A poetic journey through my mind

Archive for December, 2012

Stuff and Nonsense

Perspective

milk in a cup

happy cats

unhappy cows 

Captain Jane

in my dream

a sea of rubber ducks

and a soap iceberg 

Playmancy?

a way to tell the future

tossing bones

are dogs soothsayers?

Triple Threat 

fleas in summer

on one tail, an itch unending

on three tails, hell on earth

Kamikaze 

trees in the wind

throwing sticks

for me to chase

Kitsune-na-shiteki


On Having (and keeping) Three Tails

 

Inari

 

Upon my birth, a tiny kit, my mothers tail I turned and bit, and snarling once and then again, she pushed me just outside the den. I blinked, and stood, on all fours first, then straightened, with a sake thirst, I wandered forth a while and then I joined the world of learned men. Soon I learned the ways and habits of tengu and poetic rabbits, tanuki tricks and bake-neko, and though lesser known, the bake-gecko. I practiced magic, Inari‘s gift, and learned to run, both straight and swift, the river gods had naught on me, my pride grew great as any tree…and soon, my tails they numbered three.

 

But then I met the inugami, a doggish, loyal sort of kami, and from him learned that tricks have prices, as I lost one tail to his mochi’s slices, and slunk in shame back to Inari, to bow to her and to say sorry. I asked her to forgive me, please, my eyes cast down and on my knees, she laughed and laughed and touched my head, and gave to me a quest instead, to save a village from the plight of oni stalking in the night and shrieking till men died of fright..

 

So back I went onto all fours, and to the village on the shores I ran and changing as I went I came as inugami, sent to save a loyal family who made their living from the sea. They welcomed me with tears of joy, and then I turned into a boy, and smiled at them and bowed so low and vowed that to the shore I’d go, and face the oni without fear, and scare them from their visits here. So down I went, at evenings tide, the fisherman right by my side, his fishing hook in one strong hand, we walked together down the sand. The rest I’ll tell another night, but my it was a lovely fight, and with the oni leader slain, I headed back, my tail to gain…and as I went down came the rain…

 

 

Kitsune-na-shiteki

 

 

 


Solstice

the longest night, a lone light shines,
a red coal in a bowl of blue,
a puff of breath steams in the night,
alighting earth and fire anew.
the bowl is passed, from hand to hand,
and wish by wish the fire grows,
fed by written word and charm,
as twice the circle round it goes.
the third time round, against the clock,
sacred incense is the fare,
the last hand reached, she takes the bowl,
and raises it into the air.
“mother moon and father sun,
take this our wishes and our dreams,
in tribute to the dying year,
and though the night eternal seems,
we thank you for returning warmth,
as father sun is born again,
rejoicing, we too are reborn,
as ever was, and will again!”
the fire flares, the light burns bright,
across the circle shadows flow,
long and slender at their feet,
and dark as ink on midnight snow.
the fire flickers, dies to coals,
as in the distance, roosters call,
the darkness once again pushed back,
the newborn sun illumines all.


Limericks for the Weekly Limerick-Off

Again with the silly…;p

http://www.madkane.com/humor_blog/2012/12/09/limerick-of-the-week-91/

The third one got honorable mention.  We’ll have to see if we can do better next time. 😉

A young man who was rather urbane,
had a sister that some called “insane”,
when crude folks would jeer
he would speak in their ear;
“Careful, she can kill with her brain…”

(If you haven’t watched Joss Whedons “Firefly” series yet, or the movie “Serenity”, the above won’t mean much…but it makes sense in that context, believe me.)

A rich lass who was rather urbane,
enjoyed taking long walks in the rain,
but when summer was dry,
not a cloud in the sky,
she’d make do with a shower of Champagne.

A man who was rather urbane,
from drinking would often abstain,
when friends asked him why,
he would say, with a sigh,
“Well, the shakes make me spill my cocaine.”


FMR

Just a silly little thing I wrote for Family Medicine and Rehab here in Jacksonville,  my doctors office of almost 2 yrs. now.  Kind of a Holidays card to show my appreciation of them.  This, and a sign for my docs office that says “The most frightening words that a doctor can hear:  “I read it on the internet…” ”   😉

 

efficient hands and caring hearts,
souls that yearn to help and heal,
friendly voices, gentle words,
quick minds that know the way you feel.
pills and shots and pain and meds
they help me put behind me,
so if I’m hurt or very ill,
F.M.R. is where you’ll find me!


A River flows

mind of diamond, sharp as sin, secrets held so deep within,
not my secrets, not my war, still I wonder what they made me for.

hunted, broken, lost and found, she knows the ways to go to ground,
she steps outside her minds embrace, to hide from the eternal chase.

she speaks as one, and sometimes two, she hears them speak, the loyal crew,
without words she sees their thoughts, the yes and no, the shouldn’ts and ought’s.

I am she, and sometimes me, and sometimes someone else beside,
my brother and my new family, they don’t know where I go to hide.
I can rove through future, past, the trappings of the worlds embrace,
and hide myself in deepest dark, in endless light and lightless Space.

they chase and hound her, hands of blue, but with her, come her family/crew,
daring both the dark and light, to keep her from their evil sight.

they chase her for the gift they gave, the torment locked so deep inside,
but safe now in the ships soft womb, she knows full well the winning side.
the captain brave, so strong and tall, her brother with his quick sure hands,
who left his life to give her hers, although he seldom understands.

the pilot with his ready laugh, who keeps the ship so straight and true,
the warrior woman, dark and tall, the lovely lady, heart of the crew,
the fixer, sweet as apple pie, the shepherd with his own dark past,
the mercenary, tough and gruff. among them, she belongs, at last.


Wings

why am I still swimming? why do I stay in this stagnant pool,
this stinking morass of blood and bone and soul?
is it because I wish it so? I who once so boldly owned the sky?
Est-ce que…it is because…I have grown old, and can no longer fly.

once were my wings of silk and satin made,
the pearly hues of heaven in their shade.
now they are torn and ripped and ragged things,
I drown in their embrace, my salt tears sting.

no longer can I do more than glimpse the sky so far above,
a bit of cloud, a hint of blue, a memory of long forgotten love.
once begotten love, long gone rotten love, love that was my all…until I found it,
until I felt the work and pain, the desperate loss, the many sharpened edges which surround it.

once were my wings of silk and satin made,
the pearly hues of heaven in their shade.
now they are torn and ripped and ragged things,
I drown in their embrace, my salt tears sting.

the sky is gone, I still swim on, despite my raddled hearts most fervent wish,
I circle the eternal drain, consuming only tasteless pain, sorrow in a cracked ceramic dish.
seasoned with guilt, served by my own hand, a VIP in a restaurant of one,
the body survives, worse, it dares to thrive, a rotting corpse beneath the poisonous sun.

once were my wings of silk and satin made,
the pearly hues of heaven in their shade.
now they are torn and ripped and ragged things,
I drown in their embrace, my salt tears sting.

will you follow me down, will you watch as I drown,
will you witness the wreckage of what once was fine?
in the depths of the well, this secret I tell…
I drown in the stinking sewer of my own mind.