ox brome
laze his
trim and
tire infibulate
below and
water sink
his quinine
if she
arise pain
that spirit
heed the
noxious mud
where gastric
in her
bone only
a Bon
there seed

If the green grass wasn't washed up
                  on the shores of paradise.

I'd prefer to walk on the mud...

Hazy forest
A huge, solid snake slithers
betrayed by the grass

we walk through the garden
the one beside the house with the yellow door
watching the geese lay in their pond
then we look up at the night sky
gazing the wonders that are the stars
and you start singing
la vie en rose

the water ripples
you start skipping stones
the long grass brushed against our ankles
as if it were a cat, rubbing its head on us

the grass left a mark on my shoes
but it’s all right
because you left a mark on my heart.

To the humble ant,
A blade of grass is a tree,
In a vast forest.

when you think you know...

when you think that all is
as you know it
as you'd like it
there's something that happens then:

someone pulls your hand and shows you that
life
and
the world around you
is different than you thought.

that the grass' green is stronger
that the birds' flight is more beautiful than you could see it
and there's nothing left for you to do than... believe.

"believe and you shall see.
believe!
if you believe, you will see the flight and the sun's light and the sky's blues...

search without a fear, without a care and with no doubt.
you won't find the answer in an instant,
but it will come to you.
maybe only after 20 years in Tibet,
but it will surely come to you."

Just because you do not find the beauty
in words and poems,
in drawings and paintings,
in colors,
in the waves of the grass
or the bark of a tree,
does not mean
that I should not too.

I should not be out-casted
for finding beauty in things that
you do not.
My opinions do not change your view,
Why should yours change mine?

maybe, for once,
take the leap, take the chance
in finding beauty in something other than
what you think is normal.
Not until you take that chance
can you tell me that my views are wrong.

-the ballet of a dreamer j.j

A spiral of light, like music to my eyes
I spun out into the golden grass
The stars shining brightly above me
Only seconds ago the vortex that seemed to knock me down
I heard a laugh, but no one was there
Maybe it was the stars
The moon was too kind to laugh
My silver feet began to work again
Daring the stars to tip me twice
The dampened earth beneath my twirling soles
A cushion when the dare was done
I laid there then, but
Only long enough to find Pegasus
Until I heard the muffled steps and swishing grass
As others wandered from the trees
Their candles sad mirrors
Of the vortex in the sky
One by one they challenged the stars
That tucked them all in to a bed of laughter and golden grass
I watched as they disappeared beneath the waving fronds
Until I could feel the hands of the stars readying the finale
Pulling me into a spiral of sweat and lazy zephyrs
They too knew that this was the last dance
But still I whispered up to their shining choir
Daring them to stop time.
Their hands were on their pocket watches
Pulling out the gears
A wish so close to granting you could hear the crickets pause
Yet soon they stirred
The spiral pushed, but laughter pushed it back
No longer harmonizing to their melodic lights
I fell again
This time over a root
My silver feet tarnished to grey
And lost their shine walking back through the woods

They say that happy people don't have dead grass
But it feels like there is always a rain cloud over my head
The grass is still green
But I feel dead