Memories like chinese poems


A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.
~ Lao Tzu

50

homesick for something
I cannot name, for home
beyond all other homes?
I am alone in a foreign land

in love with foreigners
sick of the locals
I do not want to speak
or conform to the customs

of living, sowing, reaping
i search for the Tao
but cannot find it, it evades
my grasp, like the endlessly

awake stars, they do not sleep
for light is bled in rivers
of heaven, like poems
mild-mannered echoing down

the centuries, poorly translated
by tongues who no longer speak
with the ancients, the ragged fringe
to be a rare fellow lost among

the songs, i hear music on the lips
of the clouds, that do not dream
but draw, day after day
to bid each other a sad farewell

as neighbors, as friends, as heart-broken
children that have no place
but the wiping of eyes
the lingers at the fork in the road.

JADE FLOWER BUDDHA


89

In the dynasty of our impoverished love
Like master and servant, I to you
Couldn’t serve, so I depart as a
Luminous white horse, across the fields

In the deep firm breath of
The dreams that I hold dear, you do not
I carry the Eastern skies
In my bosom, galloping with bhaki-trance

Nomadic, not understanding distinctions
Of class, and wealth and human hierarchy
I enter then, the Summer Palace
Of the downtrodden, where peasants

Survive to sleep on staw and spirit
With but one meal a day, and time
To conquer my own vain fears
In the unaccompanied court of my woe

The Jade flowers will not fall
No banner will be attached to my name
No sons or daughters to call me ‘father’
I would hurry to hold a better future

But I cannot, I am sick with summer dread
Till the Queen of the Stars leans down to me
And whispers the next step in my destiny
In spite of great failure, she makes me happy.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/falling-and-over-again-118869527

Poetry