Monday, June 09, 2008

Dead Guru Blues


"The blue mountains are of themselves blue mountains;

"The white clouds are of themselves white clouds."

Mountain-Buddha's body

My clouded eye

an eye anyway

Endless clouds

over the mountain ablazed

tracks are lost

tricks broken

tears wiped away

the body of space

takes countless forms

and returns to itself

one two three

as children count

as lovers do

one two three

jewels in simplicity

masks and mirors

fall as sand

no more becoming

seasons seen as such

winter doesn't turn into spring

wood into ash

ice into water

the big swearing buddy

originally Buddha

has lost the plot

the cursing guru

bullies shadows

and chases ghosts

empty ermitage

the true form of the teacher

has left

just the racket of bitterness

frustration and arrogance

to be heard

he buys into the game of thoughts

and takes big bites into dead bodies

tasty nasty feast

and yet

Blue and white

mountains and clouds


in stillness


Blogger oxeye said...

Pierre - I think I understand. Thank you.

8:11 PM  
Blogger Pierre Turlur said...

Yes oxeye, waving goodbye.

Thank you for visiting my old blog. Soon I shall have plenty of time to write cheap poetry, play the flute, and sit in the hot Japanese summer.

What are you up to now?

take care

6:04 AM  
Blogger oxeye said...

Pierre, I've come to believe that art is the best human communication possible. I love your poems, So why not continue to post them here for my benefit if for no other reason? As for me, I am continuing to shamelessly push my pictures at anyone who will look at them. And it's working. I will be showing my work in an art museum this summer, if only for a month. you too take care my friend.

9:44 PM  

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