Under the hum of streetlights, bicycle flutters gather,
the sheer grey range reconstitutes as starless black.
From the faraways and thoroughfares voices wail, near
and distant, chatters of sirens rattle through night black.
Through park lands peach blossoms twirl, and twirl,
even here the pine winds chant can be heard.
~~~
Hedges in dimensions perfect mark path edges,
flower beds in colours calculated rest in immaculate squares.
Gusts from four corners trail blossoms in ten directions,
iron shears cannot cut the pine wind.
~~~
Grey monoliths transform into black sentinels,
flutters of bicycles seek out the shop fronts,
radiant weaves of neon chatter bright,
the night tie just rolls, and rolls.
~~~
Jun 30, 2012
Jun 30, 2012 at 3:59 PM UTC
I
Under a hollow sky
grey worn concrete listens
scream of a solitary car.
“Just want to write something. anything. been too long. Mind, liquid pencil. You know.”
Jazz tickets on the dash.
(solo performer – no net over absurdity)
“Write about that..”
Street lamps recede infinitely
fathomless ether’s lost
slipstream of rust swallows all.
“See what he’s like first.”…”Your call.”
There’s a tug, a pull towards
the light and motion
the swirling abstraction
luminescent dance in glass and shadow
seeping out of brocades of steel and concrete
the city at night
night tides thick with colour.
“Empty road, inviting city. Very Kerouacian.”
Car screams a little louder.
The outskirts come into view.
II
Empty streets repeat in circle
asphalt constant self devouring.
Neon hums, street lamps chatter
sidewalk smoke ripples
reflections upon reflections.
Jazz tickets slide across the dash.
Chicken broth of ancient forever
rides night airs
long ago memories
fast filing seats, flavours upon flavours.
Logic abandoned
signs abandoned
knowing abandoned
we just follow the way.
Neon roar echoes in hollow factory caves
colourless flames abstract burn.
There, under the
Ashen Dragons gaze
empty seats, luck that can’t be passed up.
We eat noodles under starlight.
Ashen Dragon, indomitable
keeps flickering,
and flickering.
III
Stage lights roll.
Red light
hangs in dust.
In the hall, over the seats, over the stage.
Jazz tickets now stubs now becoming cranes.
Silence, bass ambles forth.
First steps turn into
stumbles, tumbles,
scrapes, hacks,
accumulation of mistakes
collective hang in red dust.
He tries everything. Arco, pizzicato,
bass as percussion – devoid thumps.
He’s patient though. Amidst the inferno,
there’s the sense, the knowing, he’ll find the way.
He stops. Stops seeking. Turns to sought.
IV (Musical Interlude)
A thread only he can see
faint, and fainter still gossamer.
bow swish arc, tentatively ensnared
dark enigma thread entwined among bow strings
a weave drawn into a screen
across the stage wall.
Abstractions start to turn into form.
Pizzicato dance
chips away,
immortal peaks of gleaming jade.
Arco slide
carves away,
innumerable valleys of shining emerald.
Tips and taps
river flows, duckweed and herons
hermit huts in forest and moss
troops of gibbons with melodious howls.
Tunings align with heavens changes
cherry blossoms bounce on singing winds
oriole songs drift through five willow forests
recluse paths swept clean of tumbled pine cones
pines rest under blankets of silent white.
Across the stage
crafted in pregnant emptiness
the ancient forever
in a down town dive.
Two cranes rest on a table.
V
Re-emergence under the
hollow sky.
“…there’s truth in abstraction.”
Ashen Dragon
still flickers.
Chicken broth
still lingers.
Empty seats,
still luck runs.
Noodles under starlight,
and sky grey caravans.
“Nice title…hanging around?”
“Catch the train back, gotta write this.”
“See you soon. Stay safe kid.”
Ashen eyes flicker
words clatter by under a neon gaze.
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 7:19 PM UTC
Open bramble gate, morning lets itself in,
eyes open in welcome. Water stirs – a
glance outside. A jade tiger rises,
blue herons fly to South Mountain.
~~~
Forage through herb abundance on South
Mountain sunlight pooled in cassia leaves.
It’s why you reclused here, hermitage entwined
in viridian mists. I find your footprints
headed to the clouds, so I leave this
poem on your wall and on a whim
ascend South Mountain ridges. Sticks
snap underfoot – blue herons startle away.
~~~
Boundless and empty to townsfolk,
South Mountain peaks. But here
immortals dance among indomitable pines.
Above the sun blue herons fly into
paper crumpled clouds – clouds the body,
clouds the wings. Sonorous bird song -
radiant clarity – makes mountain forests
sing, each beat moves the clouds, red
dust cleared from rivers and peaks,
ochre streams flood forests and fields,
canyons and gorges, jades and emeralds rise.
Petals scatter on crystalline swells, night
lengthens slowly – coldness wanders by
but I will linger here, a little longer.
Version 2
South Mountain peaks, boundless and empty to townsfolk.
But here immortals dance among indomitable pines.
Above the sun blue herons fly into paper folded clouds
- azure heaven change – clouds the body, clouds the wings.
Sonorous bird song radiant clarity – makes mountain forest sing,
each beat moves the clouds, red dust cleared from rivers
and peaks, ochre streams flood forests and fields,
canyons and gorges, jade and emerald rises.
Petals scatter on crystalline swells – night lengthens slowly -
coldness wanders by but I believe I will linger here, a little longer.
Version 3
South Mountain peaks, boundless and empty to townsfolk.
But here immortals dance among indomitable pines.
Above the sun blue herons fly into paper folded clouds
- azure heaven change – clouds the body, clouds the wings.
Sonorous bird songs radiant clarity – makes mountain forests sing,
each beat moves the clouds, red dust clears from rivers
and peaks. Streams of ochre flood forests and fields,
canyons and gorges, jades and emeralds rise.
Scattered petals on crystalline swells – night slowly lengthens -
coldness wanders by but I believe I will linger here, a little longer.
Jan 24, 2012
Jan 24, 2012 at 8:02 PM UTC
Autumn flares out, its flame burst clouds
strewn about misted cliff sides, loam whites
of winter taking their place. A stiff willow breeze,
ten thousand things withdrawn to burrows and immortal
pine heights. First snows stream down, duckweed carpets
of August fade, jade peeking through white. I embark
on the seasons final sail in hardening ice waters.
Til spring my sails will be folded, my raft in idleness.
~~~
Rafting on moon drenched river, avoiding cascades and crash of
rapids and falls. Silvered driftwood a warning. Silent glide of
mulberry oar through dark azure, another crafts sail in silhouette.
From the deck a black spectre dives below, stillness follows
splash, re-emergence, beak wrapped around a dazzling rainbow.
From my raft dangling lantern sways, trout swiping at
gathered moths – scatter and return, some from a far off realm.
Some trout in the net, others not. Luck or the way – who can tell?
~~~
Dusk colour gorge sheathed in
emerald blankets, rising into sheer
cliffs of auburn cinnabar, all
underpinned by the fathomless
flow of azure clarity. Snowy Egrets
nest in pine top heights clear of dust.
On white sand shores gibbons howl
towards squawking beach gulls, squabble
over landlocked trout – debate without end.
Peach blossom petals swirl on spring breeze
over carpets of jade inter cut by king
fisher blue zipping over duckweed. Oriole
song weaves in and out of mulberry branches.
In these vast and vague waters -
coves, creeks and streams all one,
a river dragon lives an undetermined
existence. Mud stirs below, merely a
catfish airing grievances.
Red tail flares in dirt,
my mulberry oar rows me back home.
Jan 15, 2012
Jan 15, 2012 at 8:13 AM UTC