CurranPoem

Buddha Socks Days do not number The miss-steps of my soul’s journey Years and decades of seeking and searching Lost and looking—occasionally knowing Only for a moment with certainty Before the trance of daily life and doing the laundry Overshadow insights that would unlock The mystery of socks tumbling in the dryer Socks don’t know emotions— They just know our feet. They wrap our heels and toes unconditionally Paying no attention to the emotions of the moment The funeral, the wedding, another day at work— The socks are just there for us After a day of being very human We take them off and toss them into the laundry Perhaps socks Are the Buddha (I don’t know the original dates on this.   It is actually two separate poems which I found in old journals and merged into one poem   I luv it…)

The sun set today just as it did yesterday And just as I am sure it will set tomorrow When the sun rose this morning I was on my morning walk and I stopped To talk with a white bearded old man Who was combing his beard like it still Mattered how his beard looked and he Told me the story how his social security Check only covered food and he chose To live out of a locker rather then pay rent In this town which he can’t afford the rent And still eat but he was ok with that because That’s just the way it is and I think of The Gospel of Thomas were Jesus says The Kingdom Of God is laid out on Earth But people just don’t see it and I realized That the same morning sun Warming him to comb his beard Is the same sun that sent me on my walk And it is the same evening sun that would set On me in my warm bed and this gentle Old man in an alley where he feels safe

The First Question                             How do I know my sadness is real? How do I know my joy is real? How do I know that waiting for the bus to go to Kroger and buy chicken legs for dinner Is real?   STOP…Just get on the bus. Go to Kroger.   Buy the chicken legs. Go home and Cook them.   Pay attention to what you are doing.   If the grease catches fire, your house Will catch fire and burn down.   You will be sitting in the ashes wondering “Is this is real?” I assure you: it is real and reality will keep hitting you over the head till you wake up And realize that you have been asking the wrong questions. The Second Question She was 12 and lovely and Jewish Her parents adored her—a jewel in the family Her father strong—Her mother gentle The troops burned her village They entered her house What happened next was brutal She kept telling herself she loved God The next morning as she closed the eyes Of her mother and father, she did not

The Real 1%-- The real 1% is not the number Of corporations and people Who control the wealth of America The real 1% is our chance of survival As a mature planet in the Cosmos Which has conquered disease and death And war and poverty and fear and ignorance And built a world whose Civilization shines like a star It’s not impossible.   The odds are just against it Isolated pockets of people have done it “Love thy neighbor as thyself” Said a teacher who saw this Kingdom And promised that it might come But the lust and aggression, greed and power Which have worked so well for us as we emerged From the animal world are now our enemies As we struggle to control politics and economics And technology and media out of control The Buddha showed us that to tame the world We need to tame ourselves History, tyrants, communism and capitalism Should have showed us by now that the revolution Isn’t from the top down, it’s from the bott