Sometimes a short poem says in a few words what a long poem can only hope to accomplish. Today’s post contains such a poem. The poem is not a Zen Koan, but it is close to that form. The entries are called cases and there are one hundred such cases in The Blue Cliff Record. This volume was first compiled between the late tenth century and the mid-eleventh century during the Sung Dynasty in China. In case you are wondering, the title of the book comes from the name of the residence of Yuan Wu, a Ch’an master. In Japanese, Cha’an roughly translate as Zen. One of the more intriguing facts about The Blue Cliff Record is that it contains no fixed teachings, but rather the one hundred cases that themselves invite much commentary, and what the author calls “pointers,” and accompanied by verses and translator notes, including, “What are they worth? (meaning the monks). Phony Cha’an followers are as plentiful as hemp and millet.”
Please accept my modest contribution to the body of Buddhist literature.
Ordinary Genius
My hair on fire
I ran from the monastery bell
clanging time under the dog moon
The rain fell brushing my cheeks
like dragonfly wings
the gardens’ swirled sand
sucked at my ankles
I stubbed a toe on a black rock
blood in small flooding hours
voice hissing retreat
I would not come back
The escape burned ferociously
Background
Some of you know that I have been a practicing Buddhist for roughly thirty years. That’s enough time to encounter plenty of stories that take place in monasteries, debates that take place in them, and parables about monks who live in them. This is especially true of The Blue Cliff Record, a core Buddhist text dozens of cases including, for example, Nan Ch’uan Kills a Cat,” and “Chao Chou’s Big Turnips.” The cases, themselves, are somewhat like short poems. Take for instance the cat-killing case below. Just put in some line breaks, and voila, a poem.
At Nan Ch’uan’s place one day the monks of the eastern and western halls were arguing about a cat.
When Nan Ch’uan saw this, he then held up the cat and said, “If you can speak, then I will not kill it.”*
No one in the community replied; Nan Ch’uan cut the cat into two pieces.*Note: When the true imperative goes into effect, the ten directions are subdued. This old fellow has the capability to distinguish dragons from snakes.
The scene is vivid. That’s one quality I aimed for in “Ordinary Genius.” In both poems, the reader may feel adrift, perhaps frustrated, and probably eager for answers. If you want to pursue further, “Nan Ch’uan Kills a Cat” is the sixty-third case of The Blue Cliff Record.
Exploration 1: Why is the poem called “Ordinary Genius”?
Exploration 2: Why is the person in the poem “running from the monastery bell?”
Exploration 3: Is the cat-killing a moral act? Is the cat even real?
ReplyDeleteOn first reading I thought Ordinary Genius was a poem in The Blue Case. I thought, this sounds like a Catherine Stenzel poem.
We’re all geniuses at something so genius is ordinary when looked at that way. Chairman Joe is a genius at being Chairman Joe.
The person in the poem has figured out what exactly the monastery bell is. There is no longer any reason for her to be there. She must get home to save her cat.