Welcome to the masquerade!
It is your home from now on.
The you you were will soon fade
as you play out the long con.
Welcome to the masquerade!
Where all faces are untrue.
We are just the roles we've played,
not the selves we never knew.
Welcome to the masquerade!
Do you know just who I am?
I'm only what I've conveyed.
It's the "real me" that's a sham!
ripples on a pond:
the day seems still & windless,
but, somewhere, air moves.
a still dragonfly
looks perched & ready,
but then falls dead.
moss-covered limbs break the water's surface, unmoved by the flow.
among detritus,
an arm breaches the surface:
not waving / not drowning.
rainy autumn day: wet leaves drop heavily as a lazy mob.
Li Bai fills his cup; Li Bai loves his wine; Li Bai sits in moonlight, staring at the sky.
The mountain
was so long ago.
Yet, I feel its pulse
throbbing under foot --
into my ever-loving sole.
[You thought I was going to say:
"everlasting soul," didn't you?
Do you think my soles
inconsequential in comparison
to my soul?]
Nothing is firmer or finer
than the point at which
I touch (& know) the earth,
than the point which
presses the real,
and, thus, by which I have
evidence that I live.
[The ghost feels nothing in its soles --
if such a being exists.]
These lowly old soles connect me
to all that is, was, and ever shall be.
How to pick a tree
that one can be resigned
to sit under until
Enlightenment?
If the choice is hard,
you are not ready.
If the choice is easy,
you are not ready.
If there is no choice,
perhaps, you're ready.
Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing.
All art is quite useless.
The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame.
A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures. But inferior poets are fascinating.
You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 