I climbed back
Up the mountain
To try shooting
The rapids again;
Inflating my rubber raft
I set my rudder;
What a ride!
Turmoil inside and out,
Deeper than the river,
Wider than the sky;
What a beautiful day
To rush a cataract.
The wind blows
Through my hair,
The waves overflow
And shake the boat,
Amazing that
I’m still afloat
Or not washed away
Into the bay.
So far below
Into the waves,
I see nothing
But blue sky,
Down the chute
I go then back up
To the roof,
And what a view!
I can see the coast
Below and the ships
At sea beyond;
It’s such a thrill
But alas only temporary.
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Thursday, June 3, 2010
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Complication: Screaming River
Downhill all the way,
Time wasted all day;
What a harrowing trip
To the mountain bottom;
Washed away
By a valley stream,
Going flowing;
What a dream,
A nightmare in fact,
An apple cider fountain
Burns my tongue
And chills my bones;
Where am I going
With this?
I wonder
I hear thunder.
Oh no!
And the rains came,
Tumbling down
The waterfall I go;
Cascading balls of fire
And whirlwinds
Buffet the shore,
And the river winds down
Until it comes to the sea;
And I’m back on
The ocean again
Lying on a bed of kelp,
Calling for help,
‘Oh, great galloping Buddha!
What have I gotten
Myself into now!’
Time wasted all day;
What a harrowing trip
To the mountain bottom;
Washed away
By a valley stream,
Going flowing;
What a dream,
A nightmare in fact,
An apple cider fountain
Burns my tongue
And chills my bones;
Where am I going
With this?
I wonder
I hear thunder.
Oh no!
And the rains came,
Tumbling down
The waterfall I go;
Cascading balls of fire
And whirlwinds
Buffet the shore,
And the river winds down
Until it comes to the sea;
And I’m back on
The ocean again
Lying on a bed of kelp,
Calling for help,
‘Oh, great galloping Buddha!
What have I gotten
Myself into now!’
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Complex: From Temple Pillock to Fenceposts
Sometimes practice begins with
Sitting meditation,
And at other times with
Picking oneself up off the floor!
Or, at least,
So it is for me
On days like this,
When rain pounds and wind pummels.
What happens
Between one day
And the other?
Who can say?
Bad news
I suppose:
I never could
Hold my bad news;
Possibly I’d prefer Scotch neat,
But that would only
Dull the senses
And mend no fences.
My rails have come down probably,
Or I’ve fallen off them maybe;
Either way,
I’ve been hanging wire mesh all day.
There’s no way to avoid it:
I have to weld the staple gun;
It’s no fun,
And I’ve only just begun.
The sun is setting though,
Putting on a free show
For all who care to see;
And so, I temporarily set aside my tools
To take in this heartening spectacle.
Sitting meditation,
And at other times with
Picking oneself up off the floor!
Or, at least,
So it is for me
On days like this,
When rain pounds and wind pummels.
What happens
Between one day
And the other?
Who can say?
Bad news
I suppose:
I never could
Hold my bad news;
Possibly I’d prefer Scotch neat,
But that would only
Dull the senses
And mend no fences.
My rails have come down probably,
Or I’ve fallen off them maybe;
Either way,
I’ve been hanging wire mesh all day.
There’s no way to avoid it:
I have to weld the staple gun;
It’s no fun,
And I’ve only just begun.
The sun is setting though,
Putting on a free show
For all who care to see;
And so, I temporarily set aside my tools
To take in this heartening spectacle.
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