The Buddha of Limerick (Part Two)

As Sid Arthur began to grow old
He became wrinkled and, of course, he was bald
But he just kept on walking
And carried on talking
He was a wonderful sight to behold.

But we could see he was just getting thinner
So one night, when invited to dinner
He was given a fork
And a nice plate of pork
Perhaps he thought he was on to a winner.

But later that night Sid Arthur fell ill
He was sick and perhaps caught a chill
But it seemed indigestion
Was out the question
And, of course, Ananda lacked medical skills.

So, Sid Arthur just seemed to get worse
And Ananda became his main nurse
But Sid Athrur's main plan-a
Was to realise Nirvana
So Ananda went in search of a hearse.

After his death, Sid Arthur's monks disagreed
About the best way for them to proceed
Some said, "you must be a monk"
But others said "that's all bunk -
There is more than one way to succeed!".

So some of the monks buggered off
And others sat around just to scoff
Which is why the first schism
Had little "Buddh" but much "ism"
But a few wise ones just shrugged it off.

But in time the teachings they spread
And people listened to the things that were said
Whilst some joined the Sangha
Or a vihara in Bangor
A few just when right off their head.

So please spare a thought for dear Sid
It's amazing what that geezer did
He discovered a spiritual way
On a full-moon in May
Which 'ain't bad for a prince with a kid.

The Art of Survival

Congratulations to all of us kids who were born in the 1940's, 50s, 60s and 70s!

First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us.
They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a tin, and didn't get tested for diabetes.

Then after that trauma, our cots and toys were covered with brightly coloured lead-based paints and we still survived!

We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets - not to mention the risks we took hitch-hiking and swinging on those dodgy "Tarzan" rope and tyre swings out over the river.

As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags. Riding in the back of a van - loose - was always great fun. We drank water direct from the garden hose and not from a bottle. We shared one soft drink with four friends from one bottle and no one actually died as a result!

We ate cakes, white bread and real butter and drank pop with sugar in it but we weren't overweight because...we were always playing outside! We would leave home in the morning and play all day - as long as we were back home when the streetlights came on. No one could reach us all day but we were OK.

We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps of wood and old pram wheels from the tip and then ride downhill at speed - only to discover we forgot the include brakes! But after running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.

We didn't have Playstations, Nitendos, X-boxes, or video games. There were no 999 channels on cable, no videotape movies, no surround sound, no mobile phones, text messaging or internet chat rooms. What we did have were real friends and gangs and played outdoors.

We fell out of trees, cut our knees, broke both bones and teeth but there were never any lawsuits following these accidents. We played with worms and mud pies made from dirt - and we didn't catch a life-treatening disease because of it.

We made up games with sticks and tennis balls, and even though we were told it could happen "if we weren't careful" - we never poked anyone's eyes out. We picked teams and not everyone made it into the "best" team. Those kids who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment - imagine that! We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell - or we just yelled for them.

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of - they actually sided with the local bobby!

This generation has produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever! The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas. We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility - and we learned how to deal with it all.

With thanks to Rod Brans and Michael Cripps for this post.

Costa Geriatrica

Costa Geriatrica

Sun and sky
a bright and breezy
way to go

Here in the sixth century, Saint Tudno built his rough stone oratory for ascestic prayer and gave his name to Llandudno. It is now a genteel resort, where the Grand, the Imperial, the Hydra, the King George and many more stand carefully preserved in pastel stucco.

"Boots" and "Ostler"
bell pushes
which no longer work

However, the grim trio of sickness, old age and death are still muffled by deep pile carpets and the relentless keeping-up-of-appearances.

New, expensive and well-cut
how they hang
on these poor wasted clothes-horses

"Well, can't complain you know - must look on the bright side!" Tartan rugs are tucked firmly in. The polite young Welsh waitresses and hotel staff are adept at jollying the customers along.

Stretched between the headlands of the Great Orme and the Little Orme lies the elegant curve of the promenade. Wheelchairs and walking sticks in endless cavalcade. Electrically propelled ancients whiz about like pond skaters. After sixty-five years I can promenade my own nostalgia. The St Seiriol, with its raked yellow funnels, steaming in from Liverpool Bay, with the band playing. Deck chairs striped like my dad's pyjamas or the ribbon round his straw boater. Noisy day trippers flood onto the pier - "Not our class", says my mother. In widowhood she outliuves a succession of genteel fortune hunters before bone cancer finally gets her.

Come the evening, then as now, out to a "show" - a therapeutic trip down Memory Lane. The Pier Pavilion, the Arcadia, or, on a warm summer's evening, the Happy Valley Open Air Theatre. "The Home Front - Songs & Sounds of the Second Worlds War". And still they foxtrot at the thes dansants at the Palais Ballroom.

Well-bred laughter
growing brittle
in the narrowing life

Tea-time is another grateful ritual. At Habits tearooms and terrace the regulars are at their favourite tables selecting their favourite cakes. The trolleys are pushed by pert waitresses in black, with starched white pinafores and lace headdresses. A frail but perky old fellow limps from his wheelchair to enjoy his daily6 peach melba. Opposite, at a corner table, a hard-faced but characterful woman stirs her Earl Grey tea. Bone china and purple eye shadow - she knows a thing or two. Old age is not for softies. Her husband sits hunched opposite, their silence proclaiming a marriage long outlived.

Navy blazer
jaws clenched
he stares into the blue beyond

Unseen, but right before him, floats Saint Tudno's seagull, sunlight through its wings.

Ken Jones (July 2007)

This post is written in the form of a "Haibun" - a Japanese inspired combination of haiku poetry and prose, a style originally attributed to the 17th Century Japanese Buddhist monk-poet Basho. Ken Jones is a Zen Buddhist and a recognised exponent of the modern haibun.

The Buddha of Limerick (Part One)

Sid Arthur gave us all such a fright
He turned into a Buddha one night
So we all said, "Strewth!
He says he knows the Truth
Now he'll be talking about it all night!"

So I said to Sid Arthur, "Tell me more
This Truth that you've found - what's it for ?"
He said, "It's all about pain
Without which there's no gain"
And I said, "Ere, I think I've heard that before!"

But Sid Arthur 's rather clever you see
And he talked about how to be free
From the pains of this life
With its troubles and strife
Then he said, "Shave your head - follow me!"

But I wasn't entirely convinced
After all, Sid Arthur had once been a prince
So it seemed pretty odd
That now he might be a god
And it's troubled my mind ever since!

So I said, "Sid, what's this truth all about ?
It's mighty important no doubt
As you look so serene
If you know what I mean
So what's your secret - come on, spit it out!"

But Sid Arthur didn't utter a word
So I sat there and felt like a nerd
Then after what seemed like an hour
He held up a flower
And just smiled - it seemed so absurd!

But I did follow Sid Arthur after all
Though life with him 'ain't exactly a ball
But I get to travel a lot
With my robe and my pot
It seems that next week, we are off to Nepal!