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Lotus Aug 2012
Posing squirrels
Legs crossed
Hands on hips
Chins held high
And a smile to drive
Your mind like
A merry-go-round!

Talking trees
Strong limbs
Thin and thick
******* for more space
Their high and low
Pitched voices
Sending thunders through
The ear-holes  
Of birds
Zigzagging
For escape
Through the branches

Dancing water
Taking form of the
Most beautiful treasures
The eye can behold
Then suddenly transforming
To a most frightening sight!
In one moment
A nymph strumming the
Horse gut strings
Of an oak guitar
An instant later
A giant serpent
All slim and
Venomous goo
With the head of
The death crone
The legs of a
Rooster
It's iguana tongue
Searching for
Your face!

You look at your own
Reflection in the mirror
You try to speak to
Yourself
Only you have
No mouth
No ears
No nose
No taste or voice
No ability to listen
No smell
But what's this!?
You ask...
My reflection has all these things!
And with the
Evil jest of a
Jealous twin
Your mirror self
Mocks you!
Poking out her tongue
Dancing to music
You can't hear
And making exaggerated
Sniffs of the
Perfume air...
All this
with only your
Eyes to see
What a nightmare!

Thank nature
Our imagination
Roams free in our head
Not physically in our world!
If that were the case...
What kind of world
Would we live in?
Skeletons wearing
Coconuts
Singing karaoke...
Hummingbirds
******* the juice
From our eyeballs...  
Again I say
Thank nature
Our imagination
Roams free in our head
Not freely
In our world!


*Inspired at a festival, while
I observed all the fun happening around.
Lotus Aug 2012
My palms rest
Upon the blackened trunk
Of a melancholy hawthorn
It's choked wood crumbling
Into dust
Falling between my fingers

I rest the side of my face
My good ear listening
For the tree's whispered secrets...

Through the tunnels of my ear
The plucking of a lute...
The kind voice of a lone minstrel....
Is echoed in every
Corner of my mind
Promising eternal memory

The minstrel sits under a tree
The same tree whose burned
Breast stands against my face
Only a thousand years in the past
When the hawthorns skin
Was a gold brown tan
Fresh and beautiful
When pink and white blossoms
Grew amongst its green leaves
Fresh and beautiful
When the young hawthorn's
Memory was still young
Fresh and beautiful....

The old minstrel
sat with his gnarled back
Against the hawthorn's body
Willow wood lute in hand
Face lined with
Twelve thousand wrinkles
White beard long and weathered
Old eyes conversing
With the overhanging branches

The old minstrel plucks the
Gut strings of his lute
As if plucking kisses
From a **** lover...
The lute
Being the minstrel's
Only companion
So many years....
Returning from the hawthorn's
Memory of the past
It drew tears from
My closed eyes

I kiss the burned
Body of the old tree...
Tasting ashes on my wet lips

I embrace the tree
All my love pouring through
This embrace
As if we were making love
Under the stormy
Smoky sky

With the ending sighs
Of my lungs
The hawthorn's
Last flow of water
The remaining embers
Burning black and blood red
Engulf both our bodies
Our wailing voices
Echoing for days....

All that is left
Two piles
Of gray ashes
One to keep the other company
In this melancholy
World....
Lotus Aug 2012
Pure waters of the river
Caressing
Flowing
Shaping stone to full-round curves
Arrow-straight lines
Sharp-jagged edges

Rhythmic sighs of summer wind
Inhaling the scent of dust
Exhaling transparent vapors
Of Nature's embrace

Silent rays of gold
Spying through the space between branches
Painting an image of bright dots
Floating on the surface
Of shaded stones

Amidst these delicate folds
Of Nature's cloth
Three jovial youths
In touch with the river's harmony
Stand
Their three pairs of feet bare

Three pairs of eyes closed
Seeing deep within their being

Three pairs of feet bare
Balancing with the stone's stillness beneath them

Three pairs of hands
Dancing in the air encircling them

Three pairs of mouths
Sharing deep breath with the summer wind...
Smiling
Lotus Jul 2012
Swish swash

Swish swash

Stare down into the

Soapy swirl

Of artificial detergent and bleach

A good place and space for lone thought

Contemplation

Swish swash

Swish swash

Soapy molecular

Foamy activity

Your clothes are being washed

For you to wear again

Why not wash through your head?

Wash away

The muck and yuck that sticks to your brain

Swish swash

Swish swash

It really helps, try it

Swish swash

Swish swash
Lotus Jul 2012
Bamboo sticks
Touching river stone
Producing echoes
To accompany the thundering
Of waterfall!
Lotus Jun 2012
Step with me, my friend
Behind the beating fast fall of water unending.
Here we are now,
Two souls in the echoing space
Between solid rock and falling curtain of water.
Hush now...
Do you feel the pulse
Of the Earth's flowing veins,
Coagulating with your own?
Listen....
Do you hear the murmur
Of forgotten voices
Kept in memory of stone walls
Surrounding us here?
They sing to you,
To me,
To whomever has the ears to listen,
Of moss and wheat meadows
The green blades dripping blood,
Spicy and cruel crimson in the sun.
Songs of deep sorrows unmendable,
Leaving the beating heart
Cold and transparent.
Songs of love,
Love felt to consume the mind,
Uniting lovers
A million in number,
Sharing passions unspoke of.
Listen.....
Here we are now,
Two souls in the echoing space
Between solid rock and falling curtain of water,
Listen......
Lotus Jun 2012
Mock-orange flowers
With stem and leaf
Of jade, moss green
Spring to life
Through cracks in stone
Silver and white
With Strawberry Fall's water
Filling its thirst.
Creeks of white foam flowing
Down steep falls and flat stones
The Earth's ****** curves
Sun-catching heat waves
Making the surface hot
Enough that would dry the skin fast.
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