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Tirado, Jose
Metaphysics at tea - A Poem
Four Poems
José M. Tirado Interviewed by Reijo Oksanen
Four New Poems On An Old Age
Gurdjieff's Possible Buddhist Influences
The Query´s Proper Direction and Other Poems
On Divine Attention

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Tirado, Jose
José M. Tirado




Rev. José M. Tirado is a poet, writer and Green activist. He is also a Shin Buddhist priest teaching in Iceland. His articles have appeared in CounterPunch, Swans Commentary, Dissident Voice, the Magazine of Green Social Thought: Synthesis/Regeneration and Gurdjieff Internet Guide.



He can be reached through his web site.
 

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The Query´s Proper Direction and Other Poems







The Query's Proper Direction





It is to the poem you must refer to, not me.



I am too small,



built of millions of little things connected by gravity, elements and simple chemicals.



The poem however, is made of possibilities,



Rich with freshly baked ideas and novel advances in dreaming,



rumors of wantonness and warmly defined cascades of rolling tears...



The poem is not the thing that moves out of my hand



onto the paper,



but the very thing in me that moves is the poem itself, stretching forth beyond time



and space



to break out



into the Bright daylight



of Being,



free and Visible as a form of itself,



as I am said to be a form, myself.







It is to the poem you must direct your questions to-



For I can only give "answers" and despite protestations, you will certainly settle for such - but you shouldn't.



For the poem will give much more than you ask



and you will leave



craving even more, junking your way to new questions, never tidying up your aches, your yearnings,



Or putting down your periods after she whispers her replies.





Gratitude





If I shared one half the joy I should feel



for being taken from life and all its pain,



to settle in the Land of Bliss,



and bask in the Inconceivable Light shining from all directions,



Then I would have twice the faith I do now,



sitting in this early morning sun,



long before the day starts



and my foolish self begins



once more...





The Daily Verse





There is not one day in my life



Where wind did not create a poem,



or a blue sky compose some song of sadness



(an ode to a life spent in solitary wonder),



While I merely watched the brilliant sparkle



of thousands of turning leaves



and felt the pain of millions of lives never resolved



to taking just one moment in the day to



open their hearts to see the Infinite Light



and Infinite Life



contained in every single experience.





The Sharp Eyes of the Last Philosophers Standing





It does not do to suggest



the air contains a vibrancy discernible to



sharp eyes.



The air instead, is vibrancy itself-



as are the eyes that capture every fluttering wing



attached to every nervous inhabitant of that windy realm.



Were there more than this,



the ease of discovery



would have nullified a million journeys towards meaning,



and cancelled out half the lives spent



in "understanding",



making the



philosophers still standing,



even poorer than their airy lives were before.





Verses on the Elephant Cup





In the water of the red elephant cup,



danced a thin reflection,



shaky with the pulse of my hand which held it,



of the elephant itself.



But the elephant itself,



itself is a mere drawing on clay



blown hot through the furnace it was placed in



and then retreived for a sale



to benefit some gentle, good charity.



The image on water, however,



is not this...



If I could say more,



they might make me God.











All poems © José M. Tirado 2004














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