Monday, May 7, 2012
PANANG
I met Buddha on 82nd street
it was an fortuitous meet.
He looked down at me, with eyes,
whose color I could not see.
A smile, an enigmatic shock:
Am I being mocked?
Whose hands seem as a relaxed joint
where fingers in opposite direction point.
Can I meditate and ask why?
About an Asian love that went awry.
Show me my nature this day
that drove my Asian lover away.
You have been asked a plea:
Do you have something to say to me?
Not about love Universal,
but about love Personal.
Can you only answer this task,
with inscrutable answers, I cannot grasp.
I fear I am not ready or worthy
to decipher your wisdom earthly.
For a love, I will never forget,
and a wound not healed,
with Buddha met.
©TPuma/MMXII
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This poem is captivating for me, very personal.
ReplyDeleteThe Buddha is one of many boyfriends I have that are a "beau ideal." Perhaps not physically at hand but, to me real enough. I am fantasy and relate, as I said, to this poem personally.
Simply put...I love this poem.
I would like these words written and framed.