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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.
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
to break out
into the Bright daylight
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.
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
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
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
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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