|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
User Rating:
|
|
10.0
/10 (2 votes)
|
|
|
|
| |
At the foot of the mountain
I draw boot laces tight and climb
in search of the answer to the most asked and most mocked koan
what is the sound of one hand clapping I must know
and in the ascent I prepare for disappointment
for this I do know there is no guru waiting at the top
I know there is no answer to this koan or any koan
for if there were it would not be a koan
still I climb
because I suspect that if I may not know with assurance
then I may know peace and
after all isn't that the point
no that is not the point at all
it is selfish and
in fact pointless
still with head down
I place one foot above the other and climb
and the summit is distant and the summit is near
and I reach the summit of this great mountain
and reality tells me the summit is cold
and barren of life but mine
that no guru awaits that the guru is a mythical beast
like James Bond or Big Bad Leroy Brown
a summit with its air of foreverness
is a lonely place despite the vista
it offers nothing why must I know
because I must of course
because like a red wheel barrow
so much depends upon it it is cold
I am hungry and disappointed there is no way to prepare for disappointment
I must know because
because because
because bec ause
I must I take off my puffy down coat
I take off my shirt I take off my pants
and all else until I am naked
and I raise my arms Christ like and prepare
to end this journey with an answer
or die trying is it cold
am I not a man yes
it is friggin' cold and my manhood is but a little joke and my skin has gone blue and my teeth chatter until they are but broken chips
and I feel myself dying slowly
and rejoice in my dying it is my privilege to die
I am honored to die do I die for you
no I am not Christ
I am cold I am weak
and in my weakness I clap my hands together for the warmth
I clap my hands three times as if summoning a genie
I clap until one hand freezes and shatters and falls away into the void
I am left with one hand which I clap
and hear the sound of one hand clapping.
Hanque O . . .
| Submitted Date |
: |
Friday, May 01, 2009 |
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
Comments about this poem (A Monotonic Riff
by
Hanque O . . .
) |
|
|
surya . (5/13/2009 9:13:00 PM)
|
|
|
|
an interesting mistique poem.good write.posted 10
surya
|
|
|
William Stoneberger (5/7/2009 8:33:00 PM)
|
|
|
|
really wonderful piece here...the search for the answers that consume our lives... oh, what is the meaning? like the illusion to william carlos in there too...thanks...
|
|
|
Catrina Heart (5/5/2009 9:16:00 PM)
|
|
|
|
Why mountain climbers go always for the summit when there's nothing there except for the lovely vista? Is it the serenity that it brings? The delight you'll feel? Or the feeling of being in heaven even for the moment of peace? ................fabulous poem written!
|
|
|
delilah contrapunctal (5/5/2009 7:53:00 PM)
|
|
|
|
fine work, HqO.....thanks....
the sound....similar to one horse shoe landing in soft dust, is it: ?
Take care and be well........
love, D.
|
|
|
Tai Chi Italy (5/2/2009 12:12:00 PM)
|
|
|
|
Wow! I was with you every tentative step of the climb Jim...wonderful work. Smiling at you, one hand clapping in rapturous applause. Tai
|
|
|
Wojja Fink (5/2/2009 10:34:00 AM)
|
|
|
|
oh how I laughed at the summit,
and now I hear;
the sound of one voice laughing...in a sea of quiet koans...
|
|
|
Michael Shepherd (5/2/2009 5:35:00 AM)
|
|
|
|
Hanque, this is a 'serious delight' - what more could one ask of poetry?
Now I'll get around eagerly to the rest of your poetry..
Michael
|
|
Read all
7
comments >>
|
|
|
 |
 |
 |
|
|
 |
|