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Tuesday, January 19, 2010

In ritual evil gets it's ego stroked



In ritual, evil gets it's ego stroked;






Fires attended in brassy censors,
Choking on expensive foreign smoke;
Incense from a dead god's pagoda.
Evil lives because we do not mind it;
We find it necessary to find a balance:
A world half in fire, and half in ice;
Good and evil held in a chalice.

In evil, man gets his karma coded;
Fires which started in his spinning core.
All his idols and statues got melted
So he sits and stares at a tattered mandala:
Though meditation gave him indigestion,
And worry beads worried too much.
He's not the sort to mind temptation;
He sits to wait for emancipation.

In man, abstraction has reached it's limit;
He's the whole world, and it's in him.
Enlightenment comes in a single minute;
His mind like wispy smoke spiraling upwards,
For questions always are answer seeking,
And answers elusive as desert rain:
The freedom you seek was never in death,
But free and invisible, as each breath.



2 comments:

  1. Such excellent commentary on the human condition. It reminds me of the saying: "Evil thrives when good men do nothing."

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  2. Grappling with thoughts as universal as these as well as you do is why you are an exceptional poet...and this an exceptional poem. I have been studying Faulkner lately (specifically "As I Lay Dying" )and realize that he deals with these grand themes in his prose the way you do in your poems. Well done fellow poet.

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