The Elvis Haiku Pocket - fall '96 in manila, india, and borobodur

Why bother? In September '96 I set out for mostly familiar Asia ground. Friend Naya Kee had told me about composing a haiku every morning to start the day. I couldn't imagine adhering to the discipline of either time or length but I did want to diarize in a different way. The Elvis Haiku Pocket was composed in fits and starts through Manila, Northern India, Rajastan and Central Java. The length of each poem was predetermined by a whimsoccasional number generator
Sept. 29 Vancouver
Tears in new airport park
Wanting here and there
Can they converge?
Its workable

Sept. 30 Manila
Fitful night punctuated by CNN
"Peace process in jeopardy"
Needs a stronger drug
than the ache in my tooth

Oct. 7 Dharamsala, Northern India
Laundry line bisects the room
Ours for tonight
A home before the tent
At those heights
we'll gladly wear the dirt

Oct. 8 Dharamsala
We called on nobody home
We phoned on busy lines
As expected
Put a few days hiking between out calls
Extend our patience

Oct. 10 Dharamsala
Potato omelet with no garlic
They know us here
Mom cooks, dad glides slowly about
Will this be theirs someday
Two girls at play

Oct 10 Triund
Don't cry little sheep, its all downhill
from here to winter in the Punjab
You've dropped turdlets all the way
from Lahoul in search of
perfect grass

Oct. 11 Triund
Sunday best dressed and all "sir"
But surprise - they're from the slums of Delhi
Blew our "Rich Kid" stereotype.
"incongruous" is a word incongruous with India

Oct. 22 Kullu
When the guide says
"the pass is too hard". or
"my mother is sick"
we need a tea break to talk it out.
This happens at least three times per day

Oct. 23 Kasol
Uniquely fat and uncharming is
Madam Shiva commanding
her steamy diner.
Dark in the shadows of the sheer Parvati valley
Bright in the eyes of two pre-teen male staff
dancing food to tables

Oct. 24 Rashol
Black hands rub resin
Then "bumshiva"
and the chillum's aflame
Later a police check provokes a little paranoia but in textbook style declare your "personal stash" and bargain the fine down to 1,000 rupees.

Oct. 26 Chandrakhani
A good guide was Jaichanda
Set a reasonable pace up the 1100 metre climb
Orchestrated timely breaks at shade and water
Provided realistic estimates of time to next landmark.
At the police checkpoint he ran away

Oct. 27 Nagar
My feet are thawing after the long slushy descent from the pass.
My boots smell. One sock is bloody.
Hang myself out to sundry over 500 years of Nagar Castle Stone
Commanding a kingdom of corn and hay.

Oct. 28 Kullu
We didn't use the hotel room fireplace.
Remembering this is cool compared to the pending furnace of Rajasthan.
Doubt strikes!
But inertia prevails and we purchase express bus passage to Delhi.
So go light - can we trust our hiking gear to Pahar Ganj?

Oct. 28 Kullu
Fred and Sue are two
of maybe 200
Canadians camped out with Swami Ji
(Chandigarh boy made good)
"I caught the wave in Montreal" she recalls.
Riding it to what end?
What's important right now is "where can I get my shoes fixed."

Oct. 29 Delhi
Shot as he crossed his back lawn blessing the pilgrims
How his thin bespectacled face dominates in mural
I stand alone with Gandhi.
Do I cry empathetic to mankind's suffering?
Shoes back on I walk away and scorn the crowds who would invade my space.

Oct. 29 Train to Jaiselmer
Darkness falls so fast there are no shadows.
And quick relief from heat no AC can bring
Less fever in the pedestrian pace.
City noise less obtrusive when its source cannot be seen,
and conversely I enjoy greater anonymity
They cannot see the colour of my face.

Indian rail rocks us softly to sleep
Bedded down between clean sheets like no hotel
Tin tali trays collected and clean
Last teethbrushers scurrying
The toilet line winding its way among the between car smokers
So compliant this nation
"Don't pee when the train is in the station"

Lots of time - we can haggle the cheapest ride to the train stations
It's done - we're off - autorickshaw turning on a dime and speeding away
But oh we slow then stop and go
No movement for minutes like hours
Tick Tick watch the clock
How I hate to be late

"What's your program? Ours is 20 days.
You must visit the Taj - where are your children?"
They're primed, our neighboring family of 4 from Bihar.
Now they wear Canada flag pins proudly.
Are captured sporting our flashy sunglasses
Decorate Gail's forehead with bindi
We are lucky to cross paths with India at play.

Gold corn on the roofs of cool Kullu
Green squash dot the desert fields of Rajasthan
Makes our dehydrator seem redundant.

The air sits dead still
Though we rush through the desert in a comfortable coach -
windows wide and fans spinning
Dust coats my tongue
The air brushes my legs and face
though I sit dead still under the scorching sun
atop the Jaiselmer Fort.
Sweat drips from my face

Oct. 31 Jaiselmer
Morning on the roof of the Paradise
Fort Ramparts falling away to our left
Behind is the ornate Raj Palace
Between us a boring western breakfast -
limited fare incongruous with the upscale digs
I ask the big boss - sporting a Koh Samui baseball cap - and waving his arms he replies
"all you need is the view."

Considering a camel ride
"and recalling trepidation on an elephant in Nepal
and a horse on Saltspring:
a sensible fear.
An army helicopter soars overhead
dropping pink leaflets, while two hundred palace pigeons
thrash their wings in protest
Watching them fly I think
That too is something
I can't do.

Lotus light, long white beard
flowing the 'Fort' postmaster
welcomes - "sit here".
No glue to seal
No frank to feel
secure.
The telecommunication strike is over.
again post card sales are booming -
glossy at 4 Rups, dusty real at 2
But only a scratch and sniff card
could tell the whole truth.

Nov. 1 Jaiselmer
bhang lassi clarity strikes like
lightening on dusk pigeon chorus
from the palace turrets.
On channel two cricket boys
imitate heroes in the courtyard below.
Inspired to organize I calendar our remaining days.
Compose wandergrams to the world.
Stricken by the controllable smile -
give thanks for the speech of tongues.

Nov. 2 Jaiselmer
Silent sunset strikes down the day.
Subtle - pale colours, modest dunes,
humble camel herds heading home.
A packaged night in the desert -
jeep in and out - catered with all
the care that dal bhat requires.
A pyre of garbage burning bright
as we kiss the sand good-bye.

The 50,000 rupee wedding
will be subsidized by six brothers.
No Brahmin aestheticism for this one -
sweets, wine, the best of new clothes.
Dad's dead and Mom will be glad
when the last one's hitched.
Start saving for the education
of her 23 grandchildren.

Udaipur on the horizon promises further hanging out -
lakes, forts, food, puppet shows?
Follow the guide book for the second half of the trip -
hence no surprises?
Our desert fling encountered the fewest footprints -
or had the wind merely blown them away?

Nov. 3 Udaipur
Precipice of sick - flu symptoms -
reaction to malaria pills.
Add heat and I'm beat.
SO treat my feet to a chair
File the agenda for another day's care.
Or better still scrap it.
Redraw the map without it.
More white space.

Udaipur shines white washed, while
Jaiselmer glowed soft unadulterated sandstone.
We are almost Mediterranean.
Motorized dhows sweep the lake before us.
Rhythmic pounding of laundry on the ghats.
Broad arches crown us.
India is around the corner, but where?

Nov. 4 Udaipur
Our Belgian hotel managers have been at it for three months.
"A nice change from advertising."
She points us to the bhang shop, the bicycle rental, and a hotel with CNN.
Wish my sister could see this.

Nov. 5 Udaipur - Shilpgram
Air, breaks, seat
Checked out.
Peddle off
Unsteady at first - where are the gears.
Lookout!
Just step down for a minute and let all the fuss by.
Then get back on that horse.

Too tired after trekking to watch the parade.
but Rajasthan is the "cute waiter tour."
We show our respect with praise in the comments book,
small tips, and
a scoring system as complex
as that with which we rate the chappattis

Nov. 7 Udaipur - Shilpgram
"Super lassi" tied my tongue
for two days.
Acid like paranoia, physical sensations, and
orchestral accompaniment.
An irrevocable day of aural discovery,
trying to identify each of the parts.
Today, out the same window,
What symphony could possible appear?

Cute boys you couldn't take home
chat, invite cajole in
the language of your choice.
They'll never forget your name.
They're always on your way home.
They glad effortlessly along beside.
"Maybe tomorrow - I just can't say."

Nov. 10 Fatehpur Sikri
Indian army boys directing traffic
around the overturned tractor
scold riders on top of the bus
who scurry down only to scramble back
1/2 km up the road.
"No one is permitted to ride the roof."

"Charge to Agra. Stop at Fatehpur. Okay?"
"Is it inconvenient if I smoke?"
"Canada is a great country. But so very cold I believe"
"Your stop has arrived."
Bus friends we never lack.

It takes 3 days to fill
the 60 million litre 3rd story tank
which gravity drives the
200 fountains at Deeg palace.
Do the pumpers get 2 half days off per week.?

The fountain tank has 200 numbered holes
stopped by football sized wooden corks.
As each is popped, a bag of dye is added.
A rainbow explodes across the garden.

The 6 AM mist is breaking.
A painted stork emerges
feeding in our short grass
then altered spreads broad wings
strides strong hear pounding
I cannot be still.

The map is not precise locating the python sunning area.
Time of day and year are also ambiguous.
"How will we know when we're there?"

I wear the found peacock feather
wondering if I'll be mistaken for an official bird
but merely provoke questions about the Canada goose.

If we pay the tour guide X rupees
and each shop pays him Y
How often are we willing to stop?

Gail danced to the fan
But the bhang hits
Imagine how hard it was
to hear the parts.

The folding Alexa photo album
could be improved with one horizontal side.
"Open on your bedside table."

Banished from the bathroom
the giant cricket
leaps to a cactus
like another prickly leaf.

Nov. 14 Delhi
Sunrise, sunset on the world's
greatest monument to love.
And we were there!

"Agra"vation proves small headache
compared to the whopper on departure day.

Wanna get on the plan and go home.
Remember the good days?

We coulda spent big bucks
for a romantic finale
but chose Pahar Grunge instead.

Dancing in Madras or
retreating in Rishkesh
December is mine to spend.
Make it good currency.

We've not yet had
the "what's next" talk.
Rather alluding with plans
to share the trip photo album.

Nov. 14 Delhi - later
White noise - running toilet, emergency generator -
is much more tolerable than the chatter.
Indian or tourist - so much redundant information.

I almost vomited this morning
inhaling grease and curry fumes
en route to the train stations.
A midterm survival technique no doubt.

The booking clerk awaits
the South Korean family
considering the train options
she has patiently outlined.
And thanks me for
knowing what I want.

The Hare Rama Guest House strides ahead:
improved kitchen, covered dining,
tiled floors, incessant sweepers,
complete travel services.
Still the might oak it surrounds keeps pace.

Diwali dies slowly:
Firecrackers still exploding,
Coloured lights still shining,
Fly covered sweets still heavily discounted.
"Happy Diwali" should keep the touts at bay
for a couple more days.

New friends at Keventers many flavours milk bar.
Ketut from Bali visiting his 1/2 Finnish daughter in Dharamsala.
Ranjit two years back from 1/2 a lifetime in Canada.

If I want a place to come home to - and leave -
should I purchase a condo?
And then put a daughter, a business,
a life inside it.
How long would I stay.

Allah, not "anthropomorphically represented"
shines forth fro a myriad of inlaid stones
colouring the Taj walls.
Akbar the liberal thinker didn't get far
with his multi-faith dialogue.
But he sure was a greater architect.

Subtle or straight up?
The instrument plays a big part.
So does the band.
A drum for four hands.
A Tibetan bell which throws your voice.
Playin' in the Israeli symphony of
techno popular military dissent.

Nov. 15 Delhi
Back to making list, imposing deadlines.
I want it - but I don't.
Time to jump all the way in
Treat the next few years
as a solid framework for long term security.
Its no dirty word.

Nov. 18 Dharamsala
A maple leaf flies in Kangra -
1930's mission hospital
now the property of the people.
One of a number of real estate gems in the Valley
explains 'auntie' - the 87 tear old Queen of Finance.
Another funding lever for me?

There's a blessing every day
If we inform ourselves.
Like the super momo kitchen
tucked away behind the hospital.
Though my stomach rebels,
said treasure will have its time.
But count that blessing today.
And give that beggar a few rupees.

In the library courtyard young Tibetan men play hackeysack.
A constant stream of monks ambles through
but none stop for more than a curious look.
An errant sack strikes a purple robe -
no acknowledgment - no time-out.
Maybe monks have the wrong kind of shoes.

The small room is packed -
dim lit, smoked thick.
And the rumored band is here -
turbans and dreadlocks set to conspire.
Ten conversations drone, and then a music unfolds.
Egos surface, and are assuaged.
Voices speak, and are chorused.
Dig the cufflinks on that chillum smoker.

Nov. 20 Dharamsala
The young Tibetan woman doing a big pail of laundry
has had her hands exposed for much longer
than I did this AM. and its colder.
But she's technically superior -
short submerges - fingers barely touching the clothes.
Then on to the kitchen to slice potatoes.

Nov. 21 Dharamsala
Sending email across the world and getting no reply is frustrating
Am I not heard, or not loved?
I think I need to be heard -
what about those bills that need paying?
I 'm sure I need to be loved. As I love.

Three mutts descend on leftover lunch
CHOW DOWN.
But soon there's better fare
A DONKEY CHASE - they're off.
One smaller mutt, too meek to make
the initial grade, is poised
But so are the crows
Will the kingdom come to blows?

"Apples, oranges" the vendor's cry
And then 'hello' - he's caught my eye
So the wares come down - he's neck needs resting
I offer 4 rupes for 3 bananas - the waters testing
Back 'six' - 'okay five'
Our ends must jive.

My father's first car looked just like
the 1987 "Premiere' - the middle class
vehicle of choice in India.
Complete with plush interior. No seat belt
Altogether square.
Move the steering wheel and you're right back in the 50's

Nov. 22 Dharamsala
I am expecting a phone call.
Or should I say I left a message
requesting someone to call me back.
I don't attach too high a probability to my expectation.

They came to bless the big new
hole in front of the temple.
With clashes and bangs,
grunts and drones,
smoke and burning butter.
When they left men in turbans filled it in.

There's still time to shit
into that test tube and
get it to the lab before five
but the bathroom's full,
the tube's so small,
the pressure's on.
Try 0900 tomorrow

Nov. 23 Dharamsala
Haven't been trampoline dancing
in a while. But it doesn't show.
Daily walks up the hill.
Food aversion - even the German bakery
is loosing its charm.
Miss those moves.

Working up to a full body shower.
If the sun is right,
and the key appears,
and my nose rebels ....
Perhaps just a splash in the face.

Can I establish Linda's
as the place to be
on New Year's Day just by showing up?
Or must I also cut the ham?

Nov. 24 Dharamsala
Lots of fresh tarmac sticking
to my feet anticipating
VIP attendance at the Himalayan music fest.
Dept. of Tourism has the biggest billing.

I forgot my flashlight
But Remember
Two Frenchman who set out
from Chandrakhani pass after midnight
to beat the police check.

The local coffee table book
shows mainstreet McLeod
circa 994 looking might peaceful.
And not much of a skyline.

Nov. 25 DharamsalaOne's spiritual teacher
is the magnifying glass.
Without it
the sun will never ignite the paper.

Look upon your spiritual teacher
as faultless as a lover.
Have faith - be blessed.

Nov. 27 Dharamsala
Information re Gail's amoebae
is input to my care.
We share a health.

Spun the big prayer wheel
for Janet.
I heard eight rings.

"Half root canal
Four dollars.
Job completed in Toronto."

New friends are wired
and its cheaper to receive.

Mom keeps good connections
Nothing earthshaking
Just packaged gossip.

Janet's mother died.
I thought
Let's cover a little more ground together

Tibet marketing done
Ottawa is next.
Wrap it in some creative paperwork.

No more sticky fingers
Once they put real glue
on the aerograms.

Tibetan instrument with non ascending strings.
I must unfold the unique
harmonic possibilities.

Nov. 29 Dharamsala
Lines at the STD vendors
everyone calling North America
to wish them Happy Thanksgiving.

Jiang Zemin's in town, so
they proclaim a holiday, and
had a big demonstration.

The trekking operator
buys coffee, refunds money.
"Next year, I will escort you personally."

She came touring from Gujurat
and met him in Dharamsala.
Now for the parents.

Returning home in Dec.
Daughter in Mexico
Customers in Florida.
Hafta be with me.

Sometimes you need
an agendaless day
to appreciate pine forests
shimmering in the breeze.

My Tibetan partner
wants a bigger project -
participation and numbers.
I must defend small.

Peanuts in a washbasin
Roasting under a small hotpot
See and eat that treat.

Alexa expresses frustration
because she cannot email
her piano practices.
I request electronic chili.

Cohabiting with a mouse.
Gotta make my neighbors rooms more attractive.
Scatter cookie crumbs?

My fever breaks, so
I rotate the bed 90 degrees.
Sweet dreams are happening.

Successful Indians need
hard working wives
to run the business
while they entertain clients.

If your bad mind
has already had the curd
turn over your bowl
and refuse seconds.

Watch the people go by and pray.
For their home
for their journey
for their destination.

Taking other suffering strengthens our love.
Giving our wealth strengthens our compassion.
The order is critical.

Ritualize your giving.
Like the aristocratic Tibetans families
who offered tea to
monks during Norbulingka teachings.

Get used to letting go.
Practice by giving from one hand to the other
without hesitation.

Dec. 2 Dharamsala
A call from Buddhist Indonesia
Witness the Tibetan shaman at Borobodur
Dust off the dancing shoes

What's an Indonesian transition?
Haggling for sarong, cruising the pie shops of Sosoro,
one week as a Yogya man.

Dec. 3 Dharamsala
Start and end the day
with a disciplined posture
open up possibilities
mitigate agenda angst
breath the depth

When its 19:30,
and your host politely asks you to leave.
"Practice time"
You've found a kindred spirit.

We parade the streets
promoting world aids day
in 4 languages
young kids at the megaphone shout slogans

Macleod's 2 main streets
run parallel five metres apart.
Breakfast on the roof -
check out all the action

Dec. 4 Dharamsala
whiskey store has evening only hours,
and it hops!
All manner of customers
except Indian women.
"Four cold beers please."

The cheese factory was sold out
but the sunset vista was superb.
At $25/kilo added value is essential

Dreamt of losing control
on icy ski slopes.
Woke up and fell done the hill on my way to breakfast

The mendong has limited range -
the strings and little
venturing up the fretbaord.
Speed and embellishment
make the music distinct

Dust off the dancin shoes.
Prepare the gamelan hammers. Solicitations form Jakarta.
"We've a light airy house, with bikable!!!!!!!! streets"

Dec. 5 Dharamsala
Like other humans,
some monks can't stop talking
Others are attentive listeners.
Can you know a monk
well enough to dislike him?

Build a comfortable
one room house for $1000.
Live there rent free for five years
Then move to Kinnaur,
or maybe Taiwan

The cheesemaker slides her jsut washed hands under the mosquito netting d removes one of 200 aging kilo blocks.
And we taste.

Unannounced power outage
leaves everyone staring
at their computers.
"Could be an hour.
could be a day."
"As they like" I concur.

I love to hike with women
They're so organized, with lists.
Not fast, just focused
There are no women
running trekking businesses.

Frank advice from the
Tibetan Women's Association
for dealing with the Planning Council
Play tough with your money -
don't leak our project.

Dec 6 Dharamsala
Huge sunny boulders in front of the International Chai Shop
Dry laundry
Warm Chess players
Entertain scrambling school kids.
Already the shadows are invading

Dec 8 Dharamsala
No free pass to Indrahar
But we enjoy a Lakkagot night.
Shelter, wood, bottled water, precooked food.
Are we motivated by the pass pretense?

There's a clear line between
comfortably warm and bitterly cold
about 2 metres from the fire.
IN the morning a faint ember still glows.

They carried a shit shovel
but the ground was too hard.
They searched in vain
for a rock small enough to lift
They couldn't wait.

Two days of running shoe trekking
and my feet are tender.
Good excuse t hang out at home
and clean up the leftover chocolate and bickies.

Relearning the practice of patience.
Rerun those mendong lines again and again.
Get those picking patterns entrenched.
Feel those fretted notes.
I can hear the difference.

I joke about hanging our food
just as a mouse jumps out of my knapsack
"A bear would be preferable -
there's mice at home" we agree.

I want to respond to Gail's invite to phone,
but it means a walk,
and I recall what Alexa said.
"Hearing your voice makes me sad."

It comes - a wave - from the heart
up through the throat I could cry -
a call for help - or just be with it
That's my pain.

Making the leaving list
Ensure closure and continuity.
Envision what I want to happen here next year.
Am I going with the hope of some return?

Dec 9 Dharamsala
I get to the front of the bus ticket line, and wait:
For the backdoor customers,
for the phone call across the street,
"No tickets for a week."

The Planning council agrees
to write the support letter for my project.
A great weight is lifted.
Look ahead to September.
Will I be free, willing and able?

Dec 10 Dharamsala
Nobel Peace Prize Day.
Another Holiday. Any excuse.
Now that "I'm funded" questions surface.
Are these people over serviced?
Getting soft?
Remember my criteria -
"Some basic security - lots of fun"

Dec 13 Delhi
Hare Rama greets and trys gently
to sell a room on the party side.
I get what I want - and post hot shower sleep deep till 3 PM.
Another day is gone.

Its hard to get out of town
with everyone Kalachakra bound.
I score the last seat with a frown.
Yet I'm set for a change,
via the inevitable bounce down Route One

There's always something good
that I haven't tried on Malhota's menu
and today its Singapore fired rice. HOT
I attempt to mitigate with special dal.
Let's do a franchise on commercial drive.

One of Malhota's bule customers
leaves a quart bottle of Coke unfinished.
Me M is diverted by the cellphone - the catch is quickly divided.
Tin cups are hidden around the room

An Indian couple grace the crowd,
sit down on the same side of the table,
and start laughing!
His hand caresses her knee.
This is cultural intrusion -
but I really feel envy.

The master mendong maker also excels at boxes.
Travel homes.
Now I can take some new music with me.
What harmonica do I need to cover Bob Dylan?

Ranjit is on duty when I check into the Hare Rama.
He's politely addressing another bule in Hebrew
who spits out - with a strong Australian accent -
"I'm no fucking Israeli."

Dec 14 Delhi
Long winter shadows at noon in Connaught Circle
as the vendors gather.
No Tibetan sweeter sellers yet -
still sunny on the Dhaladar slopes.

Wool blankets over the windows
give me 24 hour night and sleep - anytime.
Rehearsal space.
A room full of meditation.
An intersection where no India can intrude.

Celebrate Guru Gobind'a birthday
with a pink turban
and a painted elephant.
Buy out the peanut vendor -
give them away.

Dec 15 Delhi
Last lassi, dearest dal, most savoury Singapore fried rice.
In the airport, all the duty free $1.50 Heineken I can drink.

First beer buzz - shabby airport lounge forgiven.
Dharamsala acquaintance acknowledged.
The marble floor hot with pacers.

Second beer blast
Waving the can around
with American friends
like we own the place.
Which we do.

The waiting room herd is seated.
Poised for the departure gate charge.

Stately Sikh,
white beard between blue suit and turban,
calmly taking it all in.

Osho disciples join my dinner table.
We find common ground in meditation practice.

Striped pressed business man
interrupts snugly young couple.
A phone number invades his subtle agenda.

They're at the post - Indian and Chinese.
Whites look puzzled.
Japanese remain calmly smoking.

Gone are the days when I refuse to buy duty free cigarettes as gifts.

16 Dec over the Indian Ocean
Fourth beer breather
One hour up
Not a Kazakstan of Saudi plane in the sky.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Heavily orchestrated sitar and table jam
on the Hindi channel.
Bangra, reggae, chaos.
Love those drum machines.

Dec 20 Yogyakarta
At the bus drivers side
Feet on the dash
Of the World, but not in it

Borobodur at sunrise glance
Japanese girls giggle quietly
Trainee tour guides rehearse
Then the lama sings

With Rinpoche credential
you can silence the world for thought
or provoke many voices in harmony.

Dec 23 Borobodur
Four lamas sit at the head table
The big guy picks his nose
The dharma class begins.

Scan the room.
Subtle tears flow, quiet lips move, silent fingers count.
Is it a cult?

Monk One appears 16, Jewish, and very fresh
He seems totally uninterested in the fixated audience.

Monk Two adjusts her robe to conceal cleavage.
White haired, but middle aged. she frowns frequently.

Monk Three begins each translation with "sooooooooooo"
monotones his way through, concludes with a big gasp.

Chinese sponsorship is critical for world peace.
Money's no problem.
Cultural security can't be compromised.

If I find my guru
And my guru doesn't find me
must I continue to shop?

A curtain of leaves
shimmers in the sunrise.
Its frequency touches a very special place.

Fly dead still on black pillar
Hoping in vain that the lizard has forgotten its glasses.

Sharon the Milan centre manager says
"Its been years sine I had a few minutes
with Lama Gangchen"

Dec 24 Yogyakarta
William the Dutch counselor
was inspired to sponsorship
by the same lama's dharma class.
He has two boys.

All the disciples relate weekly practice
without understanding.
After four days I have something to take home.

Paolo apologizes for his infant son's outbursts.
Someone responds "dealing with distraction builds discipline.
I think fondly of Alexa.

Borobodur bird cages chirp the day.
First sip kills the pain of a persistent fly
For now.

Each mudra offers strength
but none like the outstretched palm of generosity.
I've graduated beyond giving to beggars.

IN Dharmsala there were smiling lamas.
In Borobodur there were ecstatic disciples.
Does practice correlate with appearance?

Ecstasy retails for $22 to $50 US.
An Indonesian smuggler caught with 20,000 pills
earned $1.50 per.
Plus life.

Two preteen Aboriginal youth ostensibly seeking autographs
spit on the racist Australian MP.
Amnesty intervenes to prevent their incarceration.

Dec 26 Jakarta
Hyatt couch comfort.
I view the opulence.
Enjoy the recline, and Vivaldi drifting from the bar.
They don't know any other world.

Sunrise school kids attack Borobodur bules
with tape recorders requesting feedback on their English.
A field test before the written one.

Is the overt presence of so many Buddhist disciples
responsible for the warung criticism of non Islamic practices?
OR I have bought the Pansacila hype?

Take a deep breath.
And read Gail's email as concern not provocation.
Get ready to give by thinking generously.
Rattle that pocket change.

I'd still prefer a handshake to a hug
Is it the contact or the display that irritates?
A smiling invitation apparently reduces most of the risk.

Even after I respond to
"tell me something"
I feel like the lama has not listened.
He reiterates familiar ground.
What's an ego to do?

I want the disciples to thank themselves,
each other, the hotel, the locals,
anything but the lama.
To articulate something original.
I can't see what makes them happy.

Dec 31 Toronto bound
Jump, or inch in.
Either way temperatures will rise.
Back on invested territory.
Must learn how to respect that commitment rationally.
Manifest the generosity mudra.
Open wide.

Hard drivin' country monos a good bottom for the flight.
A gaggle of U of T boys tamed by the seat belt sign.
A sad parody of Canada.
I see drab all over the plane.

Did I wakeup this morning (at 0400)
and start working on the connection to myself.
Remember to incorporate some new pieces.
Plant some seeds in the lotus.
Grow, and become, some Buddhas

Every credible lakakarna has an official photographer -
was I looking for a white guy?
A glossy print of my expressive entry waits on my bungalow porch.
The negative gets thrown in too. Eventually.

"American woman stay away from me" -
the statue of liberty features prominently
in Canada's finest Vietnam war protest.
Thank god Air Canada is committed
to the development of national culture

Jan 9 Toronto
Tongues of many colours on Toronto subway
All snow stiff when the doors open -
thawing slowly as we speed across town.

Copyright Notice © 1996 Peter Gillies