I feared a big macaque attack
As I walked by, turning my back.
Though its expression seemed ill-meaning,
I turned to see it was still preening.
Macaque [Lyric Poem]
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Category Archives: Lyric
“Silk-Washing Stream” by Su Shi [w/ Audio]
Stream-washed leaves are glistening.
Someone is boiling cocoons.
Workers gossip, I'm listening.
Dim-eyed man with a cane spoons
Food into a bowl, bending
To pass it before I swoon.
I ask when the bean leaves yellow.
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“Grown about by Fragrant Bushes” by Robert Louis Stevenson [w/ Audio]
Grown about by Fragrant bushes,
Sunken in a winding valley,
Where the clear winds blow
And the shadows come and go,
And the cattle stand and low
And the sheep bells and the linnets
Sing and tinkle musically.
Between the past and the future,
Those two black infinities
Between which our brief life
Flashes a moment and goes out.
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“Of Glory not a Beam is left” (1685) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]
Of Glory not a Beam is left
But her Eternal House --
The Asterisk is for the Dead,
The Living, for the Stars --
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Deer [Lyric Poem]
In the forest, I saw a deer;
It sniffed the air with urgent fear...,
And then resumed its feeding,
Finding the threat of me misleading.
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“The Little Boy Lost” by William Blake [w/ Audio]
Father, father, where are you going
O do not walk so fast.
Speak father, speak to your little boy
Or else I shall be lost,
The night was dark no father was there
The child was wet with dew,
The mire was deep, & the child did weep
And away the vapour flew.
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Black Mamba [Lyric Poem]
The Black Mamba is not black...
Well, it's black inside its mouth,
But if you're getting that view,
Things have definitely gone south.
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“The morns are meeker than they were” (32) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]
The morns are meeker than they were --
The nuts are getting brown --
The berry's cheek is plumper --
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf --
The field a scarlet gown --
Lest I sh'd be old-fashioned
I'll put a trinket on.
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Rhino [Lyric Poem]
Away trots a baby rhino.
It's the smallest rhino that I know,
And, yet, if it trotted on your foot,
Your foot would definitely be kaput.
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“The Paradox” by Paul Laurence Dunbar [w/ Audio]
I am the mother of sorrows,
I am the ender of grief;
I am the bud and the blossom,
I am the late-falling leaf.
I am thy priest and thy poet,
I am thy serf and thy king;
I cure the tears of the heartsick,
When I come near they shall sing.
White are my hands as the snowdrop;
Swart are my fingers as clay;
Dark is my frown as the midnight,
Fair is my brow as the day.
Battle and war are my minions,
Doing my will as divine;
I am the calmer of passions,
Peace is a nursling of mine.
Speak to me gently or curse me,
Seek me or fly from my sight;
I am thy fool in the morning,
Thou art my slave in the night.
Down to the grave will I take thee,
Out from the noise of the strife;
Then shalt thou see me and know me --
Death, then, no longer, but life.
Then shalt thou sing at my coming,
Kiss me with passionate breath,
Clasp me and smile to have thought me
Aught save the foeman of Death.
Come to me, brother, when weary,
Come when thy lonely heart swells;
I'll guide thy footsteps and lead thee
Down where the Dream Woman dwells.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 