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Kevin J Taylor Jul 2017
The first poem takes place during the lifetime of Lord Buddha.

The second poem follows in the years soon after Lord Buddha left his body.

The third poem is the mind of the boy (the spirit of the boy in the first poem) in restless meditation. He has yet to attain full enlightenment. There are multiple voices suggested by parentheses and which are whispered words. If you prefer linear thought or literal interpretation this poem may not communicate to you. Just as a painting may be abstract, this poem is wide open to your own connections, thoughts and emotions. If you like, you can skip to the fourth poem.

The fourth poem, in three lines, lies within this portion of eternity that is forever present time.


Boy runner (the first poem)
"""""""""""""
Approaching Siddhartha where he sat a
boy examined him politely (this-that?)
Siddhartha spoke and there the unnamed boy
who sitting a while with him that day thought
and over the days ahead returned and
leaving only for food, drink and service
that Siddhartha would not be distracted
from his goal until upon returning
he saw him glowing in the morning light
and so began to dance with him beneath
the tree. A leaf was shed, was gathered then
and the boy, who while tucking it away,
Siddhartha asked if he would run for him
to village, crossroads, field, grove, wherever
Siddhartha wished to speak. And so he ran,
and soon arriving, announcing thus his
coming, holding high the leaf he carried
and which had never died, living— living
green until Lord Buddha left his body.


Depths of Green (the second poem)
""""""""""""""""""""
Depths of green—from canopy to forest floor
In streams of raucous livingness
And there, and where about, a sanctuary
Falls in heaps, in stone walls run aground.

And with, nearby, afar, by ins and outs
Through every place (perceived)
Wherever listened for—vibration.

A single voice in Pali—a single voice
Leaping, leading, dancing, sweeping.

Hello. You greet me.


And if I split myself and stand (the third poem)
""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
And if I split myself and stand
At every corner of said universe
On any selfsame summer day
With any selfsame afternoon rain
Will this, though thought, slip
Where densities of interest fail
(Or by failures to perceive )

This leaf-boy-runner
Eight portions of beingness
The full and fill of prime creation
(Perhaps where life has paused
Or slowed enough to perceive
At any speed

The speed of perception
The true speed of light
The wavelengths of laughter
And of any thing )

While density shifts
Where inertia has failed

(The density of my interest
The shift of my affinity )

There is no doubt
It has velocity
It gives back light
It bends the universe
It has location
From which expands
All space
Not already filled
With the logic of otherness
And even there it bends— It wills

As (my breadth of vision )
A torrent
An avalanche
A fissure in nothingness
A co-creation of All
This theatre
Our audience
Of stelae
Beacons of lostness
In search of wavelengths
Of affinity
Where you might
Where I have
The curves beneath our frequencies
The pitch and roll of their design
Their width

(We have
Each other )

In all that vastness
An ordinary leaf
From this
For that
(I am )

The breathless
Runner


Cool in the shade (the fourth poem)
"""""""""""""""""""""
Cool in the shade
(still) dancing
with Lord Buddha
.
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry with common things.)
Mo Issa Dec 2016
His hands stretched out as if in the
Shavasana pose, only he was
Wearing his old jeans, chequered shirt
Black laceless converse shoes
His head on the lush green grass
With Hesse’s Siddartha in his left hand
and a magical airbrush in his right hand
He gazed at the cloudless blue sky
Like an artist in front of a canvas
he drew the people he wanted in it,
The boy with the inquisitive big brown eyes
The girl at the bus stop carrying a tote bag
the things he wanted to do,
Climb the highest mountain peak
Do the tango in Buenos Aires
Vagabond across South America
the sunsets and the full moons he wanted to see
the reasons he was willing to suffer for
the smiles he wanted to have.
A masterpiece in the making
the outline took no more than a few minutes
but the finished piece took a lifetime to create.
Sean Hunt May 2016
Things coming and going at the  same  time
is the most sublime Rhyme

Einstein and Siddhartha  knew this
many years ago
They told us something that we just don't
really want to know  

Things coming and going at the same time
Is the most sublime  Rhyme

Bits of seconds  passing by
Keep on looking them in the eye  
Be here now,  time will fly
As bits of seconds pass you by

Things coming and going at the same  time
Is the most sublime Rhyme

When the earth quakes
And shakes the ground
Beneath your feet
Slip into the crack and don't look  back
Let your heart skip a  beat

Things coming and going at the same time
Is the most sublime Rhyme

Sean Hunt  May 8 2016
from a song I wrote called 'The Crack'

— The End —