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.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
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.
"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.
Monday, January 19, 2009
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
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
Monday, December 8, 2008
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.
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
never
stopped
smiling
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, November 17, 2008
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.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
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.
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.
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