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?
Red Panda [Lyric Poem]
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“I’m Happy to Be a Free Yogi” by Drukpa Kunley [w/ Audio]
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.
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Butterfly [Lyric Poem]
Poor, old butterfly lost a chunk of wing.
It’s not that it bleeds, not that it stings,
It’s that it can never go where it aims;
It pulls left, no matter how it strains.
Exhausted, it parks, becoming living remains.
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Reunited [Haiku]
DAILY PHOTO: Lalbagh Glasshouse Under Gray Skies
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“Toward the South” by Guillaume Apollinaire [w/ Audio]
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
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Cat [Lyric Poem]
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.
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DAILY PHOTO: Huayna Picchu
Image
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Dog [Lyric Poem]
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?
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“Still will I harvest beauty where it grows” by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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 