The Head of Buddha
The monks that first created me - centuries ago
Were very skillful craftsmen - and never had a foe
Between their toil they would meditate or say a little prayer
They chanted holy mantras – and fanned incense everywhere
When I was first erected – on the temple wall
My alloy was none-corrosive, and I stood two meters tall
I gleamed in the Asian Sunshine – and I felt so very proud
The dedication was quite special - and the fireworks were loud.
But as the centuries went by - and people learned to hate
I couldn’t begin to realize - what at last would be my fate
I’ve witnessed all kinds of atrocities; the monks fell on their knees
As army after army came crashing through the trees
This was a special holy place - with nature all around
And except for religious festivals - we rarely heard a sound
Then one day we heard machine guns - and screams as men fell dead
As guerillas fought with soldiers and turned the jungle green - to red
The whole thing proved so pointless – nothing much was gained
In winter there was fighting and in summer it just rained
The foreigner’s went home at last- leaving the natives with their plight
It seems they both regretted it – what good’s it do to fight!
The locals were so desperate – the economy was bad
They couldn’t make a living – to fight a war is really mad
And then one fateful day – a collector did the rounds
He told the locals we were valuable, and worth a thousand pounds
To steal a standing Buddha - could hardly be done
We were made of stone or solid bronze and weighed about a ton
You can’t hide a full sized statue – and if caught you’d be shoot dead
So the obvious solution was - to smash the body from the head
Now I’m no longer in the temple – in fact Asia’s far away
My head is mounted on a block - and nobody comes to pray
I decorate a sideboard – my head was all that they could sell
My body is in pieces – and lays in the jungle where it fell
My right hand is in a museum - and so is my left foot
My left hand had a genial pose - and was pictured in a book
Yes, I suppose I am an antique – and it’s hard to estimate my worth
But is that really why they crafted me - and put me on this earth
Albert Edward Gazeley © 2002
Author notes
This is of course a true sad story of what has happened in several Eastern countries – Vietnam Cambodia Laos and many more . . The heads of Buddha decorate the houses and museums in the West and the bodies standing or laying headless somewhere in Asia .
Written January 19th, 2002
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Dear Agazely,
I have marvelled at your poetry before and am grateful for a chance to read another from your pen, albeit five years after its conception.
In this day and age when narrative prose, chopped into short lines, passes as poetry, it is refreshing to read a poem with well-crafted meter and creative rhyming.
The content is articulate and powerful. Moreover it is prophetic and timely when considering current conditions in Burma (Myanmar).
As an example of really fine poetry, it is worthy of much wider reading than this site has evidently so far afforded it.
Applause and deep respect. Hugh Wyles.
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And when he in his lotus position appears so... serene too. Sociaty is stupidly numb to the diversity of faiths.Where in conflicts reside it seems. Loved your telling in verse of the travesity of humankinds folly.
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my God 58ooo body bags came home.multipe suicides never put on the wall.so many deaths from agent orange children with birth defects...PTSD wounds missing limbs broken people broken homes and marriages and this is what you find to mourn.Vietnam and Cambodia were at war many years before we entered so many tall german Vietnamese blond blue eyed poped up frequently. and the french....Buddhas were good men this would make them sad .I am sorry you are sad about this to each his or her own. We sent children to war.
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Moving words! Similar atrocities have been committed in Afghanistan and Tibet as well. The images from "Seven years in Tibet" flashed in my mind as I read your poem.
The spiritual message of the Buddha is invaluable and is far too fundamental in existence, to be hidden by mere destruction of statues.
With good wishes
Sau -
Deep and Moving...
This is really beautifully penned. I am moved and feel the emotions of sadness stirring inside me. I felt so sad to read about how one beautiful being has been separated into parts and scattered some here, some there. Not fair! I can feel the pain. The rhyme and flow of this poem was perfect. The picture of Buddha is precious.
Now for some critical comments...In the 7th stanza, a correction is in the calling...from 'shoot' to 'shot'. Also, at the end of the last line of this poem, there should be a '?'.
Thank you for sharing your work.
With warm regards,
Charishma Ramchandani
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I have taken many shocking photos of smashed Buddha's left laying in the Jungle - very sad – I may write another poem just to display some of the broken Buddha’s Albert.
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wonderful work... hats off to you...
I liked the poem very much.... what happened was sad... you potrayed it wonderfully.... and the poem was a great read... its sprituality made me fall in love with it... your rhymes were perfect too.. thanks for sharing..
s
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this was brilliantly written, and what a story, i was once told by a sri lankan, that a truck filled with explosives rammed into a local golden shrine of buddah that was very revered, it remained intact bar one little scratch high above, i would like to think that in any form, where it be the broken piences left on the jungle floor to their heads displayed without their bodies, the people who are ment ot be touched . will be
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A very complex way of demonstrating your ideas. This poem and the story behind it create a perfect parable for thr ravishes of war. Well composed and thought out with a powerful spiritual message. Tara
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So sad to see how often people are unwilling to respect each other and each others beliefs. This is often seen in the extreme in war, where atrocities are the order of the day. You have expressed this sensitively, telling a captivating story that leaves a wounded soul.
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i perfectly agree with what you write.... imagine an asian collector who orders a theft of a crucifix form a european church... what outrage that would cause!!!
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this was interesting I have to say, and you did a wonderfull job on it, you have such a form of expression and your passion comes out in the structer of it all, great work I loved it
Mortikie -
beautiful write.
what to say.....when i want to read a goooood poem i come to you and yet again you have stolen my very breath ....and that is why i keep come-ing back for more. some-day you may render me dead.
Edited on Jun 10, 3:21 p.m. because 'to add a period.'. -
this is so sad!! awful, i know not what to say... what astounds me even more is that NO ONE knew that this gem of a write is here hiding? you tell a sad story flawlessly.. indeed i'll need to come by daily for a couple of reads per visit because i love the style in which you write- i'm kickin myself for not doing so sooner!
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