There once was an artist, Bohemian,
Who thought himself quite the comedian.
Peers thought he lacked heart,
& didn't suffer for his art,
But they suffered the farts of that Bohemian comedian.
Bohemian Limerick
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Walk with a mind that's clear and unburdened,
With life force that flares -n- flows like rainbows,
Traversing the witch's gorge through the mountains --
Among the floating clouds and blowing winds.
Drink up the spiritual; dine on the real;
Let them ever build up in your body.
Emulate the health and might of the gods,
Preserve your energy through harmony.
Be one with Heaven, be one with the Earth.
See in yourself divine transformations.
Know all this to the utmost -- be all this,
And hold on to it 'til the bitter end.
NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry. It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a translation of the eighth of the twenty-four poems.
Captain America: Winter Soldier, Vol. 1 by Ed BrubakerThrough all the pleasant meadow-side
The grass grew shoulder-high,
Till the shining scythes went far and wide
And cut it down to dry.
These green and sweetly smelling crops
They led in wagons home;
And they piled them here in mountain tops
For mountaineers to roam.
Here is Mount Clear, Mount Rusty-Nail,
Mount Eagle and Mount High --
The mice that in these mountains dwell,
No happier are than I!
O what a joy to clamber there,
O what a place for play,
With the sweet, the dim, the dusty air,
The happy hills of hay!

a cave-like forest:
then valley and sun align,
and one ‘s outside-in.




herons & egrets
wade in pond algae,
blindly fishing.

Oh, no, no! Don’t you get your gun.
It’s not that kind of wicked fun.
It’s just that rough and tumble stuff
Where one can say, “Enough ‘s enough!”
And go your separate ways, knowing
That the fight is still ongoing,
And it’ll never really be done
‘Cause it’d never truly begun.