The cacophony of the ancient silent poems
Railed to indecision and drought
Are but easily replenished at the well of supreme bliss and glory by a simple sip from the intoxicating brew of laconic brilliance
Eloquence my dear!…Eloquence!
—Styles— (hi! It’s really Buddha😉 hihi)
styles is buddha?
Right ya, on a trip to Spain 🇪🇸 I kept a journal and would sign it “Styles” for the rhyme with Miles. Big fan of Miles Davis. And “Buddha” was my nickname given to me in Montreal Qc by University students, I was practicing zazen sitting style Chan meditation outside in public parks downtown when I was homeless, 😄
Words are really great! But calling a style directly ‘Buddha’ feels a bit like stretching poetic freedom a bit too much, right? Words can be powerful, but true awareness goes far beyond just a ‘silver-tongued’ or sweet-talking style. Because sometimes, sweet words end up taking away a lot from us, while words that sting or pinch us end up teaching us and giving us so much. Don’t you think so?
Ahhhhhhh! I agree! And for clarification “Styles” is my signature I used in my journal in Spain. “Buddha” was my nickname in Montreal when I was homeless because I was always meditating in public parks lol, there are some guys called…”Buddha” ehm, one in the mob I can think of at some place some time and…..another I’ve seen on the TV too. YESSSS words are STRONG! The pen is reputed to be stronger than the sword indeed!😁