My Stop (day 859)

This is not my stop
This is not where I’m getting off
I have not become lost
But I was just reading
The daily news
And became fascinated
With the going-ons
After which I noticed
You sitting there
With a weird glare
Just like a stare
Which as you can see
Has confused me
As I wait here now
For my right stop

Paris - 07132012 (15 of 61)

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

Pages (day 820)

All my lies are filled with unskilled talent
Washing out the good pages
Diluting the mixture until I begin to believe them
I should be sentenced to death
For the nonsense I pretend
If it weren’t for the gamblers
For the fortunate good-will
I’d find myself lollygagging lost
In the lies I weave around my butterfly
Dancing in my pretty shoes
And printing more pages to spoil

Drained and Bled (day 722)

Refined the madness will walk away
At seasons end to sell your hay
Share the sun, enjoy each day
But don’t get lost along the way

Then if the last straw be drawn
Finding you left standing on the lawn
No goods leftover to be pawned
It will be sorrow; all sun be gone

It’s known it’s fearful inside this head
Laughter spinning around the bed
The makeshift scarecrow: no wit, dead
No roof to shelter, no home to stead

But not all’s lost when wits have fled
A lone wild grouse found and bled
Enough to feed and safely tread
At least for a little while, to ease the dread

Wilfred Sameuls (day 721)

Nope, I will not do it
I will not use my size to destroy
I am a peaceful, civilized rhino
You should know this by now
Don’t you?
Have I been living my life as a lie?
Lost inside my head and
Believing things that really aren’t?

I’m lost boys
I’m quite shocked of this
A bad rapport, us rhinos get
We scare easily, it’s true
Stampedes are natural
With so many of us together
But you just can’t do that to us
It’s bad manners to jump up
And scare us like that

But anyways,
The wife’s got the water on
Could I interest you
In a spot of tea?

Wilfred Sameuls, a rhino

Wilfred can be purchased here.

A Free Soldier (day 654)

A lost soldier makes his way home
Elsewhere, grenades go off in combat
Where trenches are dug deep into earth
Casually the soldier wanders home
Through orchards full of fresh fruit
Through rolling country hills
And friendly strangers minding
Their own important business
Along double track dirt roads
Fields of flowers for napping carelessly
And picking, one hangs loose about his shirt pocket
Heavy combat coat flung freely about his shoulder
Fresh cut grass sends over the valley
A smell so potent and refreshing
Even the young birds come stay for a visit
Enjoying the new horizons created
By the arching suns daily pattern
Carrying it’s essence onward
Into the mind of the young soldier
Making his way home away from battle
In peace so strong a hand from nowhere reaches out
And assures him that all will be right
And walks him onward, into the light

I’m Done End (day 514)

Muttering and murmuring and lost all control and trying to step and falling forward with an understanding that nothing is as it seems but today oh my smoke and holiday but where I’ve seen not only that lost and maybe tomorrow my mother and I could who is that standing and crosswalks that I’m into with honking and what is the matter but why have I gathered but there’s no more sense in this matter of a conclusion can we understand my control but who has the next hit I think I’m done for the night but where is home do I have places to sleep where have I come from but there is no home anymore fucking father left me to die and he can rot in a scum bag of maggots but tonight I can’t sleep for I’m dizzy and maybe here I can sit down a while will it rain again tonight I don’t care anymore I need another hit needles drugs spoons lighter fuck where’s my lighter I’ve lost it again and under the bush where was I last night that whore I lost my underwear too but that’s but tonight I don’t have sleep but crosswalks and random who’s this and what is he doing why is that there is that a camera did he just take my where did he go I was about to say something to him come back here! the crosswalk did I stop walking ok here I will send for my secrets and lay them waste upon this stone hard ground kissing stone kissing cement walk I must walk and left and walk and onto the next where did we end up with truths and endless abandoned I’m done end John smoke home