Poems of the Month, May 2018: Saint Marcus, Breakfast Time, Saturday

SAINT MARCUS
(the one holding the book)

Stay close to your God
and you cannot do anything
REALLY stupid.

In my case this means
“Namo Amida Butsu”
sixty thousand times.

“As long as you say
Nembutsu you will be
admired and respected.”
Maria makes the muesli.
Sunshine on the garden wall.

Your ‘calculating’ mind
knocks down more than it builds.
Let me be your guide.

I need your help, Amida
to get my day started
on the right foot.

After ninety days
of sleepless worship,
two hours in bed
can be fun. I recommend
a room for One.

Energy is important.
Thinking steals it.
Reciting gives it back.

Veranda at dawn.
First light in heaven.
Frigidaire hums. Nirvana.

Strong moon of Cancer
visible, pale and lovely,
in the April sky.

If you listen hard
you will hear the universe
recite Nembutsu.

“Namo Amida Butsu”
the only answer
to Amida’s call.
For Diane

Amida organizes
my life on highly
favourable terms.

It’s partly a question
of sitting back and
letting Him do his work.

“IF I’m an angel
as you whispered on the stairs
must I aim to be good?”
“I don’t think you understood.
You’re not an angel with wings
but a dawn blackbird who sings.”

Amida shuffles the cards.
Each day he gives me
a brand new deal.

Am I the right man
in the right place,
doing the right thing,
refraining from unwise
actions that hurt myself?

Nothing can go seriously
wrong when rhododendrons
are in bloom.

MARIO SAYS
“God wants me to be
happy, joyous and free”
on life’s choppy sea.

STRUCTURE
(a beginning)
“What shall I do,Amida?”
“Lie down at Maria’s feet.
Sweep your side of the street.”

NICE THING
about the Pure Land
You’ll recognize
and know the names
of everyone
you’ve ever met.

What has Love taught me?
There’s no peace for the wicked.
Kevin Barry was no coward.
Shut up and keep swimming.
It all works out in the end.

Good karma, bad karma,
does it really matter
now that we say Nembutsu?

By the Grace of God
I am awake, alive
and sober. A new day.

MARCUS CUMBERLEGE
Bruges Free City Poet
My nameday, 25 April ’18.


BREAKFAST TIME
27 April ’18.

RIDDLE
Stop complaining
about your wife
who’s always complaining –
it’s your fault.

People who complain
about people who complain
are travellers
on the wrong train.

ACCEPTANCE
(Chinese wisdom)
You cannot change
the direction of the wind,
but you can adjust your sail.

Eleven years after
getting it from John
I’m reading Goethe’s Faust.

Ah! Now have I
but one Bare hour
to live – and then
my Soulmate arrives.
I hurry from the shower.

Marcus, the man
who meditates naked
on ice floes
in the Arctic.

NEUROTIC
For Pete’s sake go out
into the garden
and say
20 nembutsus.

Poor little spider!
I can see you want to
climb into Kuan Yin’s hair.

When a good idea
comes into your head
for once
do it straight away.

I AM … being helped
by countless bodhisattvas
disguised as angels.

Diane has a pretty
high vision of me, but
frankly I don’t.

EL NO-NACIDO
I’ll be born in bed
with teddy bears at my head
and the Bible being read.

With a grateful heart
I look back at Anabel
giving me advice.

I get the feeling
God is active in my life,
a caring presence.

“Drop everything
and rest in her presence
until you feel better.”


SATURDAY

Moon of my Marriage
Quintile Mars and Pluto
For all my Exes and Crosses

Trust that God supplies you
with unlimited good.
There is grain left in the field
even after the harvest.
Linus Mundy,
Keep-Life-Simple Therapy

I need your help, Amida
to get my day started
on the right foot.
🙂

After ninety days
of worship, the fun is done.
You’re ‘hot’ as the Sun,
burnt out
in the heart’s deep core,
in love with the girl next door
and the Virgin of the Poor.
(Bruges, the Marian City).

I awake at two,
in the year of twist and shout,
a mass of “unresolved doubt”
screaming to be let out.
Somehow I get to the John
and pull a sweater on.
There’s a Black Cat on the roof.

Be my Sukria!
The captive Muslim housewife
with a dark soul on fire
with unsatisfied desire
who feeds me when you’re in IRE.

“Drink your tea Markitos”
sings a sexy Soulmate
with a clavicymbal
“Before it gets too late.”
Where the bloody hell IS it?
That was a welcome visit. 

TRABAJO!!!
Get up them winding stairs
to Pluto’s den and send
three poems to the world of men:
marcus cumberlege is alive,
the Queen of Maria’s hive.

CLOCK TIME
“Geen wonder dat ik Grumpy ben.
I may not C my wife again.
Nadine’s pills will keep me cool and Zen.
Take it with a pinch of FUN.
The Sun will shine by half past ten.”

for Diana Madrid
k.i.s.s. Keep it Simple Stupid
Uranus and Jupiter in harmony
decide to tell the truth at last.
Another nite has nearly passed
without an alcoholic drink. It
makes you think. Korea on the brink.

A toilet stop is now required.
You’re fired, dear patient planet Saturn,
the guardian angel at the door.
I’m wired, and ready for the show.
Puta. A tiny crucifix appears
among the dust of ages in the carpet.

Today I’ll be agreeable. I’ll wash,
not criticize your tendency to criticize.

All right Markitos, that’s enough.
Now go away and do your stuff
with any of your favourite floozies
before the going gets too rough.

Liefde is luisteren
naar Zakenvrouw en Zot
in Café en Kot.

Se ha marchado, dank zij God.
Ella y yo solos por fin, trabajando
en distintas partes: administracion
y artes. Todo con calma, Gardel.
Un hombre pacífico at last.

GRACIAS A VOSOTRAS
Emotional stability!
Thirty-five years of constant practice
studying the rudiments of behaviour.
And then a Guatemalan saviour.

My Spanish angel rescues me again:
“Amoldarme de acuerdo
con TUS deseos y las de Luna Blanca,
paloma triste que trabaja con pincel.
Yo Cúpido, tú Diosa del Amor.
I’ll try to be less ‘clever’, pray for Muriel,
say what I truly believe – and leave.

Giving each other, me and my mother,
‘pieces of our minds’
we turn out the lights and draw the blinds.

You simply cannot imagine
the pleasure it gives me
to watch you move through the fair
with your delicate air.