Bikku under the Bodhi Tree (poem) by T. Wignesan on AuthorsDen

Bikku under the Bodhi Tree
by T. Wignesan → (All Poetry by T. Wignesan)
Thursday, August 18, 2022 Rated "G" by the Author.

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Kafka writing without a morrow van Gogh dabbing his tormented palette under the Arles sun Sartre turning the Nobel Prize down for teenage girls Siddhartha abandoning his body’s palace for the people’s pain

Bikku* under the Bodhi Tree yogi under the banyan tree yogi under the bodhi tree* bikku under the banyan tree waiting for release bikku in blissful nibbhana yogi in extinguishing moksha Penniless poet under the tenement roof Jazz organist under the pavement sky Struggling novelist under the Riviera blue* Russian ballerina under the American umbrella Apprentice painter under the Sistine Chapel Sculptor Underground waiting for the agent’s call burning Anne Frank manuscripts in an air-raid fire singular melodies drowned in the descending drone Kafka writing without a morrow van Gogh dabbing his tormented palette under the Arles sun Sartre turning the Nobel Prize down for teenage girls Siddhartha* abandoning his body’s palace for the people’s pain the common man unable to abandon his workload family bikku under the bodhi tree his body shrivelled under the saffron robe his begging bowl filled by karma-earning hands the last trichinosis-filled moksha meal* bikku rising on a thousand-petalled flower bikku piercing through the cakras’ splendrous colours bikku on a burning pyre [Notes: bikku: Buddhist monk Siddhartha: the Enlightened One, the Buddha * Bodhi tree: under which the Buddha found Enlightenment through meditation the struggling novelist on the Riviera: James Baldwin the Buddha died of eating a pork dish on account of trichinosis * "nibbhana" in Pali for "nirvana" in Sanskrit * "moksha" is the Hindu term for extinguishing one's Self from re-birth ] © T.Wignesan 1992 April 29, 1997, Posted on Poetrysoup.com site, Paris [from the collection : longhand notes (a binding of poems), 1999. REMINDER: Don't buy BLIND MAN'S LANTERN.]

Reviewed by T. Wignesan

Reviewed on August 20, 2022

Bonjour Monseigneur Don Ron ! Top of the morning to you. You'll gratefully note I've added some notes for your greater Enlightenment.

The curious question here: Aren't you taking grave chances with your furious followers splitting their spleen on my comment to your "splendid" almost one breathless-sentence poem, "Reaching the Top"???

I fear for you, Friend, for one or the other might sneak up on you with their bull-dozers climbing sky-piercing MOUNTAINS to dislodge you from your safe-meditative perch.

Many thanks for your inestimable courage. Now, re-read my poem, Don Ron.

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

I really like this one. You were at your peak in 1992. The plight of the religious man with a large family and nowhere to go but death, eventually. So tragic but true. Cool. I could identify.

Ron