Lotus Feet

"Burn through me like blue neon."
crazy beautiful. Dark corner made darker. Music blarring, faces swirl in the smoke. "Lock me up, leave me alone, I don't like people." Here you are angry because you are not alone. You hate them all; their noise, their smell. "Lock me in a cell so i never have to leave, never have to hear their noise." Hating others why did you come? Why did you leave your cell, to come find me? "I have my pets." "Dungeons are good because you can lick bars." Sex, sex, sex. But a single touch and you recoil. Alone and erotic. "I hate sex." You hate and love it because it hurt you. Taken, used when you stepped outside your door. And now, in the dark for so long, you long for the sun but can think only that it will burn you. Crazy beautiful, you don't want to be alone, you just keep getting hurt when your not.
"Floating lotus"
"Flying lotus"
"Butterflies, 1000 into my chest. Blue. Unusual."
But to what purpose disturbing the dust on a bowel of rose leaves. Smash the bowl and maybe the leaves will again become a flower.
"I hate all,
cuz they r pollution to Me."
Pollution can be flushed out. Run through clear water and don't hold to dirt with hate.
"Lotus?"
Lotuses must open to the sun for the world to be created.
".....U r always smiling :)"
I gave up on worrying about the reasons that make you frown
Feet splash down the gutter. "Is it clean?" Oh yes, don't worry, don't fear just walk and splash. "Can I be blindfolded?" Yes, i will take your arm. Steps so tentative. I promise not to walk you into danger. Take my hand. I know not where i go, but maybe in my going i can show you lovely places to sit. I was trying to fuck you, but now i just want to help a fragile hand slapped too many times to once more open a door and step out..
Footfalls echo, echo, echo and splash. Has your pain set you running back to a cave. Footfalls echo.
"Joy is too wanton."
Play the lute and scream at trees.
"So I'm the elf in the tree, scream to me a lullaby."
Eyes so wide, showing pain for any to see. Wider, wider, opening a world deep and dark. I can look in, i can become lost and frightened. Maybe come to understand, but not know. Kittens and children's smiling faces. Music and joy. Painting, stopping, laughing. A smile brought to a face too long hidden, too long turned down, turned away. But shattered, a strange but warmer world turned too strange.
"Why I like staying with U?"
Because i have tried to give to you rather than take. To help rather than hurt.
"No one ever treat me so nice."
And the fear comes back, crashing in like night when day is suddenly torn away. Darker, darker, darker. That scream, that yell of endless tormentors come back, leering at you from the faces of those who seemed friends.
struggling, stumbling back the fear grows an grows. Locking yourself in a dark cell. Torturing yourself as those behind your eyes return to toture you. Curse and spit at me. Cry and vomit. Still i will stay, still i will hold your hand to steady you as those dark winds swirl in your mind. You love her because she did not hurt you as they did. But hate, hate also so strong. She pulled you from the dragons lair, only to leave you standing cold and alone as if you had not survived, as if this broken battered girl had not been strong enough, had breathed her last breath. But too strong you were.
Fighting dogs with wailing harps.
And so thinner and thinner you became. A skeleton left to walk amongst the wastes. And they came in droves, in numbers, the jackals and vultures. Dark eyes peering out from and already dark wilderness. When your pain became too great, your cries too loud for them to block out they sent you away, sent you to a hell they thought you wouldn't make it back from. Green squares, green glasses you screamed into the mirror. Rape, Rape, Rape. They did not take the hurt away, they did not pull you from your mind. They brought it out, they tortured your body with the same horrors that had tortured your mind. And so i held my hand out to you. Not to pull you closer to a face full of fangs like so many, like all the, others, but instead to show you a light touch. Like a hand finding rest on a trees bark warmed by the sun, staying, to rest a wearied body, a wearied heart. And as you were dragged back through that darkness the hand stayed there, steady, so the body did not fall, did not break. And so a lotus rose from the red waters. Calming the roiling sea. And as you looked on the petals unfolded showing to you a new world of light and golden fields. Shifting patterns cast on soft moss made by gently swaying leaves.
Rains coming and going. Rivers surge so travelers know not what path to take.
"don't travel. Backhome!"
But home is where feet travel and sakura are found.
"cosy home."
Sun on yout face grass under your back, what more could be wanted than the company of the wind?
"Sakura in the wind."
Snow comes warm and light.
"I'm lying in the snow a red apple in my right palm. Close my eyes. Sticking out my tongue tasting snowflakes."
Light footfalls in the snow, a cloud passes glowing gold.
Eyes opening once again to see a world outside your terror. It swated and bent slowly settling back in. But through it you came to see something. The fears were old, the terrors brought back, but no, something new had risen up, emerged from that dark swirling. A gentle hand. Kindness had been there when it never was before. And eyes opening, the face which had changed from hated love to tormenting demon, to steady guiding hand setteled. It setteled, finding a place, no making a new one where all the gap had been sealed up tight, in your heart. And so, being given kindness made you feel you had come to find love. Clinging, wanting, holding, desperate for the unknown warmth not to leave you tied these feelings, the comfort of a gentle touch, the safety of a true smile, to a face. But kindness has no face, giving no constant body. They come to those who are open. Often like a warm breeze when a chill has setteled all around. Unexpected, maybe even a little startling, but always welcome. Giving the mind and heart a moment of respite from whatever struggles and hardships may have held it down. But too close, too close i fear you have come to tie a face to this feeling. Believing that light comes from angels, even those with just one wing, sent down to save rather than rising with the lotus as the waters inside us calm. And i fear your turning of a simple wanderer into a golden knight may have blinded you to words and visions of truth.

Then a cloud passed and the pool was empty
Go said the bird, for the leaves were full of children,
Hidden excitedly containing laughter.
Go, go, go said the bird: humankind
Cannot bear very much reality.
Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.

And i thought of you, when darkness screamed, when clouds broke through. Crazy beautiful, art and eros. Footfalls echoing in my own hallways. She looked up at me wondering what could make an angel cry. Not an angel just someone made light enough to be blown about, nothing had so nothing held. Ties cut so winds can lift. And sometimes, carrying you back through trees full of old voices, the wind can cry with shadows of what was lost. I thought of you and even while darkness gathered sunshine still broke through
and
i
never
stopped
smiling

I find what you have to say very interesting

"That's just what we need: a barefoot viking motherfucking looking dude with a sword."
Stopping, waiting, pausing. Was it giving in or listening to the wind. The dao doesn't fit into numbers it doesn't argue and fight, it sits and contemplates the lilies or dances along the waters surface singing at the dying world. Tapping, tapping, tapping lotuses and jade pendants. Pain no pain. Words flowing past. Past time future time, only the present now. No halls of memory to run down only words, words passed before my eyes and tapping scratching. Broken jade, then cloud-like hair. Where did it begin, where will it end, thoughts questions not in the mind. The lonely pond, the appeal to Krishna. I slayed you with my words coming to yout world to play with numbers and reasons. But in doing so i gave up my heart the willows and the lotus. A battle lost more than you can know although you don't know. Charming spinning, winning this one no i don't want that i will move to and run with the next. Nothing wanted, take give. A wonderland found, not missed but found, yes i will stay to play but only for a little while. I have found a world of clouds and dragons.
Tell me stories, I want the ones that make dreams come out of your eyes. That your heart pulls up from your feet with scents and sounds. I want you to make the back walls blur as you pull with so much, with all you have. Give them, share them let me look.

And he stood up spinning

my hands still smell of pig shit. i found today that daoists live under skies that ripple. ripple like sand dunes until the blue turns to gold and finally fades slowly slowly to an inky black filled with more dreams and guides than one could imagine. food cooks slowly over an open fire but is eagerly awaited by those sitting sipping belgian beer only enjoyed because it was brought as a heart felt gift. burning bai jiu out of plastic jugs is more jollily raised and raised again. they scream and fight knowing. as they die the screams slowly fade to coughs, choking coughs. their skin burns just like ours, their hearts so close they can be used to save mens live. no feeling of pity though. coming to understand they die, i will too. squeeze out the bladder pull out the guts. holding tight as it fights and struggles and slowly stops. he just walks out of the field as i come to try and know the sky. they want a plan so you try to give them a backbone. but stories tied to the legs of birds do not serve well to leave a direction you can point out to others. what more could you want? laugh madly and spin and they will stare and not know why or maybe come to dance along one can never care or have an eye for a result.

i have come to feel a lesson once learned. given by a beautiful girl whose true beauty only came to be known once i was locked listening to her words. glamour fades, all know this though many ignore it, but a spirit a mind that burns does not die and always brings warmth. finding this warmth where not expected led me to become lost even though i was only heading home. the lights are on and then they go out, who knows when they may be back. i have come to understand the need the unquenchable desire to have a what others do, what you think you should have too and to fight and scratch and leave behind what you may know for it. but i have come to love those who sit by the fire and smoke cigarettes, raising glasses while still covered in blood from the pig that fills their stomach. i can see why people want and chase after it, but feel i have found kinship with those who would rather sit and laugh, there even the dog turns down food.

Falling birds

Predominance of the Small- When the small predominates it gets through successfully, beneficial if correct. It is suitable for small matters, but not for great matters. The call left by a flying bird should not rise but descend; that is very auspicious.
There is thunder over a mountain, symbolizing predominance of the small. Cultured people are extraordinaliry reverential in their behavior, extraordinarily sorrowful in their mourning, and extraordinarily frugal in their needs.
1. A bird in flight is considered bad luck.

A couple sitting by the side of the road. She holds him.
"Look dinosaurs." "the road up ahead is dangerous, it rained alot last night, be careful." China likes to coat its tunnels in a substance that absors all light cast by headlights. total blackness, crackes walls, uneven stones, the tunnels i had worried about. stop to take a break, look out over the valley. climbed to the top of a mountain, swing the blade breathe the air.
a motorcycle in the road, who put that there? motorcycles shouldn't be on their side.
The wrong way you say. To sichuan, that isn't right. The soup was very good and your village very lovely, but i must be going. back past puddles on mountain tops, down twisting roads.
Covered in his blood. Cars drive around "you left your bike in the road" the horns scream angrily.
What did it feel like? Did you even know or did you think the whole time things would be alright? I have felt my wheels slip. I have seen trucks come up so quickly, holes close too fast. I didn't know it was happening that night, that time the lights came too close. I only knew lights then the distinct sight of gravel and dust. The dust lit by my headlight. Floating there, floating, seen for the first time because i was stopped, but it had been there. Did you know? Did you know you would fall? Do you know why? I saw no cracks in the road, at least none worth noting, no treacherous patches of gravel. Was there another car, another vehicle that just ran leaving you and her to lie there? She knows it happened, but will you ever? In your eyes I saw nothing. Shaking, shaking only shaking. Those cuts did not worry me about them i could have done something, but they didn't matter. The shaking though, I do not want to chake like that . I did not and never wil know you, but I did not want you to shake like that. She is fine, she can still smile like on your keys. I hope you will be able to again, but the shaking, the shaking worreid me. If they had seen it maybe they would have helped. Maybe he would have bothered to take both headphones out. I didn't understand, he understood me. He told me he understood, but blankly stared as i ran and rushed. He understood, I didn't . I didn't understand that he understood and just didn't care. He understood too. I understood that he didn't care either. Can you tell me where i can find a doctor. i want to help him. "you want to help him." he laughed, he laughed and just kept counting the money the old man had given him. none of them cared. i rushed and ran begging, pleading for help. "听不懂." if you don't understand my words i will write them so you do. if you just don't care you have to say so. The sky turns gold. I don't see clouds tonight, I don't see them turn red with the setting sun.

Sleeping dragons

Guizhou is a land of sleeping dragons. Everywhere there spines and fingers poke out of the earth. Their slumbering mummers bubble to the surface. Sometimes their mouths open wide rushing out to crash upon the landscape. They wear dreary like a bed quilt blanketing the landscape in a dream like quiet beauty. The dog barks all night and today the sun does not rise. Perhaps the dragons were kept up and have asked the sun to wait a while before coming to warm their bones.

Temple of the Broken Courtyard

Part 1
Obstruction- The Inhumanity of obstruction does not help the steadfast uprightness of cultured people. The great goes and the small comes.
Heaven and earth not interacting symbolizes; under such conditions cultured people avoid trouble by virtue of frugality, unwilling to work just for money.
6. Overthrowing obstruction, first there is obstruction afterward there is joy.

Expressways full of speedbumps, one really can't go too fast. He falls. Carefully, carefully it doesn't matter.
Everything i have been looking for, fuck it i've got no money. Be frugal. Outside looking more the part, blood and dirt. Now i must get the inside there.
Monks running from the rain, laughing as they dodge puddles. So quiet locusts sing as i stare at the flame. He does not look down upon you as Amitavaha does, gaze fixed forward. Fight and battle you must by yourself. Raise yourself up until you come to meet his gaze.
The black dog barks. " 他不要人." (He doesn't like people.) Then why is he here i think for a moment. "Monks have good hearts." That is why. They took in this stray dog, fed and sheltered him of course that one as well. If a monks heart is not good enough to love the dog that doesn't like people whose would be. It guards her temple. Keeping watch from its lotus throne. A stone sculpture elsewhere come to life here. On the cliffs appearance so imposing, but fixed and unmoving. The eyes only, and the shifting color, give away the hidden strength. I sit. Obstructions overcome, good luck had. Stop to take a photo, come to join a funeral feast. Shangdi must love to smoke. Cultured people don't run too quickly after money. Make the inside like the out. Calm the breath relax the gaze all comes when needed so long as it is not looked for but smiled at when it arrives. Fate has a funny way of unfolding in startlingly obvious ways sometimes. The horns blow, reminding me of the green and blue towers below. The swimming rivers of light. Only calm puddles and locusts here. What the coins tell me. Gliding on brown ice. Pain, anger, frustration. Obstacles seemingly without bound. Concern, fear. Change your destination and the obstruction may disappear. Monks have the best hot water thermoses.
On i went, worrying but not halting and it came just as said.
Base- sitting alone in quite contemplation. The card i have so often chosen for myself. Challenge- wreathed in flame calmly commanding a power. Crown- enjoying that same piece of good fortune standing in front of a temple gate. Sitting, eyes calm, breathe pulled throughout my body. It was him i realized, right there before me. Calmly staring forward. Flame at his feet, i sat before him. My temple gate found and entered.

Part 2
Sameness with people- Sameness with people in the wilds is successful. It is worthwhile crossing great rivers. It is worthwhile to be upright as cultured people.
Sky and fire symbolize sameness with people. Thus do cultured people distinguish things and being in terms of types and kinds.
Hiding warriors in the bush, climbing to a high outlook, do not take action for three years.

Rain pours down from the tiles. I try to catch all of it with my eyes. Calm rarely felt, rarely before known in this way. Familiar from those few places before, those few places where something was a bit different. The rain falls making endless rings. And still the black dog stands watch. Sitting breath calm he leaves me in peace.
Wringing it out with my hands. Somehow this thing, this thing which grows out of me and never before held any meaning has come to be something for me, has come to have an importance a meaning which i don't know, but know is there. So much forgotten, but my hand, my heart so full of desire. Forgetting may be good. The movements still in my muscles in my bones, just the method gone from mind. The meaning given them by another. I think now i should start my own dance. I have the dream in my head now i must go seek instruments, but where to find them? Gansu perhaps, but for that i must wait and then i fear i may not have enough time to finish feeling the steps. But on i can go. Life not stopping and starting in dates and flights. My scenery changes all the time all become home so never leaving just stepping through different rooms. A step or a thousand miles what difference is there. All comes in its season. Times to sit, times to run. A broken courtyard whos beauty has brought out great love in me.
What do they do all day? "什么?" The men without hair, how do the spend their time each day. "打坐。" (meditate) Oh. "What do you do all day?"

Part 3
Thunder- Thunder means getting through successfully: When thunder comes there is alarm, then the mirth of laughing talk. Thunder startling for a hundred miles does not cause loss of serious devotion.
Repeated thunder causes a stir. Cultured people practice self examination with trepidation and fear.
When thunder is faint, stir into action and there will be no fault.
6. Thunder trailing off, the gaze unsteady and expedition bodes ill. When thunder does not affect and individual, but does affect the neighborhood, there is no blame. If a partnership is formed, there is talk.

And the rain goes on. Pouring down, harder, harder. As if to tell me i have missed the message. I am overlooking the sign. It will not stop till what i need to do here is done, what i need to learn learnt. Come to control my mind, calm the thoughts. I sit, but i think, so i must sit more. Watch the rain fall, catch it with the eyes.
Broken courtyard. Bits strewn all around. "At night, close the door." Smiles, knit sweaters and aprons. "他听不懂" And the rain goes on. A hundred more drops made by those that fall. Thousands from a few. Leaping, leaping never sitting still. And the rain will go on. Distant thunder a call to action. Hands, hands. Let them get wet, see if you can keep them dry. Faster straighter don't try, don't think just move. Faster straighter. strike the column, strike it once more. the building will not fall, hit it till the arms break. And smiles, endless smiles at the sky. "what are you waiting for?" I was trying to go in, but couldn't so decided to stay out. Now i am waiting for nothing. 看一看. watch the rain fall. Catch the drops with your eyes, with your hands until you catch them all with your heart. A smile, laughter, without reason or none she can see. My way of showing what i know different than the ways of her teachers. Rings, endless rings. How strange they still look, though i've always had them with me. Let the water fall, catch it in your palm. The mud almost gone, is that what i am waiting here for, for that stain to disappear. Here let me spread it on my fingers, ah much better. And the rain goes on.
"Do you think monks are bad?" No, maybe they are too good for me. It sets in, slowly, creeping. Coming in at the corners the feeling settles in. That feeling of understanding a deep heavy calm. A calm with no words to describe it: fear, shame, guilt, insignificance. all right, all wrong. I don't understand, I want to but i don't, not yet. A pupil, a student. Paths i must keep chasing after, running down. I don't know, i want to but i don't. The black dog comes closer now. Red light shinning up, lotuses. She pours the water down, eyes calm. Give, give it all. Do not bother to look who takes, just give. The black dog circles her. He does not know why. I do not know why i do these things either. I believe, believe in what i don't know i just believe. Why sit when you can stand? Why burn incense, look at the idols? Why, because none of it matters so all of it can.
I wish i could speak to them better, the men with no hair, so i could learn from them. I cannot so i just watch. She just peers up from the noodle bowl, speaking so sloppily she still understands. Maybe just by watching a very good person you can come to learn a little about it yourself.
The black dog comes closer, sniffs my boot, sniffs my foot even wags its tail at me. I get up and return to my room. And still it rains.

Temple of the Broken Courtyard Part 4

Abundance- Abundance is success; kings agrandize it. Do not worry; it is good for the sun to be at midpoint.
Thunder and lightning both come, representing abundance. Cultured people make judgements and pass sentences.
2. When abundance is a shade, you see the north star in the daytime. To go on will get yoususpicion and disdain. It is auspicious if you are truthful in an evident way.
6. When you make your rooms huge and enclose your house, a peek in the door finds it silent with no one there, not to be seen for three years.

And still it rains. Harder than ever. Laying, laying, thinking, not thinking. Eating, silently not knowing what to think or say. I am here to understand something. I don't know what, but here for something. I try to listen to your hearts, to hear the message of how to be just and peaceful. It is so hard for me to hear. What should I do. "Eat till your full, sleep when your tired, dress yourself." And the rain lightens. The hatchet rings on metal. Monks run in from the rain, laughing, singing. And the rain stops. The black dog comes over, looks up at me then gazes with me upon the lights of the city. And the rain stops.