Theseus (day 1637)

I am the rage, I am the heart,
I am octo of each mensis;
Nothing less, a hero’s bravery.

Aethra was my unwed mother,
A time of Gods who took their fill,
Infiltrate the mortal world.

Art thou Poseidon who ruled the seas,
Easily suspected brother of three,
Or Aegeus, King of my throne to be?

Bandits, tricksters, murderers, fools.
A Heroes challenge, a Heroes makers.
And served with a sorceress’ spoil.

Within the labyrinth a Minotaur,
Proof became the feat,
And a ball of thread, home and free.

Into Thy Purity (day 1485)

Held in me: Lion, I am pure roar.
If you: thy Queen, I thee King.
Shake my heart in to this vase,
Drink me in entirety
Leave not a drop to tell the tale.
Surface.
Let this not be of thy guide,
Let this be inward
For in this is purity.

Cursing Vicariously (day 850)

Unspent truths cursing vicariously
Through unconditioned thought experiments
Spent in upward, vigorous motions
Passing through injected morphisms
Like seasonal growth in natures garden

Acting on un-mended realisms
Lost on battle grounds, littered and forgotten
Aside furious warhorses
Foaming with fever generously applied by spurs
Acting on behalf of triumph

Mounted on the back of the Phoenixes wings
Rebirth, regrowth, replenishing vigor
Re-soiling the fields Kings died upon
With fresh blood, fresh sacrifice
Fresh King Nothings dancing with death

Recoiling in a moments thought
Flickering through a pale moonlit window
A firmer grasp, a clutching expression
A last gasp from the old warhorse put to rest
Reaching the heavens upon slaughters deathbed

Nude Study

The Fifth (day 841)

There were five impressions there that day
Two belonged to the Emperor King
Child though he was, vast was his arm
One belonged to the lady tea dealer
Powdered face and blood red kimono
Shimada and the Golden Lotus
Black trim like a bleeding matchbox
The fourth belonged to the fat man Hojiju
Business tycoon but despicable patron
Beard so long it caught fallen crumbs
A neck so indulged it sweat on its own
A stomach sized so large it was custom made
His breath so grotesque nearby flowers wilted

And the fifth, sigh.. the fifth
Well, the fifth is a story
Designed for only respectable ears
Those ears entirely ready to be cured
To be enlightened upon a new journey
Through and over finer paths in life
Along shallow waters edge
Where the spring tips of sakura blood
Flutter in the wind to float on away

The fifth is a story of love and then lost
A heart that danced so lightly on lilies
In the sweet summers pond, so lively with life
A story of silent bicycles rolling through
Low hanging lanes of public parks
Along delightful gardens intricately cared for
Dazzling with brilliant colors
Like a van Gogh day lit dream

And when love effects them
When love finds it’s sacred ground amongst
Great boulder rocks and tiny bonsai
When love settles the folds of a deep blue kimono
Flushing the face free of all blood
With tender thoughts of a young brides countenance
Then, at that moment is when the fifth enters
Along with its strong jawed suitor
In new business formal

But it wasn’t there that the fifth stopped its journey
A sleek rickshaw and a sturdy set of legs
Cobbly streets and dimly lit alleys
Hushed movements behind closed rice paper dividers
And sandals displayed in all sorts of hurry
Emotions rolling down the window like raindrops in the night
Comforting morning departures, comforting silence
Comforting ebb and flow, engagement
Rolling through like smoke
From a freshly extinguished candle
Escaping out through ill-fitting woodwork
Of ancient architecture
And passing through the heart of a lamenting maiden
Deep amongst the last haiku
Beside tokens with memories
Beneath bamboo thatched covers
Protected by fine silken layers

Here lies the fifth
Forbidden from all eyes but two
Forbidden from all hearts but one
Forbidden from all souls but one
Forbidden and almost forgotten
But sacred, and coveted
And lost

photo-6
Photo: Kana Yamashita

Friedrich von Spotzenpaws (day 667)

When I run I am empowered!
A being all should regard
Long graceful steps
And speed! NONE can match my speeds
My finest hour
Is captured in the chase
When I lock my sights on
Terrified victims of prey

I am the KING!
I am to be feared!
Respect me, not by force
But by observing
Habits of my life
This is me alive
Now watch as I go
Take flight!

aCheetahFriedrich can be purchased here.

The King of the Safari (day 157)

Wild wildebeests join formation
Crush the dust under panic’d hooves
Leave the grassland for the hole
Snort and grunt, territorial games

The zebras, like the wildebeests
In their striped uniforms
And rebellious mane, graze
The wild grasslands they graze

Vultures, with their crooked necks
Search the landscape, far and wide
For fresh kills, or hungry lions
With them follow smaller scavengers

The elephants, in their scattered herds
With the cutest young
Spray themselves, in the hot noon sun
Or roll, roll around in the mud

When the trees are green
We find the giraffes, tall and lean
Searching the top branches
For the choicest of leaves

The king of the safari, we all know
Roars the loudest in his territory
Claims his space, claims his clan
Guards his disciples from a shady grove