My riches are here: Old robes and alms bowl,
With these I free myself from worldly toil,
With these I sow and plough the Dharma field,
And shatter all that wicked Maras yield,
My will is here: In wisdom genuine,
With resolve to soar beyond the three realms,
And sail across the cruel seas of greed
To halcyon shores of blissful Bodhi,
My heart is here: Amongst Tathagatas,
Firm in the lotus pond of Amita,
Day and night, it is wise within the Way,
Never in dust nor adrift and away.
Poem released into Public Domain
How come Stephen,
When do you forget defence?
Why don't you hack death with your golden boot?
Do not disappoint me,
Do not let me down Keshi,
Your crown is medal-made;
Roam not with lilliputians
Whose blazer is calico
Whose utensil is mud
Whose bread is shaft and husk
Whose shelter is raffia...
But dwell among the giants
Who parade st. Joseph street in damask
And pop wine in holy Michael Crescent.
There you truly belong,
Flaunt your crown among Moses and Elijahs,
Flirt among Marys and Maras.
Be not a pebble in any ghost's catapult,
You are the Kilimanjaro, who can headbutt?
Be not a pebble in any ghost's catapult;
When the woodpecker pecks all,
Does it also peck banana tree?
Be not a pebble in any ghost's catapult,
You are the anvil, which termite can consume?
No, I will not meet you in dream,
I will not meet you in trance and vision;
Because you gave all you had,
Our tryst shall be Paradise.
Till then and for now big boss:
Head to head, chest to chest, hand to hand;
Knuckle, knuckle, knuckle.
Auf Wiedersehen !
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