They shut me up in Prose --
As when a little Girl
They put me in the Closet --
Because they liked me "still" --
Still! Could themself have peeped --
And seen my Brain -- go round --
They might as wise have lodged a Bird
For Treason -- in the Pound --
Himself has but to will
And easy as a Star
Look down opon Captivity --
And laugh -- No more have I --
I came across a chubby marmot
In some puffed up outer garment.
A fur coat over its furry coat?
Or mainlining from the gravy boat?
At the beginning there was a huge drop of milk.
Then Doondari came and he created the stone.
Then the stone created iron;
And iron created fire;
And fire created water;
And water created air.
Then Doondari descended the second time.
And he took the five elements
And he shaped them into man.
But man was proud.
Then Doondari created blindness,
and blindness defeated man.
But when blindness became too proud,
Doondari created sleep,
and sleep defeated blindness;
But when sleep became too proud,
Doondari created worry,
and worry defeated sleep;
But when worry became too proud,
Doondari created death,
and death defeated worry.
But then death became too proud,
Doondari descended for the third time,
And he came as Gueno, the eternal one.
And Gueno defeated death.
NOTE: The Fulani (also known as Fula and Fulbe) are a West African herding tribe that live in Mali, Niger, Nigeria, Guinea, and Senegal.
The Red Panda: more red than Panda Bear --
I'll grant you similarity of facial hair.
Why is it not "the Ginger Raccoon?"
Too much like a bamboo-eating Irish buffoon?
I'm happy to be a free Yogi,
growing evermore into inner happiness.
I can have sex with many women
as it helps them find the path of liberation.
Outwardly I'm a fool
and inwardly I live a clear spiritual path.
Outwardly I enjoy wine and women
and inwardly I work for the benefit of all beings.
Outwardly I live for my pleasure
and inwardly I do everything in the right moment.
Outwardly I'm a ragged beggar
and inwardly a blissful Buddha.
Zenith
These griefs
These gardens on and on
Where the toad croons a tender cry skyblue
The hind of silence startled races by
The nightingale that love has bruised sings in
Your body's bush on which I've picked each rose
Our hearts hang from the same pomegranate bough
And in our gaze pomegranate blossoms blow
That falling one by one have strewn the road
Translator: Harry Duncan
Seems wrong to call cat ladies crazy;
It's the perfect pet for the lazy.
Put out some food, water, and a box,
And sit back and be crazy like a fox.
We are fond of calling him "Man's Best Friend,"
What would he call us, if it were he who penned?
I wonder, would he have stayed at our feet,
Had we not mastered the grilling of meat?
Still will I harvest beauty where it grows:
In coloured fungus and the spotted fog
Surprised on foods forgotten; in ditch and bog
Filmed brilliant with irregular rainbows
Of rust and oil, where half a city throws
Its empty tins; and in some spongy log
Whence headlong leaps the oozy emerald frog...
And a black pupil in the green scum shows.
Her the inhabiter of divers places
Surmising at all doors, I push them all.
Oh, you that fearful of a creaking hinge
Turn back forevermore with craven faces,
I tell you Beauty bears an ultra fringe
Unguessed of you upon her gossamer shawl!
Tiger Riding for Beginners 