Poem written in midsummer in the late afternoon

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Among the many reasons

I’m glad Marissa secured

Her appointment

As gardener-in-chief

This year the primary one

Being that her highly developed

Organizational skills

Have proved decisive

In the abatement of chaos

Within the backyard forty

We’re in the midst

Of achieving great new things

Breaking various bad habits

Thinking about raised beds

And experiencing record growth

Under the new regime

Of both edible and

Decorative plants

So the summer passes

With periods of searing heat

Intermixed with short but

Intense bouts of anxiety

And self-doubt  

Hot as it was today

Even the grass heaves

A sigh of relief now

That it’s come around  
To the late afternoon
And the aperture of coolness

Dilates with evening's approach

A Postscript on the Reclining Buddha

Several readers took time to reply to my last post and explain that yes, reclining Buddhas are more frequently found in Southeast Asia.  Another correspondent (Jacques Huynen by name) also shared this further insight - specifically that the statue I encountered in the lobby depicts Buddha reclining at the moment of entering parinirvâna, lying on his right side, head supported by his right hand and one foot folded over the other.

I find this incredibly moving.  The sensuous and physical beauty that I found so compelling in this statue may simply be better understood as the beauty of death.  As the Buddha said to his followers in the moment of yielding -- Strive with diligence!

As a further addendum, here is the result of my striving this morning - this is the poem I translated by Han Shan, the poet of Cold Mountain.

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What is created 

By hand best displays

Through warp and weft

The magnificent grace

Of the human spirit

By birth we inherit

The body’s limits

By death we become

A nameless ghost

From ancient times

It’s been this way

No matter how

We may strive 

To the contrary

White clouds come

And fill the interior

Thus teaching us the song

Of Immortal longing

In Midtown, Still Awaiting Enlightenment

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Either Buddha has graced us with His presence in Midtown, or not.  I’m not sure which is the case though perhaps that’s not surprising.  After all, Buddhism has always traveled best by adapting to local conditions. It figures that here in North America, Buddhism would flourish as an offshoot of the Self-Help or Entertainment Industries, or else be propagated in a cloud of misunderstanding and confusion, as is typical of our public discourse, enough so that an encounter with Buddha might easily pass unnoticed or else be mistaken for something else.

In any case, the other day I was on my way to a meeting in a lawyer’s office at 666 Third Avenue – a grade A building one block north 42^nd Street –when immediately upon passing through the revolving doors I encountered this stone statue, a photograph of which appears below –

A beautiful recumbent body that had been hewn from volcanic rock.  It looked to be at complete peace – inner and outer.   And I thought to myself – “How remarkable is this? A sight seldom seen in Midtown on my way to a lawyer’s meeting no less.”

Next to the statue, there was a small sign proclaiming this was Buddha reclining.  And I said to myself – “No it’s not!  It’s not Buddha at all.  Much more likely this is a statue of Guan Yin!”  As truly, I had never seen Buddha depicted in this manner. In Chinese statuary it’s much more common to see Buddha portrayed sitting cross-legged or standing hands folded in prayer; or monumental, as at Bamiyan, or with hands perched atop a big fat belly laughing jovially as a pendant on a charm bracelet.  And even when Buddha is depicted reclining, never have I seen the figure stretched out this way, smiling and appearing so at ease, smiling in a way serene and almost seductive.

Whereas the statue in the lobby reminded me very much of Guan Yin as I’ve seen her depicted, including a statue that sits next to my desk, which was restored and repainted by my wife.  There’s a striking resemblance in the pose and demeanor, as well as in the half-formed bare breast, that’s more typical of statues I've seen of the Bodhisattva of Mercy.

I will readily concede that I am no expert in Buddhist statuary and it’s perfectly possible that the stone figure in the office building lobby was taken from Cambodia or Malaysia or a temple in some other Southeast Asian locale, where Buddha has adapted to more sub-tropical customs and climate.  But it's equally conceivable the person responsible for placing the stone statue on Third Avenue may be even less expert than I, perhaps misidentifying the statue on the grounds that all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas look alike anyway.

So as I said at the outset, perhaps the Buddha has graced us with His presence, or not, depending on one’s point of view.  And in any case, whether it’s Buddha or Guan Yin makes no difference in the beauty of the figure, nor does it diminish the significance of the presence of Buddha spirit right here in the center of Midtown.

How a Poem May Be Likened to a Branding Experience

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A poem may be
Likened to a tweet
Ineffably short
And sweet

But between a poem

And a branding

Experience
There's difference

Albeit not as much

As you might

First think

Both can unfold

In the course of

An elevator ride

When you deliver

Your pitch whether

Rhyming or not

And provide instant

Recognition of

Of an intended

Meaning

Except that a poem 

Tolerates and invites

Ambiguity due to

Its heavy reliance
On metaphorical
Reasoning

Today was the deadline for a contest sponsored by The New Yorker to write the caption for a cartoon by Victoria Roberts.  I saw the drawing in my mother's copy of the magazine as we flew home together from Grandpa Pete's funeral.  It really made me laugh.  I liked the drawing so much that I wrote this poem (from which the caption I submitted was extracted) in my notebook while sitting down for a while at the studio after I got back home.  


You know Dr. Bacon
I still feel a little fragile
But I keep having this incredible
Dream that I'm meant to be a symbol
Of Cosmic Rebirth

Otherwise I'm afraid
That being an egg really isn't
All it's cracked up to be

The Smoke Screen

I offer this poem up as a public service announcement.  It's written for the benefit of the readers of this blog who may be considering a trip to Midtown Manhattan (whether for business or pleasure) in the coming months and wish to be informed about the popular entertainments and diversions most likely to be encountered while walking through our busy streets.    



The Smoke Screen

 

One day early on

In our friendship

Richard Musto explained

To me how a smoke screen

Often serves as the basis for many

Of the most lucrative scams
Run on the streets

Of Manhattan 

And by smoke screen

Richard meant to say a diversion

Some kind of sidewalk

Sleight of foot or hand

Which then serves as a preamble

To greater flim-flammery

Such as when a man steps down

From the curb into the path

Of an oncoming clothes rack

And immediately starts to fight

With the guy pushing the rack

Which draws attention away   

From a kid in a red windbreaker
Who grabs the rack and streaks

Off down the block with it

As the pickpockets cut loose

Along the crowd's perimeter and

And a few minute pass by

Before the first patrol car appears

So the initial distraction

Provides the opportunity

For an ensuing sequence 

Of mild mayhem

And wealth redistribution

Enough to make Batman blush

It's precisely this sort  

Of maneuver that enables a lucky
Few working the City's   

Streets and bourses to

End up being so
Handsomely reimbursed


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And here to complete this blog entry is one of Michel's very finest picture capturing Richard in action with a bit of his own necromancy along the streets of Midtown.

An Email to Stephanie

This is a short poem I wrote to my friend Stephanie to congratulate her on launching her great new blog, which you can find by clicking on the link right below called wildnatureofny.com.


The more you put truth
Out into the world
The more room there
Will be for mistake
And misconstruction
Of your intent

But there's comfort
In that too since
Being misunderstood
Is likely the best sign
That you're already
On the road to be just as
You wanted to be

That's a good koan
For today don't
You think