DAILY PHOTO: Hội An Waterways
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“Mowing” by Robert Frost [w/ Audio]
There was never a sound beside the wood but one,
And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground.
What was it it whispered? I knew not well myself;
Perhaps it was something about the heat of the sun,
Something, perhaps, about the lack of sound --
And that was why it whispered and did not speak.
It was no dream of the gift of idle hours,
Or easy gold at the hand of fay or elf:
Anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak
To the earnest love that laid the swale in rows,
Not without feeble-pointed spikes of flowers
(Pale orchises), and scared a bright green snake.
The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows.
My long scythe whispered and left the hay to make.
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Monk’s Limerick
There once was a virtuous, old monk
Who never, ever had sex or got drunk.
He lived in silence,
And practiced non-violence...
Till one day, in a funk, he kicked a young monk
In the junk.
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Lone Pine [Haiku]
a lone pine stands --
mangled and misshapen --
above other trees.
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DAILY PHOTO: Watching Cloud Layers from a Mountaintop
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Harmony [Free Verse]
Tap the resonance
And vibrate at the rate
Of those eternal emanations --
The thrumming under-pulse
Of the Universe.
The ripples that can't be heard
Or felt haptically,
But must be tuned into
To feel, otherwise.
Downshift what is you --
Put your Self into idle.
Don't panic
As you start to slide --
Frictionlessly,
A lack of friction that's
Unfamiliar & Uncomfortable,
But which will be the way
One's worldline plays out --
Effortlessly -- to the end.
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“Natural” [Poetry Style #10] by Sikong Tu [w/ Audio]
Stoop anywhere and pluck it up,
But if you look 'round - it's not there.
Any path may lead you to it.
A stroke of the brush becomes Spring,
And the flowers are in full bloom. --
It's like seeing a new year dawn:
Snatch at it and you won't have it.
Seize it by force and you'll be poorer.
Be like the old mountain hermit --
Like duckweed gathered by stream flow.
Find calm amidst storms of feeling
By knowing Heaven's harmonies.
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 tenth of the twenty-four poems.
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Actress Limerick
There once was a popular actress
Who most found cruel, catty, and tactless,
But the very worst part
Was the state of her art,
She only played herself in a different dress.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 