Pusa's in the Rain

Now my hands just shake. Struggling to pull the plastic back. Waiting as the same eyes look on. But the rain, memories of the rain. You look gorgeous in the rain. “I have never stood in it for so long.” It can be good to stand in the rain. “Yes, yes it can. I like the rain now.” It can take just a moment to flip a coin. Was it the first or second kiss, that changed her mind? Or maybe it was the 5th, or tenth or that last one after so many more, or my hand tracing the black streak that lay across her face. Hands steadied to pull back the stray strands of hair. Telephone wires divide the sky here as they did there.
Always out of the rain just in time, or lucky enough to be caught by the most timely of rains. Running down your face, making it all glitter like your eyes. You keep saying the words I want to hear but have stopped expecting to come. Moving the way I wanted others to move but have given up on finding. Lips soft and you know how to feel and push. Always give a small kiss after the first long one, good advice. Advice remembered holding you in the crowd as music thumps. In the alley where we walk away from them all. And of course as we stand in the rain.
Fate throwing funny things my way when least expected. Throwing those things most needed, wanted and desired but only when not looked for only when the mind and heart are clear to see. I also know not where we are going but go together and out paths maybe smoother or at least flanked by brighter scenery. And faces first seen in just passing can come to be so much more. How could we ever have know? And never will we know where other faces glanced over and left behind may have gone.

The voices come and so I go
Waiting for those cold stares
From the smokey eyes.
And other lost boys found.
Bring them to play
With those who have been stories
Heard from behind
Or over endless tables in a thousand places.
Words made flesh never have the same shape
But how pleasing suprises can turn out to be
Raindrops down
Beats drop and hips can move
Eyes throw only glances
But lips don’t lie or seek to hide.
You say my poker face is blank
Yours vague as well but
Then the need is gone and the game dropped
Tomorrow I will see you
Even when tonight neither of us wants to go
So we stand, and speak much more
with our silence
As the rain falls down
Blue, always ever blue.
And I will learn to be water,
And the rain becomes me.

Coming to the uroburos

a pink rabbit not a white one, always have been, what about you? ecstatic joy brought from calm breath as hands weave through the air and eyes open to see the figure head. stopped, but never still, humming, humming gently or violently inside i cannot tell. i just know that i saw the flash that was not there and shall not return. so many flashes, but only ever one. my mind trying to catch me again, laying out trip lines of words. but i won't let it. madness is too much fun. i go back home and will see more of the faces that have not known me since i broke my mind and found that the pieces were more fun to play with than putting it back together. fun games to be played with wooden balls. makes some marks on the surface or just sit and stare at their grain, certainly cannot decide now, the coins have yet to fall. the inked one will appreciate the sound of madness, and we will want to swing and duck. give those in a suit a reason to respect or cross the street when they see crouchers on the street, they just won't understand or maybe i am being to hard on the shells. i kept going to sleep wondering what was missing. something off or wrong. i know the warmth hadn't always been there, hadn't even been there for long, but when it wasn't it seemed as if a world from before had disappeared. the price one pays for keeping the mind of water, for diving into everything. when you leave one pool for the next you are always changing the world entirely, always being born again. all you have ever known stripped away and replaced by the new. a price or a gift depending on the circumstance and the formation of the clouds. the stone floor rippled like water today, and exploded all over with sparks of color. i think everyone else just saw the unchanging grey, but they don't know that the walls aren't real. the world is just a cellophane wrapping around us, only getting its solidity and truth from those who don't bother to question or wont be washed away by wonder.

Wandering they did, they were given my chance.They took it and they ran, they ran to places beautiful. rivers pouring down mountains, tears pouring down like i could not imagine. i sat in the bars, ran in the streets danced with the girls and threw my words on the wall. he went and heard the stories of pain that no man should have to feel, and after, no one should want to or have to hear,but he did, she did, they did. they wanted to they went for it. he rode on gears that move and spin through sweat and tears that poured down their faces. she watched them bend the legs and place the bits so they could raise themselves to walk endlessly but always look down into that face they understood. i stood and painted or sat and spoke just to understand. pictures on a wall, no pain brought in so that they could learn to make it stop. not visions and words to prevent those who have died or suffered from having to die again. just there to hear and be with ones who didn't want to accept, those who want blue on their ankles and chose to put it on the walls. was i a waste, should i have tried to save a life. i did not try but maybe i did. she told me life wasn't worth living, i spent a week, or was it two, making her see how it was. showed her the first glimpses she had of a soft world. just as i showed the other ice fall from the sky for the first time and as we walked away from that last cigarette the dolphin swam away, not with a goodbye, as so often has been the case, through lack of acceptance or just lack of doubt that there will be another time to share. i kept that knife away, maybe just for a day, but giving a day to think just a little but more. did i save him, who sat, coming with no purpose not destination only a sound in the distance, after it had ended, to draw them in. we sat. them both with ink on their hands, but having seen so much, having given and cried and walked with those who had none and we only wanted to give all too. "i felt that they had given so much to me and i had nothing to give to them, and still they kept giving to me." the hearts seeming so right through the words they threw to us with miles behind. but then the eye that pierces and repulse comes back in. the voice from home that they said could not be seen as distant after to many voices had been seen as so, is and it hurts me, but seemingly only me as they put on the smiles that say yes, but twinge with the no. and the words fall like the petals of a flower bloomed and wilted too soon.
it came and went, i wanted to be and could not. so i ran when they went to rest, when the world had ended them. i ran through the streets to get away from them. i knew where i was going but did not know how. and so i had to stop, and turn and look and wait where i did not expect. i stopped to look in their eyes. thinking they would not know as i had, and i saw it. pupils clear and dark. like yours as we lay there tired, no want or strength to move (at least not in me), talking about those half close eyes and clear blue brows which made our hearts want to move. you to yours, and me to mine. i worried i had hurt you that time, but still i wanted and you seemed to want it too so that i would not wait, would not worry but jumped in to hold again.
i wanted to have a moment with those who knew because they were the ones who should. a moment came, others made it feel like it had gone in an instant, only in the pupils. gone when they blinked and the eyes spread again. she made such beauty, it made butterflys in my mind, swimming, not flying but swimming through the matter. she came in and pressed to pull back when i went to make it close, and came touching in wanting to tell through giving as i pulled away. they came from the place of so many others who are forgotten. the forgotten in the front of my mind, but not for them. letting them in i do not know them, tried to show them me. maybe made them understand and find a hope i looked for myself, maybe i just got them drunk.

She came in from the blue

"Make a wish"
Blue, the color of my life is blue. Voices coming, telling me to go. To wander and see. Things will be waiting. Taking their time to unfold. Go, it will be ready when you are back. Torn blue bags look just like yellow flowers, where birds must fight the wind and men sit to smoke while their sheep become models. Mountains distant, low and rolling. Before they stood all around like giants. No menace, only to show roads. Beijing and presents of Mongolian food. Watch out for the man in the green shirt, he wants to leave you with the bill. I will take you to the temple when i get back beautiful. You missed out on this trip but maybe there is still time for us. The crow caws as he is able to make his way forward at last.
Waving fans they dance and laugh and sing.
Fiddles and drums in the streets.
Final crescendo as the light has just died.
They smile wider when they see me.
She stands by my side.
The ring. The ring like hers.
Running through streets. Racing ahead. Red hair trailing. Sisters and brothers of before.
Childhood games.
"Zai lai."
"He wants me to take more pictures."
Take all you would like.
Dark rooms where light, light is the key.
You stand and breathe.
And the mind swims.
Children's day.
Still days ahead.
Places to be, days to travel.
The road is good she says.
We can go that way.

Rolling, rolling, rolling.
The clouds are perfect. Dragons streaking the sky. That's the kind of cloud i want to be. "The fluffy kind, like cotton candy." Men ride horses through the streets. Here we have found it. No desert, but certainly the village. "You just use your hands." Cut meat off the bone. "Gan bei." Another glass empty. I begin to feel it in the back of my head. The edges of my vision but i go on. It is so easy to get caught in the spirit. 4 races, we have three here now. Maybe i would have been the champion. Gotten to choose any of the women as my prize. "No punching, no kicking, anything else." Chase down a wolf, i want to hunt it with my hands. But no, no more. Retching, retching a green that should not leave the body. Just let me sleep, the world is too heavy for me right now. I hurt her. I've hurt myself. Maybe this time i will learn to stop.

And she came bacl. When my mind is broken she comes back. "What happened with your ex?" Too much love, too many problems, too much hurt and trying. The ring, the eyelash, even the walk brings back the memories. Sets the mind to trouble, causes noise and problems that i am not stable enough to deal with. Sand slips from underneath you so easily. Deserts are tricky, shifting places. You just have to keep going to prevent falling too much.

Lines divide the sky. What might have been and what has been.

She huddles behind, hiding from the cold, maybe hiding from the wings. She does remind me but it it certainly not her. Just another lovely girl. She is gone, our harms done to each other. I think it best our story ended. A drink it may be best we never have. If i win i get a horse he says, red. But blue is where my heart stays. Standing and just watching. I like your desert very much. The blue, and ocean alone in the desert. What, what can one say when all is in what was done. Always blue, brighter adn brighter. Driving on in the dark, but with the path of light so bright above. So, so many stars, one must stop to be lost. The cold moments, before so important, so consuming gone in an instant as you breath in all that light for just one second. Everywhere they leap out like flowers desperate to find a place in the sky. And their slow chanting, his just beneath the breath, reaches up also. The morning does not seem so dark, nor so cold, nor the body so tired. The path was dark, but following, following the light. Don't get lost in the dust for the ground below is not stable, cannot be in dream worlds where flowers seek to fly and stars come down to fill your lungs.

Stars may not come out
but light can be made to rise up.
Calm and sober, the light just plays.
Skin bronze and eyes that only shine
as they take in this light first seen.
I will go to bring more fuel.
"Yes, but please keep talking."
Why the dogs will not stop barking i do not know.
I so no reason they should with Chang-E
and the rabbit out to hear them sing.

And the road rolls on through landscape that bring memories of home, is that word has meaning more than just convenience i do not know. But i can feel her laughing and smiling behind. "Are we still in China?" Yes, if that word has and meaning beyond convenience. The candle keeps burning lower. A table littered with hours of a lifetime. The hills roll. Memories coming back and being made. I told you it would be beautiful, you just have to trust. "It has begun to rain." No, not rain. Rain doesn't bounce. The rain is hard yes, but that is not rain. "I have never seen it before, hail." I am very glad to have shown you. Drenched in just an instant. "I like rain that is hard, I love the sun after the rain." I can see, i can see the smile on your face brighter than the sun. As she stands starring up, smiling, i just watch. This moment is for appreciating the beauty of another in wonder.

I came looking, looking. Mind set. The path, i believed i already knew. She had been and i told myself would be again. But past smiles and glances, it did not go beyond. Walls preventing unspoken words from breaking through the lips. And so the mind closed a bit, the setteling came in. But the a girl, she came with us but seen only out of the corner of my eye. A skirt twirling. Sitting alone for those few moments. Musice stopped. Waiting for other minds to pull away from the beat and for bodies to gather. The alley glistens. Puddles and refuse. But we sat looking forward and began to dance. But the steps seem so much more natural. I will take you and you will go. And they come back. The moment over, what it was ment for passed. A day, a day spent to see you, to see you in the light to know what it may be to ride to have you by my side as skies change and views fly by. And the first smiles and laughs begin, and the first moments of knowing and seeing you.
And the coin drops as the light rises. I wait for you and we go. Travel begun but not to far.
What was i to know. Things started so quietly. Eagerness wanting you that first night. Your beauty a funny thing for me to come to know. At first unseen through the anxiety. Then like the unseen force of a magnet pushing me away. You were soft. It felt good to have you touch me and me touch you. The same smell in the evening and in the morning. But the images in the back of my head pulled me away. Stopped me from getting lost as i so wanted to. Lying on my knee, a sky so blue. I want to shout out to it, clouds pass on legs, and my fingers wind in your hair. Content, yes, happy, yes but i could not want you because in your voice i heard hers, in your walk saw hers and she is gone, is not wanted back or only with a friendly smile. And it was there to hurt me, to hurt you. It was there preventing the moment from coming to be, preventing it from being right till it broke me. Till it drove me to jump into the black hoping i could come out again with nothing clinging. And i did. Crawling wretching i was able to see you for the first time, see your beauty as your alone, see it so i could want it. "What happened?" I told you, but at that point it no longer mattered, it no longer clouded my eyes and yours no longer looked into mine. Riding, dancing, eating, talking and i wonder why your eyes no longer look. Did i hurt you that bad, are there things i don't remember. I keep smiling, you keep your eyes from being too open again. "I don't forget, I don't give a second chance." Not the yogi reaching in but the scorpion, or maybe just the man on the bank, your voice rising over the hum of the engine. Anothers eyes you cannot see through, and sometimes not even imagine that you may be missing something. Hands so scarred. The sting bringing no apprehension, not even a moment of hesitation before reaching back into the water no matter how many drops of mine have stained it already. Coming to want you after climbing back out, but gone. Gone like the one before that i came to see too late. Body so fine, eyes like smoke. Light rising, a look into your eyes and we part to see again but not to be again.
Ice fell, horses ran, we drank and laughed but not as the wonderland in my head teases it could have been. Do i regret? It would be a lie to say i didn't, a strike against you to help my pride. I wish i could have given you what i really am before i made you turn away. Not to save my pride, a concern long left behind, but because i think you would have liked it and it is nice to make you smile. But regret does nothing except pull at wounds so that scars cannot heal. So regret i wish to turn to lessons. Maube my mind won't be torn next time, maybe i won't have to jump into blackness just so i can crawl out to see clearly. Would have liked to hold you in the black dress or the white. Would have liked to have your hands around my waste for miles more than they rested there. But although my mind will keep making wonderlands it is for me to learn that they may only come from what may be not from dreams and untrod paths of what may have been.

Walking, slowly, away. The walk, the voice, shot back over the shoulder. I watch as she walks away down the alley and can only think, can only say i wrote about you today. They asked asked about what happened with us. "I feel bad for anyone that falls in love with her now." I think i am crazy enough that is could have worked. where we would have ended up, a dart on a map, a die thrown on a table. Better for us both? " I'm crazy, but Rabbit is crazier." Yes, crazy and i am not looking to come back. Thats why we could have had fun. A figure walking away. Red, and the light shines ahead and the small swagger. What might have been is an abstraction.

And the silhouette will stay. Sky turning blue, pale blue dress. The light goes out and your skin glows. "Mongolia seems so long ago." Yes, memories sitting in the head. Looks and words. Beginning we never know where it will end, ending we never know when it may begin again. A dolphin diving through the sand, swimming through the throbbing night, resting in the light of the rising sun. A sun that rises everyday to set everynight.

She was beautiful, she was crazy, she slept on the back of the motorcycle as i rode.

Letter to the lost

--o-- Tranquility- With tranquility, the small goes and the great -- --comes, with auspicious success.
-- -- Heaven and earth interacting is tranquility. Thus do leaders ----- administer the ways of heaven and earth assisting the
----- balance of heaven and earth to help
----- the people.
----- 6. Yin- When the citadel walls crumble into the moat, do not deploy the army. Trying to promulgate order from your own home town is shameful even if it is right.


Broken glass has stopped them all.
For what reason does this fighting go on.
You wanting to see the angry child still crying bitterly at his loneliness.
Me peering harder and harder for fangs being licked by a honeyed tongue.
The water speaks.
Today it has been everywhere, water touching all that i have.
The rain always helps me think
calms the mind
cools the fire
Does it help you?
So many accidents today.
We seek demons in each other. Not so that we may turn our backs and run, or shun the other, but always with words of guidance.
Attempts to right the steering of a ship we see headed for rocks.
I walk and stare
Caught for a moment by the reflection
brought by a passing light.
White and straight, but ah
so many paths at the end
breaking off to vanish in blackness.
Gone in an instant.
She was beautiful.
The MC asks for all the big eyed girls to holler.
I liked saying confusing things to her, it made her eyes go wider
She called me Superman, i think she said her name was Ruby, i just called her beautiful.
Broken glass strewn across the street. Trucks backed up for miles.
I like China because you can pee anywhere.
Can the nature of a strong love be that you always feel the need to be active in it.
That you cannot enjoy the calm and just sit?
I think it can.
It has been for me.
I had wanted to sleep outside.
Wake to the mountains,
maybe even with the sun.
Stand out under the night sky naked,
meditating through slow motion.
But his smile was so nice. His desire to shelter me apparently so genuine.
"The sky is black."
Chinese is a language of unfathomable depth and character contained in seeming simplicity.
Its strange the way they work.
No desire for the subtle interplay and buildup.
Stand off, put up barriers. Brush your teeth, wash your face, and climb into bed to sleep.
But then the first touch.
I can see a few stars. But only where they just break the mountaintops.
The heart of the sky still filled with the clinging afterstorm grey.
The ground would have been wet tonight.
I would have worried for Sleipnir.
My hands are my favorite tools. I think i learn best through them.
They all use too much tongue. Too much force and eagerness.
I am a fan of the subtle teasing dance. Waltzing slowly.
Advancing forward to feint back. Build to a crescendo through the circle steps not the straight line. Less fun when you just start smashing the gong from the start. Steps, a time and place for each.
With her, every moment not acting, not working i worried that maybe i could be doing more.
Never thinking that i didn't have to.
Then
after it had broken.
After we had each been ruined and put ourselves back together.
I went to see her.
And sitting, sitting at her feet
me playing my games, and her hers
i felt the calm without anxiety.
And i think she did to.
And so we lay side by side. I came to tell her that i finally understood.
That at last i was able to love her as a person and not as a girlfriend.
Leave some markers for the kiddies, ink suits me better. Maybe keep the blue one, always a soft spot for blue.
The knight of cups riding forth.
But lo, all of the water being spilled.
When your heart is made of fire
love feels like it should need constant motion.
Still fire is dead, a frozen flame.
I needed to be building you up or breaking you down. It is the only way my nature knows how to love.
Glass strewn on the road.
Pick up a shard
So beautiful, she was so beautiful.
Always the older women here.
Vagueness a necessary skill of the trade.
Age means nothing i have too many, why don't you tell me how old i am now.
So eager.
And its over.
No sense of satisfaction.
Those big beautiful eyes.
Chinese girls present a problem.
Hard to satisfy.
Squeamish and uncomfortable with you trying to please them.
A culture telling them sex is for the man.
Don't try to give them head, it just makes them nervous. Fuck and you are riddled with anxiety as "how painful" is muttered over and over again. Guilt, sometimes you even have to help assuage the guilt they feel at fucking a stranger. So few able to view sex as beautiful.
I put the shard of glass into my pocket. Maybe poke a hole in the condoms.
Knock up a beautiful chinese girl. Get my feet stuck down so i can come to love them. Give arranged marriage a shot. Maybe teach them to love life and pleasure a bit more. Share some intimacy, good for the both of us.
With moving feet one can only do so little good for another. But then again as Nietzsche said "To love only one is a barbarity exercised at the expense of all others."
Clouds are made all the more beautiful by the way they play with shadows.
If you mix all the good things together does it make it better or is it dabbling in Tabasco sauce and ice cream?
Tomorrow, honey and green tea. Sustenance enough.

Yin flows into yang
Goats standing by a river
the children come to sit
with their mother
watching
Light becomes dark
Where the tree bends low.
Carving at the edge
supported by quiet flow from behind.

Graffiti and noodles

"lei, bu lei." Hai hao. Press on. names thrown here and there. His hand sways along pointing to the mark he chooses to leave. Darting around, leaving black prints in their wake. Throw ups here, claim some turf for the crew. Bags being packed in anticipation. Black books passed around for sketches to be shared. We sit and wait, for what i don't know. Waiting for the magic hour to hit. Wait until you have to leave, then you know the rest of the world has begun to close. Closed eyelids give a much better surface to write on. Pushing on, a goal or destination, not one i know or think they do either. But certainly somewhere we must reach
If you paint on temple walls Buddha will strike you down. "No Buddha loves his hip-hop." Drop a beat to Amitovah. Hit the clappers, bang the drums to build up your fat rhythms. Shaolin is the sickest b-boy crew in China.
Crossing bridges where everyone loves each other forever. Everyone except the few.

"You are the last person i want
to see in the world.
I hate you so much, but thank you.
Why you always be in my way."

How many of us smoke. Better get at least two packs, make that three. Sit under their florescent lights, black books out. The old uigher just stands by my side looking down. Others stop to stare in too, an offense unacceptable in the lost home. The culture is just not the same here. Stand in the street. Spray your mind out on the wall, people might just stop to look for a moment. If you want to stay around don't touch the trains. You may end up getting a phone call in Shanghai. At least its not Japan, no one will kill themselves for you, but you won't be around.
Another pack finished. Watching it burn down slowly, hanging on the rim. Enough ash in this soup already i am sure. I watch it burn and we catch eyes for a moment. Understanding need not be spoken.
He can translate for me even though he says the same words i do.
Cookie takes forever, but he showed me where the yellow tower was so i could nod my head 3 times. Standing on a bridge, no, not like the Mississippi (always sing the song in my head to spell that out, in honor of childhood duels, have to keep the skills sharp). Interesting in its own right. The cigarette butt flies through the bars.
Staying with these cats for the last few days. i can throw up a diamond for the smuggler with a heart of gold. Trying to help the women sneak out their unborn babies now. Good luck finding your wife this week.Where do the people come from, where am i going to have met them?
Give those beautiful women a little taste. Don't paint the trains, well maybe this one.
Sure the kids like you, but even here in our hood they give us no respect.
They give no respect because they don't understand.
Their gov may try to find them, but ours will find us. you just get a phone call in Shanghai and the party is over. We want to paint, it's just we don't have to hide and if we did it wouldn't work. Paint, paint to the line just don't cross it or you're gone. Just cans, sitting, waiting to be picked up again and a piece that never got finished.
Cans thrown into bushes, nervous looks back. Feet slapping the pavement, cross the street, turn down the alley. I cannot help but smile. Feet pounding, heart smiling. Gucci apparently too precious even for the chinese.
Tears quietly welling in her eyes as we pull away. I no longer even feel a pull when the goodbyes must be said. The train whistle blows. Always a new chapter coming always a new one added i would happily return to. Is it the state of the world or the state of me?
The cans rattle. I don't want noodles, just some tea. I want to sit and think. Remember i am working so i just need to watch now.
Waiting for the sun to rise, waiting for the rest of the world to slowly wake. Tracing back my steps now. As we traced last night. Then to return like proud mothers taking the photos of our childrens first glimpse of light, the first time the rest of the world got a chance to see them. And back.
You may be one in a hundred, a thousand, a million but i am here to let others knw.
RAY
JEX
TIM
Cookie
LHY
NeverEver
Hubest

Graffiti and noodles

"my umi said shine your light on the world, shine you light for the world to see."

drums pounding, pulling, pulling the body to move. it is not a matter of choice when the beat hits. the feet, bare feet, slide or stomp over the dirty bar floor. "will you teach me how to dance." i cannot teach you how to dance i can only tell you not to think and just listen. take your shoes off, that helps alot too. so many faces that know me and are happy to see me. We cannot speak but i see the smile and more so feel the happiness of a hug given, although we have only met once. i hear what they play. they see i hear and feel it in true apprecaition. all artists love to be appreciated. she smiles, "it is my friends birthday." i know Taka, he has seen me before, he says he came back to watch me dance. give me your hand then you can watch better how i move my feet. the most important thing is never to stop smiling. you cannot dance when your not smiling.

"memories dont live like people do, they always remeber you whether things are good or bad."

you seem broken, you place your best days behind you. as now you just seem to sit and wait for the world to change around you into something you can love again. don't kill yourself when you are so young. thank you though, as you have taken me to a man who removes the worry. i had not been feeling it but it is always good to have such medicine sitting in the back of the closet incase the headache comes back. playing the citar and wandering. i want to play the flute and i like to wander. we both want to ride horses where others only think of cars.

"I asked if you all feel me and the crowd left me standing."

then sitting and waiting. then standing and going. when will my vision clear again. beer after beer, shot after shot put in front of me. cars being blown up left and right. i said i was lucky, i am sure i will come upon other windfall so this one is yours. fate comes back around on me, this i had been told i would love it. liquid golden fire that you can taste the smoke of. such a fine fine taste. japanese, not what would be expected. you keep saying i am more interesting, you like me better. i can only sink this yellow submarine faster because baijiu has burned out my throat. if you can drink baijiu you can drink anything. The feeling of lightness is brought on quickly when that many glasses are placed in front of you in so short a time. i would love to stay and watch football with you, but we must be going. i am sorry that i will not be seeing you again and can only wish you the best in what you do. the only memories i will have of you are ones formed through this haze, but that makes them what they are and this what it is.

"in she came with the same type game, the type of girl give out the fake cell phone and name."

The steps shake as we walk down them. The men all around make me feel like something hanging in a meat market, ladies i know what it feels like. But the beat drops, and i find those eyes through the crowd. i did not expect to find eyes like that here. hips that can move, god i miss that more than anything else. i love this fire. coy is fun, but so is honest passion. grab me and pull me closer. i don't speak japanese or portugese, but it doesn't matter words are not needed for us to talk so long as there is music. i'm glad you came here now and i can tell you are glad i came too. a beautiful girl, full of tropical fire in a room of guys who wouldn't bother looking.

it all comes in, and you can swim around. blowing small jets of water into the air. but you know, you know the whole time that you will have to move on. this water may run over you again, changed, because things never stay the same, or you may never see it again. i fell in love 3 times last night, and once more this morning over breakfast, wait make that twice. we stand and walk out into the street. not wanting to see it as most others do we buy more to drink thinking this the best choice by far as we stand and watch them all walk by. everyone moves around so quickly, while i can only smile and laugh. samurai stop me in the street to have conversations i cannot understand. beautiful girls make the scenery so much better. we dance down streets, sometimes trying to talk to the clouds over head. i don't want to buy anything, we just want to watch beauty and let it know that someone is noticing. if she didn't have a boyfriend, if she didn't either. my future wife teaches me the japanese that i can practice today. ai shitteru yo, dokokade echi shiho. plaid umbrella flapping in the wind. But i stop them, running through the cars, the police and elder japanese struck with horror. run and jump over the green wall to stop in an instant, head bowed before the stone column, white angles flapping in the wind. you must wash your hands and rinse your mouth first. with quietude ascend the steps. collect your thoughts, head lowered twice followed by the two piercing claps, lower your head once more. slowly turn, hands respectfully held as you walk out with a mind calm and poised. step through the gate and again the chaos can resume. lets keep running.

Overtime, sitting there eating pizza from a cone. I want to fuck her and her me, but neither of us is willing. She wants to find someone else for me. We all go to see what can be found next. He walks first and i follow, again putting all i know into a bag. not thinking, as i have come to learn one can never do, what this means. She waits and walks with me, giving me time to learn that we should probably get married, it would be best for both of us. We laugh at the idea, because i'm right, there is just nothing to be done about it. I'll be honest... "I'm not like that." No worries, i meant no offense. one more drink, as she asks me where i came from. The decides she has changed her mind. Again less than coy becomes fun, no time to walk back but i can enjoy this bar for one last time. Sonic grabbing rings in the background. worlds smashing as this reality is about to be stripped off and thrown behind in the pursuit of a new one. You get used to it, because you learn not to think.



"Blasted holes in the night till it bled sunshine."



And we ride on. drinking more as the scenery hurtles by, talking with those we haven't met, from places we have never been. i remember nothing that was said. i know they loved metal music as we shared what we could continuing on. when will we arrive and where are we going. none of it has come to matter because i move more than i sit now. sitting can be enjoyed but i know it dulls me, i had come to feel so dull sitting there for so long and now sitting for even a moment now makes me just long for my feet to be moving again.
And walking, no being led to places where the watch dogs will sniff and maybe let me pass. maybe grant me a chance to return home. vision to clouded from days of drink and lack of sleep to see what is before me. good thing chilhood friends can be found anywhere when needed. they seem to have sniffed my crotch enough before so now they just ask for some papers. walking and talking but not knowing what i am saying. colors flash by, i can only assume they are caused by people and scenery but care to little to try and tell.
sleeping, then waiting. waiting for the voice to come. heard so many times, but this time an anxiety to hear it again that cannot be expressed. but calm, so calm. watching beauty come in. she asks again and again with bated excitment, searching for the face she does not know, of the man she is not familiar with but cannot wait to meet. a joy that makes me love her. and the beat drops. a man enters hidden behind a mask but i know his face. and behind him he trails a truth which forces me to stand. to smile without reserve. others i see dance because they want to and know they should. there is no such luxury for me i simply must. one cannot swim against a tidal wave and i would not want to anyway.
and so quickly it has all ended. i am not suprised, this is not the first and will not be the last time. the feeling doesn't even come. i just now it is there because i see it comeing from there eyes. a warm hug, a heartfelt thanks and it is gone or if not gone at least left for now.

"I start to think and then i sink into the paper like i was ink."

Flying on trains

Always sleeping in late. Late nights working, finding new faces, hearing new storiesthough often being brought back to the same place. The work can leave me exhausted. Maybe the constant haze. Fog, smog blocking out light that would pull me to my feet. It is probably the girl. Hand resting on my chest, my stomach. Hair tickling my nose or just filling it with that scent that all women have, but none have in common. Not the one i want, but exactly what i was looking for. . Everyday, whether she has gone to work or decided to stay home to help me with mine. I lay and breathe deeply in bed not know when i may force my legs to move,
Come to the party, here is a flyer
Just trying to snage some girls, maybe help Li Kui get laid too. My eyes are drawn to her lips. I can`t help but think what they are great for. And then finding myself lying in ecstasy far away from where it started. Not know how i got to where i am, remembering roads but unable to see how it all ended up fitting together. Hand grabbing here hair as i lay back flooded with current ecstasy, but with the past screaming at the back of my mind. It doesn`t seem real like that long nights dream that pulled me through till dawn, a dream found in a storm. It has been so long, it shouldn`t feel strange but still does. The hip-hop queen in a city i love. First lust i have really felt not brought on by perfect lips and breasts and eyes that beckon. Although not lacking, they do not make me want this girl as much as her spirit.
Pushing through every car on the train i know not what to do. They sit me down, give me a secured place of honor while driving others off. What if anything can i, should i do.
No more dao, all gone in smoke, So satisfying sitting amongst the uniforms, chatting with them, blowing rings of smoke to mingle with their cigarettes. My american tobacco, my kung fu, the lao wai sitting and meditating, always smiling.
What do all these things mean. What purpose or goal these thoughts, these wonderings. What should i be trying to do, what can i hope to accomplish. Things seemed much clearer with the Jester and Dean Moriarty. The dancing chaso seemed as if we were being pulled along by something, seemed as if we had heard a grand song and begun dancing to it without knowing. Have i lost the tune or is this just what happens when you changes instruments to zithers and turntables. I hope i have not strayed and become lost. Its hard to tell, what would this even mean. I never knew where i was headed, but always assumed i could fall off the path somehow. More and more ink sacrificed to pages. Letting vent to thoughts i should not bother with. I thought i would feel different, i thought i was supposed to be changed. Maybe i have, but have not noticed. My memory is so filled with a jumble of long gazes int the mirror without ever knowing what i have seen. Maybe watching yourself is like watching a dog grow, you only notice when you leave and then come back. It is much harder to leave myself, but maybe i can just stop caring.
Don`t know what the hell i am doing. What i am chasing. Give me pretty girls and loud hip-hop parties, quite contemplation leading to sudden enlightenment. Give me constant change and comfort wherever i go. Somehow i am able to find them all. Torn apart of being pulled together.
Thick fragrant clouds. They do not obscure but further draw out the eyes, the gentles smile of the still one. Pink petals grow at his unmoving feet. Movement in the stillness. A movement which can spread over all. Embracing with the pure shinning eyes. Her eyes shine too, set also in a soft white face, rounded and beautiful. Her heart holds the some loves, but here mouth professes it with different words. Beauty found searching for maps. It grabs you by the ankles and pulls you along never bothering to ask where you may have thought to go, simply taking you to a new place.

Chengdu has the best tofu

The beard spoke true through the scented air. The cow carries much luck on its broad shoulders. What i have been looking for leaping forward to meet me. The air heavy and clouded, perpetual fog. Obscuring, hiding what lies in waiting. She spoke rightly. Beauty is often hidden in such mist. She did not know but she was also speaking of this place. New rabbits to meet. This one has had more time to collect bunnies. He appreciates my presence, but i doubt if he understands just how much he can do for me. How much i have been seeking him, but not having known where to go. And i find them. All of them, sitting waiting for me. Steeled eyes gazing forward. They have sat here for so long while always still dancing in the skies. Dancing in my head and heart. I went ot sit at Lu`s feet. I touched my head to the ground and i could only laugh out loud as i starred at all of their golden or bronze faces. All of them only made me laugh, too much joy in my heart bursting out. Before Wenshu`s stable gaze i was calmed like still water. People will think i am just crazy and eccentric leaving the band of my kungfu brother at Lu`s feet. Asking him for help between bursts of a dancing lotus escaping. Today my feet moved smoother, my blade turned steadier. He once sat in those halls. Maybe he still does as a spider, or monk, or old woman resting on a bench or maybe he just still hears the echos in its halls, but i think, a feeling which had been slipping only to be pulled back, that he may have listened and agreed to send me a boon.
"Do you like Sun Wukon or Lu Dongbin better?" I sit and think, holding the fluted glass. No bubbles or frozen insects in this glass of amber. The king of monkeys. Lu is shining steel, purity and ordered good. Monkey causes trouble. Right now i would rather be a blazing fire, leaping water, or a raging wind. Maybe all at once. There is a great time for treading a shining path. now i think trouble is more fun. Sao, i know what this means. She says and explains it with disdain. I disagree, sao can be fun. Eyes peeking out from beneath the brim. It has been a while since i have seen eyes like that. Lips and eyes and breasts that give nothing but lust, long since i have felt that. Sly smiles interchanged, sao. Sao could be fun.
A desert wind with soaring dragon and phoenix clouds. Sun setting, chaning to a sea of blazing water. Joy boiling up again, so much.
Visions in my head as lights dance before me. So many beautiful girls so many interesting faces. What was hated has become oh so loved. Get lost in endless fields or in soaring lights.

Running on ice you can't stop

Many strange things seen today. Deep valleys hiding dragons only to come screaming out when you calmly turn to look. An ancient god stands silently looking on. They sit to smoke under it. I stop to sing with a voice borrowed from its brother. I want to run on rooves. Sprint and leap, only then i think will it be able to be done. I went to live with monks. They taught me, taught me more than just how to move like the bobbing mantis, to flash like green lightning. They taught me the pain, the effort, the benefit. In dark rooms filled with smoke or sitting on velvet, mech battles raging behind room still full of smoke or sitting beer in hand kanye blasting, room still full of smoke. so much time wasted, but so much gained from the wasting of it. you were right. i don't mean to, i don't want to, its what i try hardest to avoid but i keep leaving trails of broken hearts. any advice on how i can stop? things seem to change in an instant. my eyes open to look around. white rabbits of luck sit along my path. temples call out to me as i got past. they take pictures. they look and ask questions, so full of curiosity. i just smile back head lost in clouds as i tear through pages from the past. stories to inspire. driving me on and showing me new faces in the mountains. i've been chasing stories all along and now want more than ever to be working on my own. riding again, pulling myself on to a new start. in mountains of draped velvet i see faces of those who i laughed with before. faces from so many times and places.i'm beginning to understand what i am doing here. where my eyes are supposed to be turned and my feet placed.

"The story tells how Pig leaptdown the mountainside and found a narrow path. After following it for nearly two miles he came across two she-monsters drawing water from a well. How did he know that they both were monsters? Each of them had on her head and extremely unfashionable hair-style held up by bamboo slivers that stood one foot two or three incheshigh." Chinese literature has taught me, beware those with bad haircuts.

I find it more and more diffucult to write and even talk in what i imagine you are refering to as a lucid way after what i can best refer to as my suicidally romantic psychotic break, but its a hell of alot of fun.
i have found the best way to help others for me has been the wandering monk. i don't have much to give but whatever i have i give to help whoever i run across. didn't know what the hell i was doing for a long time. last night i came to realize a travelling monk really is the closest thing. driving on through night, trying my best to reach chengdu for chinese new year. stopped for a bowl of dofu and cabbage soup, desperatly needed to warm me up and give me some energy. i ate only a bowl of noodles that morning, which i got for free as well as a complimentory orange (don't know if its the novelty of a foreigner in backwoods china, which usually just gets extravagent attempts at price hiking, my usually bedraggled appearance when traveling, the kungfu sword on my back, requests for vegetarian food because of being a taoist/buddhist and chinese classic in hand, or, as most people tell me, my claimed good looks, but i get alot of free shit.) i was taught the chinese word for firecracker "huo pa" by a little chinese boy as i looked up at the grey night sky, smoked a spliff (not everything has changed) while waiting for my soup. while reading over my soup i talked to the family of the restaurant about sun wu kong the monkey king. they told me to drive safely as i left. "the next city is 27 kilometers. (people in china have an unbelievable knowledge of local and national travel distances and directions) but be careful it is cold." cold but not that cold, i have come so far already, what is a little further. driving on and suddenly fog, lights come and all is a glare of shining crystals. I pull over. ice, everywhere, on my visor my jacket, in the air. i can only go on, slowly, slowly. stopping, not stopping, leaning, swerving, sliding. i watch the crystals on the grass glide past as i am pulled along the ice coated road beneath my bike. all is dark, and i slowly come to a stop. pulling myself out from under the bike i lift it back up thinking only of getting the light back on. it is dark, and beatiful, and i hate to see it go but i know i still have farther to walk and any trucks will have a hard time stopping too. walking along the side of the road. thinking to myself i have no idea how far 27 kilometers is but i know it is something i will never forget. walking on i see light up ahead. the light and my feet are the only things i can see. i walk towards the light, a small house. lights on and smoke coming from under the door. please. there is too much ice, it is too cold. "come sit by the fire." more people come pooring in filling the dirty concrete floor as we crouch around the fire. dirty faces of farmers. a minority group, the yi i find out. then clean new winter jackets and lighter faces. researchers here to study and yi minority family. i am going to chengdu. i sit there thumbing over my prayer beads for the first time in a while. to warm my thumbs and just as comfort. they remind me of those who last gave me shelter when the heavens turned against me. the fire spits angrily as the cured pork rib is thrown on. as it boils i can only look at the faces, the young and the old are my favorite. looking into the eyes of the old i can only think of all they have seen, what changes they witnesed in their lifetimes. and i think, especially with people such as these, how little their steps have changed since when they were children. they young have a blazing fire in their eyes, where the old have the warm glow of embers. as i lay, cold in bed, in a room full of kindling, staring at all that potential heat which was of no use to me, i did not care. i loved all of it as i lie there reading of the trials sanzang faced as he traveled west. and i could only think that things such as this were not trials in anyway but rather the best parts of my journey. i could only think of myself as a travelling monk. relying on the kindness and generosity of others for the most important things in my travel. and where ever i go i do all i can to help whoever i meet when i can. i can never do much but people in general seem to be happy when i come and sad when i go so i have hope that i am doing some good. living by karma. my face is suburned today from walking my bike down the mountain past the ice line. i spent the morning walking around in the families grazing fields seeing for the first time what lay in teh darkness around me last night. walking down past the first overturned truck i gave the kid my 10 pence piece an english friend from guangzhou had given me. i couldn't show him any kungfu as i would have just fallen on my ass, jumping kicks and ice dont mix. a truck pulls over and offers to drive me and my bike to the next city just as i pass the ice line, no use now. i still have some good karma left over from last night, but not that much. a wandering monk, doing my best to live off of good will. i am trying to change to a classic chinese kungfu hero, maybe once i get my swords.

Leaving a trail of smoke

A world born from a lotus blossom risen slowly out of the water can be no more captured in words than the moon caught by a puddle.Ordered shores cannot help to capture breathless beauty, so perhaps it is better to let the water flow so that the reflections may dance on it.
Mist clinging, not hiding beauty, drawing eyes further in. Softening so as to capture. A cloud passing over the moon, makes it seem all the brighter. Quitely hidden behind a grand surface seen before, a beauty, breathing deeply, deeply and calmly. Korea i feel i have seen before. Missing it at first only to see the trees and rocks in the mist after the eyes had a moment to settle. Mist sitting in your eyes. I will go, i have come, i want to go back
Guan yu sits in pure white jade against my heart. Filling each breath with the flashing blade, the turning hand, the sure foot, but most of all with brotherhood, commitment and devotion. Standing amongst the cherry blossoms, taking my oath eyes turned to the sky, the string of heart holds him in his place. I have my protection for the new year. A cow happily wearing his yoke.
It will begin, the bald head and white beard told me through the incensed air. Eyes not fixed, not wandering and so i believe him. Luck, stars aligning, Pluto comes to open the gate so that all may come out, all hidden shown light. I want to go. I have tried, feet moving. But each time it only ends up being a dance. Soon, soon i will run though, said so many times before, but now a place i know to run to. Now, now i will start to learn to run on roofs. I want to see snow on the forbidden city. I want to watch metal, change to water giving birth to green and red and blue. Frozen butterflies. But long roads left to take, names know with faces yet to see and the circling step. How i long to walk in circles, making sinews like steel and moving the breath as you will. Walking in circles one can go very high, but it does not get you anywhere. And steel to forge, to carry new hearts with me. But quickly quickly i want to run, so learn i will.
i sit in dali, sitting here for a month and a half now smoking a joint in a japanese hippie bar. i want to go now, i will. i've fallen in love with korea without ever seeing it before. it has been hitting me in waves, wave after wave now. it is strange to think how many lives we go through. how many homes we find. leaving them only to find new ones and never knowing which ones me may return to. we can guess, we can want only one so badly at times willing to give up all those we have seen and may yet to go back or to stay. sometimes we can't go back, sometimes we choose to leave. its funny how sometimes the places we forgot about so quickly come back with the passing of a cloud and appear, maybe for the first time, as our only sun. then the question comes. do you try to run back or just keeping running forward, letting that sun warm our back till we find anew one to face. life seems strange and clear.
i've left but what have i left behind. what will i find where i go next. roads forgotten only to be remembered