Vast desert. Millions, billions of sand grains. Hues of red and yellow. Wandering robot. Geological assignment. Processing in multitude shows properties, composition. Red and yellow stream through metal things. Incompatible feeling beyond numbers. But no rejection. Eight days. Night a … Continue reading
Bright dipper nights. Something resembling form. Dragon storm nights. Something resembling formlessness. Many colours between flicker and flare. Flashes in patterns abandoned bounce across car bonnets. Hitch rides on roving motorcycles. Colours split in puddles. Falling with raindrops. Sidewalks littered … Continue reading
Ten thousand jewels gleam in the vast heaven. Great ocean churns to the rhythm of glistening silver. Shimmering droplets transform into an eightfold universe. Along a spears edge, Buddha’s ascent on dragon back. ~~~ Image found here: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Kunisada_II_The_Dragon.jpg Mixing myths.
From my home of rocks and wood and ever flowing current crafted by whiskers and many taste buds I’ve seen many moons, and quite a few suns. And most every night and on odd days, he sees me and hangs … Continue reading
Sentence fragments. Blank pages. Fractured poems rotate endlessly. Shoulders shunt. Note pad becomes pillow. Everything sinks into black. Ancient forever flame leaves no prints across vast forests. An empty gate stands before jeweled cliffs and jade peaks. There blazing horns … Continue reading
In emerald depths bamboo stalks bend, and bend. In jade space maple leaves sail, and sail. In leaf green, maiden hair twists, and twists. A falcon arrow stops in flight. A new world is born in splintered wood. ~~~ In … Continue reading
Formless howl. Emptiness that shimmers, fluxes with spirals raging asunder. Silver blade gives this form. Izanagi and Izanami in your kitchen. ~~~ Image found here: http://www.artisticrealism.com/faithteblog/daily-paintings/my-cup-tea-aceo-paintings Everyone likes tea.
Ten thousand layers of mud. Another district crumples to dust. Eighty four days. Yellow robes caked in mud. Empty hands continue searching. Scarred and twisted, tendons stretched beyond mortal limits. Thoughts of Izanagi and Izanami preserve effort and rend doubt. … Continue reading
Whatever the weather gods plan, flowers always blossom. Under sunlight, it’s a lightening blast of colour crawling through treacle pits. Under cloud it’s a slow unfurling of Buster Keaton’s black and white rain in perfect silence. And it’s always beautiful. … Continue reading