’m alone now in the mountains the pines are like a jail the wind scratches my skin Ikky

all the bad things I do will go up in smoke and so will I if

Nirvana? Whole new ball game.

The Zen master Ikkyu was once asked to write a distillation of the highest wisdom. He wrote only one word: Attention. The visitor was displeased. “Is that all?” So Ikkyu obliged him. Two words now. Attention. Attention.

Ikkyu takes a swig of black rum It's rough as Hell Nirvana!

Ikkyu sleeps under a canopy of trees head on a rock the deer walk softly past him, know he is precious they don't want to disturb him