lean street kitten:
face much older than its
scrawny body.
Tag Archives: age
Long Live Bonsai [Senryū]
Bright Autumn [Free Verse]
I want a bright Autumn --
brisk & clear.
I want a colorful Fall,
not one in which cold gray
blanches all brilliant shades.
I want a windy Autumn:
full of movement that
swirls & lifts anything
that's light enough.
I want an Autumn that
draws people outside,
not one that pens them.
I don't mind a bite of cold
as long as I can see white
clouds float through blue skies.
PROMPT: Subject in School
Depends upon my age and phase [as in whether I wanted to be a cowboy, a doctor, a race car driver, Batman, or a misanthrope / rapscallion at that particular time.]
Generally speaking, I had the strange (not to mention unproductive) tendency for science to top of the list while mathematics was usually dead last.
PROMPT: Historical Events
What major historical events do you remember?
Alexander takes Egypt, the death of Kublai Khan, the War of 1812, the Teapot Dome Scandal… You know, the biggies.
Stone Bridge [Haiku]
Mountain Envy [Free Verse]
“Broadminded” [Poetry Style #23 (旷达)] by Sikong Tu [w/ Audio]
One may live a century --
Short span though it may be:
Joys are bitterly brief
And sorrows are many.
You may take a wine jug
On your wisteria rounds:
See flowers grow to the eves
As sparse rains wet the grounds.
And when the wine is gone,
One strolls with cane and croons.
We become wizened with age;
South Mount, fair through countless moons.
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 (二十四诗品.) It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a crude translation of the twenty-third of the twenty-four poems. This poem’s Chinese title is 旷达, which has been translated as: “Illumed” [Giles,] “Big-hearted and Expansive [Barnstone and Ping,] “Expansive,” and “Open-minded.”
Young & Old [Kyōka]
The Beauty of the Ancient [Free Verse]
There's something beloved about
an ancient place.
Entropy increases.
Nature devours.
Nothing lasts forever.
Nothing of man can be built of stone
sturdy enough or steel resistant
enough to become ancient
by mere persistence.
It must be loved.
Someone must clean the grass
from the cracks, must scrub
moss & mold, must replace
pieces that slough off...
(& must do it all with tender
craftsmanship.)
I suspect anything ancient
that's higher than my knee
is a Theseus's ship:
rebuilt stone by stone through the ages
until only a wafting idea of the place
remains ancient.








