Tiger Riding for Beginners

Traveling Poet Philosopher & Occasional Wiseacre

Posted on March 9, 2026 by B Gourley

some swear guardians
 come to life -- dancing through
  the temple yard...
 but only Autumn nights, and
 after a calabash of wine.

a Seagull stands 
 at a respectful distance
  from a fish stall,
 waiting for the fishmonger
 to do the right thing.

the fixed boulder
 makes great shelter;
  rolling boulders
 make monkey paste:
 how do baby monkeys know?

birdbath grows from
 fungus on a dead log;
  flitting sparrow
 is disappointed to find
 no water remains within.

city landscapers
 find year-round blooms for planters,
  but I'll await
   the wildflowers that grow 
   way up on the hillside.

Gator rests on stump.
 but my mind cannot rest.
  it's not "gator"
 and "stump" in the same place,
 but in the same sentence.

Even in the 
 pristine palace garden,
  gardeners refuse
 to chase one stray, wind-blown leaf
  that tumblers over pavers.

the memory
 of an outdoor cafe
  at city center
 comes to me out of the blue,
 on a frigid Winter day.

bowl in the right
 calabash in the left:
  drunkard empties
 & then fills his cup --
 amid missing time.

dragonhead
 rises up out of a cloud,
  over the city.
 how many see the cloud,
  but not the dragon?