Thursday, July 28, 2011

The Thursday Think Tank #59 - Grass

You have the key
to a magical world.
Just go
and find it.

It exists between
each blade of grass:
a perfect microcosm
of a perfect system.

The soil sustains grass-
the grass sustains grazers-
grazers sustain insects and germs;
and they sustain the soil.

Insects and germs:
creatures often despised
by ignorant fools
is why this world is perfect.

All that is
dead and useless
finds its relevance
here; nothing is wasted.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011


A fantasy 
of long lustrous
layered locks is 
what makes me look
longingly at the mirror.
Hair grazing my shoulders,
    brushing against my breasts,
     caressing my hips with its silkiness:
a distant dream. Now it barely scrapes
      my neck, tickles it with coarse choppiness
         and taunts my efforts with stubborn shortness.
       I do all what granny advises: i oil my hair, comb it
    hundred times, scrape my fingernails and massage it 
        lovingly. Yet it remains frustratingly short. I wring my 
       hands at the mirror. When will heads turn as i walk 
      along? And when will men bump into each other 
   at my approach? Mommy may say i am 
  obsessed but is it wrong to desire 
  beauty? We can endlessly
 argue about this.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

The Thursday Think Tank #58 - Nighttime

The full moon 
never looked lovelier;
'His' face was
shining through it.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Dangerous Pleasure

In a dark cave 
of location unmentionable,
pleasure is found. 

The cave is smelly 
like rotten thoughts 
and rotten actions.

Its floor is slippery
like dangerous pleasure
from dangerous actions

And its walls are sticky 
like the consequences 
of those actions. 

The cave can
trap anyone who 
goes too far. 

Saturday, July 16, 2011

The Thursday Think Tank #57 - Loneliness

The world that
exists in your mind
doesn't exist in mine.
So we are lonely people,
you and I.

Even when we share
our innermost thoughts,
reveal naked our souls,
there is a barrier
that separates us;
you are you
and I am I.

Perhaps we can understand
each other's thoughts fully;
we can't live them.

Bubbles become
one with the ether,
with each other
only when they burst.

Friday, July 15, 2011

We Talk

We talk to fill
an abyss:
an expansive desert,
a bottomless ocean
of emptiness
with overflowing emptiness.
It occupies infinite space
yet overflows when filled.
What an insatiable emptiness!

Saturday, July 9, 2011

The battle cry
pierced the sky;
the sky was an orange red
in the dusk, like the bloodshed
that would haunt
soldiers in nightmares, taunt
them of their baseness,
of their human weakness,
for greed of land
that would stain the sand
with blood, and bleach it
with bones; each
corpse a painful sight,
a reminder of a fight
in vain,
each bloodstain
exemplified what it cost,
of little gained and so much lost.