Memorial

Beat, oh hammered and beat like brass like brass cymbals, those big ones, I saw a movie about Charlie Parker, Bird, they used big brass cymbals making their big brass sound for some symbolic artistic meaning, about how he was treated, beat like brass like heavy cymbals, hammered into the mortal form, why not?

Towered over with skyscrapers and cloud formations in the blue, rattling in subways through dark tunnels and on broken sidewalks in big crowds, ascending in high speed elevators to luxury carpets of the workplace and to Duke's deli on 51st Street with big steam tables and giant salmons both hot and cold, beat by the metropolitan hammers of modernity with new TV screens in the high speed elevators seducing the attention with stock market reports and showing eastern standard time, hammered and beat like brass cymbals clashing metal sounds of neverending mortality.

Unadorned

not polished stone
with bright reflections

but rough and ragged rock
of its own nature,

unadorned by intent,
rich in dominion

it does not
catch the eye
in magpie tinsel

of more than that
I cannot say

(Inspired by Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche's video teaching, http://www.shambhala.org/teachings/category.php?media=video "The Ice Cubes of Bodhi")