~Zen Mountain~

[My Erotic Trail]

the wind makes leaves
leave
the sun encouraging grass
to grow
the heaven's stars invite man
to soar

 

[My Erotic Trail]

build up of twig thoughts
endure, accumilated, bottled up
a damn released in a fingers touch

 

[My Erotic Trail]

wrestling thoughts

when the soul summersaults
limbless acrobats
to tightly grip a strangle hold
upon reasoning

second guessing
previous maneuvers
kicking yourself in the butt
while in a head lock

wrenching situations
that blink by a black eye
neuron knuckles clinched
on the grey matter mat

grasping a counter balance
understanding your opponent
hoping to win
while wrestling thoughts

 

[RhymeFairy]

build up of twig thoughts
endure, accumilated, bottled up
a damn released in a fingers touch

autumn fingers touch
rebirthing dark colors, bright moods
into the forest of ever after ...


~ just a thought

 

[My Erotic Trail]

The duality in connections
relationships relativity
for a gun is no good without bullets
or a vehicle without fuel
it has no choice
but to sit and wait
for the other

She's the water
that quenches my thirst
or fuels my fire
feeling the warmth
that grows between two
laying in a bed under covers

If life is best lived
with love in it
then she would be the heart
and I would be
the blood

it takes two
to tango

 

[My Erotic Trail]

dreams all night
lead to
twighlight flights

watching stars disolve
in the river

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Shoveling Snow With Buddha
by Billy Collins

In the usual iconography of the temple or the local Wok
you would never see him doing such a thing,
tossing the dry snow over a mountain
of his bare, round shoulder,
his hair tied in a knot,
a model of concentration.

Sitting is more his speed, if that is the word
for what he does, or does not do.

Even the season is wrong for him.
In all his manifestations, is it not warm or slightly humid?
Is this not implied by his serene expression,
that smile so wide it wraps itself around the waist of the universe?

But here we are, working our way down the driveway,
one shovelful at a time.
We toss the light powder into the clear air.
We feel the cold mist on our faces.
And with every heave we disappear
and become lost to each other
in these sudden clouds of our own making,
these fountain-bursts of snow.

This is so much better than a sermon in church,
I say out loud, but Buddha keeps on shoveling.
This is the true religion, the religion of snow,
and sunlight and winter geese barking in the sky,
I say, but he is too busy to hear me.

He has thrown himself into shoveling snow
as if it were the purpose of existence,
as if the sign of a perfect life were a clear driveway
you could back the car down easily
and drive off into the vanities of the world
with a broken heater fan and a song on the radio.

All morning long we work side by side,
me with my commentary
and he inside his generous pocket of silence,
until the hour is nearly noon
and the snow is piled high all around us;
then, I hear him speak.

After this, he asks,
can we go inside and play cards?

Certainly, I reply, and I will heat some milk
and bring cups of hot chocolate to the table
while you shuffle the deck.
and our boots stand dripping by the door.

Aaah, says the Buddha, lifting his eyes
and leaning for a moment on his shovel
before he drives the thin blade again
deep into the glittering white snow.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Rippled water slapping lightly
against a log, close to shore.

One end sloped into the river,
the log gradually rose upward.

A row of turtles bask in the sun
on this log was room for no more.

A turtle swam up to this log
and crawled up the 'ramp' side.

Each turtle inched upward, pushing more
to make some more room for the new.

Bumping, stepping, tiny feet shuffling,
each shell 'clanking' and 'scraping!'

Side stepping at the gathering
toe to toe and long necks rose.

Till finally the turtle that's at the top
is nudged to a dive, in the water it plopped!

Rippled water splashing loudly
near this log close to shore.

Up to the log this turtle came swimming.
Starting back up, the ramp's, begining.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

waterfowl
cat-tails
bobbing decoys

rusty rifle
aged hands

the last hunt
of an elderly man

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Breaking the Ice with Buddha
by Art

In the idealistic Temple of my soul
out in the cold, shoveling snow.
He sits cross-legged, waving his hand in the air
white as a snow capped mountain, his head
shaven for hair may knot and strangle concentration.

Tossing frozen rain, he will not do
he'll calls it, 'meaningless labor.'
"What is it you are doing?" He broke the ice.

"Shoveling snow" I tried to ignore him
driving the beveled blade deep into the snow.
His suggestion would be; to let mother nature do this work
when ever she gets around to warming up the sun
simply let it melt away.

"Snowflake's enemy," he calls to me
last summer he called me 'Yard Artist' when I cut the lawn.
"Why not use the portable propane flame throwing heater and melt the snow instantly?" He suggested.

"Because, I am almost out of propane!" I exclaimed,
my hands wrapped firmly around the shovel's handle
releasing another load of white poop and snow butterflies.

"Melt the snow with what propane there is
then drive to aquire more."
His words stuck in my mind where he sat,
like a wet tongue on a flag pole.

I stormed to the garage
retrieved the portable propane heater and turned it on
it blasted a six inch flame and a four foot stream of heat
in a jiffy I had melted the snow in the driveway
wondering why this method had not been thought of before.

"Is Buddha a genius?"

He belly laughed his permanent jaded smile
I was standing in an ankle deep lake
of slowly freezing water
it had no way to trail off
from mounds of shoveled snow as far as I can see,
"You can not manipulate the elements
without creating an alternate problem. Ying Yang!"

"Do you have any skates," He asked
as the water turned into a five inch thick slate of ice
trying to turn a problem into a blessing.
"Need a jack-hammer?" He snickered.
I could've strangled him but that would be suicide.

If acceptance is the key to tranquility
then I will never be tranquil
because I have a hard time understanding
why the price of propane doubled since yesterday.
"If one man has liquid heat and another does not;
their relationship becomes balanced by currency...
when it snows!"

Maybe Buddha will bless me with a hot sun tomorrow
or he will be there, enlightening me, while I
shovel snow

...and break the ice!

 

[My Erotic Trail]

outer limits

frustration; a sign of a limited mind
that has reached its limitations
anything above and beyond
must be, the outer limits

The imagination soars
in a labrynith of possibilities
seeking the mystic origin
of the twighlight zone

awakened in a dream
asleep while time travels
walking through a day
never placing a foot in reality

the inner circle of thought
a sixth sense is found
gazing at the infinite horizon
the outer limits

 

[My Erotic Trail]

a frozen swan
sat in a punch bowl
melting

 

[My Erotic Trail]

a little tiny creek
lays in a trickling wake
for nothing except the rain
pounded by liquid love
gathering in pools
caressing swirls
by its overwehlming passing
yeilding to its passionate power
as the hills umbrella avenues
of gravity fed miniture rivers
that converged, mix and breakaway

engulfed in its being
pounded by its growing fury
as it rises and rises, swelling
ascending above the creek banks
ripping the dirt from rooted trees
submerged in its essence
capturing and dragging everything
from leafs to twigs into its
whirling swells a drift
in a fast flowing flood
the water way roars

from a little creek

 

[RhymeFairy]

a little tiny creek
lays in a trickling wake
for nothing except the rain
pounded by liquid love
gathering in pools
caressing swirls
by its overwehlming passing
yeilding to its passionate power
as the hills umbrella avenues
of gravity fed miniture rivers
that converged, mix and breakaway

engulfed in its being
pounded by its growing fury
as it rises and rises, swelling
ascending above the creek banks
ripping the dirt from rooted trees
submerged in its essence
capturing and dragging everything
from leafs to twigs into its
whirling swells a drift
in a fast flowing flood
the water way roars

from a little creek

I love this one Art ...
Touches my heart in a sweet easy goin' way. Then you pulled me into your currents to see and test the waters brew. Whatever that means, lol. Nice wording and great imagery ...

 

[My Erotic Trail]

I love this one Art ...
Touches my heart in a sweet easy goin' way. Then you pulled me into your currents to see and test the waters brew. Whatever that means, lol. Nice wording and great imagery ...

thanks RF... perhaps a little more tweekin'... eh'

there is a creek near by and it is always so small
we had a rain that flooded and the creek swole and engulfed everything in its wake, it was AWESOME and showed its potential for being a little creek that can become very powerful.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

the wolves do not only snarl
at their own, packed
similar to sardines
on a patch of grass
that was once as far
as the eyes could see.

land divided in time
like the cracked crust
of a dried up lake bed
awaiting the day it rains
and the land is one

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Snow owl
is rarely seen
perched
near a field of snow
or a fast moving cloud
across the sky

 

[MyNecroticSnail]

a duck quacks
a dog barks
and the trail goes on and on

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Snow owl
is rarely seen
perched
near a field of snow
or a fast moving cloud
across the sky

an illusion
of the mind's eye

The shrilling call
across the meadow
hunger pains relay
perched in a tree
of poetry
the Snow owl
unseen

 

[My Erotic Trail]

wolves of the world

Cunning teeth feast
a frenzied ownership of flesh and bone
lapping life without gratitude
teaching pups to scrap for a scrap
to bare fearful fangs
for dominance which is not debatable
without a contact confrontation

Wolves will not only snarl
at their own, packed
similar to a can of sardines
on a patch of grass pinned by boundaries,
in the land of the free

Where minds and time divided
the checkerboard cracks
in the Earth's crust
similar to a dried up lake bed,
that awaits the day it rains
and the land will become one

Will they find serenity
in a mountain vision
gazing at a sky scraper sky line
or the tranquility of an orchard grove
where vehicles are lined
on uni-lateral roads

Beautiful fluffy pure white clouds
float over the wolves den
mirrored in glass, seventy stories high
pollution and progress
the harmony of nature

the beauty of their duality
resides only behind a veil
camouflaging the scaring
and the poison it brews
reaping the flesh and leaving a carcass

a multitude of horizons,
may never melt together
to many perspectives
howling at the moon
from hungry teeth's need
the meek will be victims of greed
where the wolves of the world
have marked their boundaries

 

[My Erotic Trail]

how about an opinion?

wolves of the world

Cunning teeth feast
a frenzied ownership of flesh and bone
lapping life without gratitude
teaching pups to scrap for a scrap
to bare fearful fangs
for dominance which is not debatable
without a contact confrontation

Wolves will not only snarl
at their own, packed
similar to a can of sardines
on a patch of grass pinned by boundaries,
in the land of the free

Where minds and time divided
the checkerboard cracks
in the Earth's crust
similar to a dried up lake bed,
that awaits the day it rains
and the land will become one

Will they find serenity
in a mountain vision
gazing at a sky scraper sky line
or the tranquility of an orchard grove
where vehicles are lined
on uni-lateral roads

Beautiful fluffy pure white clouds
float over the wolves den
mirrored in glass, seventy stories high
pollution and progress
the harmony of nature

the beauty of their duality
resides only behind a veil
camouflaging the scaring
and the poison it brews
reaping the flesh and leaving a carcass

a multitude of horizons,
may never melt together
to many perspectives
howling at the moon
from hungry teeth's need
the meek will be victims of greed
where the wolves of the world
have marked their boundaries

 

[My Erotic Trail]

the great white oak
holds an enscripted declaration
ecrypted deeply in its rings and grain
for the keeper of balance
entrusted to ensure nature's harmony

is the snow owl

for when life first rose towards the sun
and family trees spread across the land
like pollen in the wind
reaching out with its branches
in hopes it will grace them by landing

a snow owl

orchestrating harmony
the snow owl whispers instructions
to the woodpecker and the beaver,
which tree is good
and which tree is their's
the ants, termites and bear
which leaves to remove

each spring sprouts
the next generation of leafs,
a cluster of new life
that will bask in the summer sun
and shed dew drop tears

When winter comes
and their essence is
severed from the tree
falling, soar on the last wind
to be absorbed into the earth

in a field of winter's white
a great spirit wind becons
perched in a leaf-less tree
un-seen, will be... the snow owl

 

[My Erotic Trail]

the nail that sticks out
gets hammered
.................................
the morning after
the night before

 

[My Erotic Trail]

a mother's heart
beats

lovingly
consistantly

warmly

till opened

 

[Unbridled_Passion]

The Eagle

As the sun rises
over the mountains,
the majestic bird
takes flight

Stretching his wings
after a long night's rest,
he gracefully glides
through the morning air

Bald head gleaming
in the rays of sun,
the sky is his domain,
for here he is master

As he returns to his nest
the Eagle's call
echoes
throughout the land