Wisdom is Not Half-Baked
by JOSÉ TIRADO
We can ask the seasoned
How to identify the Great Silence-
That moist-warm womb at the heart of things.
A prayer book might get passed,
The hands waved over heads,
A tender look, a bleating lamb given.
Monuments have been raised trying to pass that torch.
Lamps were lit. In the algid flat air of knowledge
An idea or two might resonate. Aphorisms sometimes worked, too.
Still the noble walk secure,
The Good, with nary a p.r. man
Along the trails, where trees grow proper.
Some sit, inviting the shade to teach.
It does. Illimitably lacking science or spires,
Sprouting from that center, settled
Beneath the branches,
Atop the roasting, fecund earth.
Occasional thoughts from a playfully psychedelicized, green libertarian socialist, magickally agnostiChristian Jesus freak and bodhisattva-in-training. But who cares about categories anyway, right?
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Three poems by José
In this weekend's CounterPunch, the Poet's Basement section published three poems by my good friend and dharma-brother José. The first poem, my favorite, is re-published below.
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Thanks bro! I appreciate your support.
ReplyDeleteJosé