The Tao of Talons Poem

The Tao of Word 8

Standing on my lap, this eagle
looks at me with childlike searching.
Talons faintly stroke my face

as if observing each expressive
curvature or cranial
horizon. Eyes the depth of sunlight

break into my own. Vision
sharper than the edge of love
itself is soaring through my bones.

~Feugill Poirier 2008

The Tao of an Eagle Poem

The Tao of Word 7

An eagle’s flight
reflecting light
and looking like

the gibbous moon
in late descending
afternoon

illumination
is the self
beyond the doomed

determination
of the fee
fie foe of ego.

~Feugill Poirier 2008

The Tao of Ocean Interlude: Plum Island Depths

The Tao of Word 6

Low tide: the beach becomes a desert.
The sun is January low
inside the noontime sky and winds
blow constant with their chilling knowledge.

Incessant energetic swells
creating chaos in a surf
the wind is turning back in quantum
curling spray before the crash:

I feel the blood inside my heart.
I sense the microscopic surge.
I’m overcome by waves of something
I’ll call light for lack of footing.

Wind explodes my every cell
apart from one another. All
that soon remains is consciousness
and rising in the east, this moon.

~Feugill Poirier 2008

The Tao of String Theory Poem

The Tao of Word 5

Don’t think about it. Let
your roots embrace the sub
atomic universe
like so much stringless theory.

Remember facts forget
the hard unhappiness
the bedrock cries

in continental
resonance
with planetary
frequency.

The worm is turning in
the top soil of your heart.
So let aeration in.

~Feugill Poirier 2008

The Tao of Knowing Poem

The Tao of Word 4

Beneath the bubble
bedecked in clothes,
belief, façade
and phobia,

beneath the drive
for ultimate
control, beneath

the antiseptic
heebie jeebies
masking something

underneath
unseen, unknown,
is all there is
that’s knowable.

~Feugill Poirier 2008

The Tao of Form Poem

The Tao of Word 3

The mind identifies
with form—

physical,
conceptual—

as if
the boiling universe,

like water in a
forgotten pot,

just disappeared from thought
one day,

but bubbles,
cartoon bubbles still

remained.
Except the trouble is

each bubble,
every bubble bursts,

bequeathing death
to every instant

in the life
of this misguided

mind,
completely unaware

the water in the pot is there.

~Feugill Poirier 2008

The Tao of Reality Poem

The Tao of Word 2

Given that the mind can never
comprehend the essence of
reality, it generates
a virtual reality,

reality we think is real,
reality we designate
reality, reality
that’s actually afraid to death

of actual reality,
that hungers to identify
with any form but genuine
reality in order to

convince itself it’s real. It isn’t.

~Feugill Poirier 2008

The Tao of Duality Poem

The Tao of Word 1

Tonight, which is the opposite of day,
I wish to think about duality,
while typing letters which create these words
in Word, a Microsoft word processor.

This personal computer is a perfect
metaphor for that, now come to think
about it. Everything within its world
becomes a binary determination.

Mind is that as well. Except its speed
exceeds ten thousand Buddhas times a Mega
Hertz that’s measured in a God knows what.
In other words, it’s really wicked fast.

But still, despite the engine underneath
the hood, the neighborhood is black and white.
There’s not a thought that’s not a mathematical
equation from a string of ones and zeroes.

But reality is not that way.

~Feugill Poirier 2007