Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

(the return)

fresh from wu tai shan
with a cart full of
new scrolls
they had run out of
wine up in them mountains
now old Li liked to do
a bit of fishing
he'd do it down
on dragon's cove
the days were warm
and the moon was rising
fast into the dawns blue sky
fingers pointing everywhere
the wood flute could
be heard over the valley
so the wine flowed
and the fish
had another day to grow
wiser.....

the luck of the fish
one more swim
to eternity

behind a blade of grass
peace making grin
over simplified
he ran the voodoo down
jazz rhythms reigned
in tang dynasty china
only the instruments
were changed to protect
the innocent
dragnet warriors circumnavigated
that great wall finding cracks
providing deep guttaral sounds
ooooommmmmmm!!!
ruled the fog shrouded
chuangnan mountain range
all the time the man
on cold mountain held
sway over even the greatest
of wordsmith psyches
traveling exiled war torn provinces
master Li would often
encounter this feeling eminating
from the tien tai range
unencumbered beckonings
about words written on rock walls
visions of wanderlust viewed in streams
there was no search, there was only
a longing that he had to leave
it alone, thoughts like these muddied
old Li Po's drunken reveries

Mark, this thread has the best poetry I've seen you write.

thanks

mountain tasting
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
still climbing
eating
drinking
living
waking in the midst
of the do
simplified
directed
continually unwinding
saddled to nothing
but the do
it won't go away
only getting better

.....storied lives, alone in the mountains.....exiled
examination wanderer, it all came out as poetry....
man facing west but looking east, from whence
he came.....all the willie shakes to kingdom come
mountain recluses looking like what you'd call bums....
no man or woman homeless beneath the big hat sky.

li po passed the government test
climatic train ride to oblivion
rice wine consumed with
enigmatic friends
still he wondered why she said
what she said
sure that his best was behind him
he had even endeavored to
keep out of the poetic fray
through the cold cold winter
he pondered what she said
one night of rice wine drinking
with his friends offered the clue
it remains a secret to this day

yes, for a moment all too brief,
the world exhaled, the jazz wailed,
the scroll rolled and wine flowed,
the floating zendo rode the waves,
the Zen lunatics climbed new peaks
and translated the sky's poetry, and
followed old Hanshan's footsteps,
the cold mountain running water,
the sound of conscious streams,
the intensity of rock silence,
the break on through at last,
for a moment all too brief...

Waiting beneath the
mountains
Longing to see them
from inside my abode
I walk out upon historic
streets
At a square corner
Crossroads of history
I feel the mountains
I can even taste the mountains
The cars rumble by just like
wagons of days that disappeared
Long live those mountains
Cherish their majesty
I walk beneath the mountains
till only the mountains remain

Li Po slid down the mountain
he did not fall
it was a joyous drunken slide
oozing past the everlasting
sacred wine held intact
singing the mountain as
he descended beneath
the early morning sky
like a big wave surfer
he floated down cliff faces
rocks shimmering in the
dew drenched dawn
bluer than blue
he united with the decent
first peach then fiery red
the sun arose over that
Tien Tai mountain range
pulling up at the precipice
of a deep ravine he missed
the mountain while he
watched the mountain
disappear behind

miles and miles of China
mountains misting
in purple hazes
Henry M. found yellow
and the amazing kinship
of a Mongols photo
on his bathroom wall
Li Po drank and drank
rice wine
grape wine
home brew
beer
anything that would
fulfill the fantasy
no delusion
no confusion
only the mountain
solid
truer than true
bluer then blue
he sat beneath
missing the mountain
if only he'd looked behind
the scent of the wild
the loneliness smile
knowing all the while
it was there
if only he dared to look
glimpse the golden
mists of time
yet the forward
stood in the way
& he could not settle down
to feel.....the mountain

A man that came over and put my easel together
Normally he puts up circus tents all over the world