Monthly Archives: January 2013

Castle of Mist

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We are wandering in a maze of empty motives, infertile soil, superficial determination.
Adamant over a droplet, floating over a sea of salt.
Courageous for water crackers,
forceful for feathers.
Caring over empty craters,
cowering under mindless debaters.  
Water a bare patch of soil while the fake fluorescent sun blinds with its watts.
Dedicated to a vanishing world, overrun with marketed thoughts.
Convinced to give up dreams, in favor of a false world and hollow word.
Chatter and clamor about immaterial, never to manifest concepts.

Effort for Wind.
Drifting directives, belief in meaningfulness invented out of nothingness.
A castle built of Mist. Defend it as though it is made of Diamond.
As though it holds a secret purpose no one knows. That no one will ever know.
Diamonds invisibly floating in the mist,
coating us with incandescent polish, so easily wiped off.
Glimmer while you can.
Keep your mind in this place of illusion – inside the lie we gleam.
Inside the lie, we are sane.

Stacks of puffy paper, crinkled edges.
We fight for dull green, wrinkled sheets, dirtied white, we fight.
To break out – Free yourself from the maddening cycle of what you’ve convinced yourself is real.
To realize just the opposite is true.
Your priorities placed for you, on a sheet of melting ice in the Castle of Mist.

Soul of Valor

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Absorbed into amorous eyes, glowing sad.

Subtle stumble upon the bumble bee of destiny, love-stung, supple, swollen, sweet honey.

Princely pride stolen from a shy, shielding stance.
Reaching face wielding the familiar unknown.
Feelings that are sown must relearn to be open.

Heaven’s rumble roars, heaving clamor into gated chambers and through closed doors.
Champion of sunken hearts, chiseled charms calling lovers to arms. Chance-start christens two parts under one star starting to fall.

Cucumber Wind

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Cool crisp cucumber wind,
Drifting children are drawn to the scent of refreshing refuge from the fall,
Down the cucumber mall,
Clean sweet slices of rejoicing silence,
Familiar, even to those who crawl,
Among fields of rice, one cucumber farm persists.
One place for the abandoned to be re-found,
One quiet man sprinkles seeds abound.

Muddy waters filter clean through the thick green cucumber skin.

Quiet mouths, peaceful minds, grow healthy cucumber rinds,
Delicate hands, happy hearts pull juice from the sand, filling the cucumber core.

Beyond the mountain, along the shore, the steamy fog sweeps in over-night,
Rejuvenating any memories lost or semblance of spite,
Tossing away any worries to a blur.

The only cure for a burdened soul, where a pure cucumber is all you own.
The earth owns your life, in return, you sown its land with cucumber for all.

Once lost, now among the same,
pulled from the earth in early spring to reclaim, the crystals of the soil,
cucumber queen and cucumber king.

Floral Arrangement

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Fervent Flowers; flourishing,
Dynasty of Petals; the crown seated a top an empire of ether.
Explosion of Pollen; exposing scent, bees are attent.
Storm of Stems; thunder of thirst swells growth.
Orchestra of Leaves; organic sound, shading the ground.
Bombardment of Buds; bustling, struggling for power.
Collaboration of Color; kingdoms unite, calling all eyes.
Water is their Inspiration, it forgives and soothes from the core outward.
Sun is their Salvation, it compels them toward enlightenment.
Wind is their Whisper, it calls to your nose and brushes past your ear.
You are not their owner.
You are a mere onlooker privileged by the magnificence of seemingly simple life.
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