Ukiyo-e
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Photography allows us to look into the mirror for clues
suggestions / warnings / about who, what and how we are
memorable / elastic / unwavering
Photography allows us to look into the mirror for clues
suggestions / warnings / about who, what and how we are
memorable / elastic / unwavering
Ferocious afternoon waves wind magic
Midnight Blue Ink
Pigment
Prussian Blue
31
Wave cloud
Empty beach lone butterfly
Boat sails into a mirror on silver edges
Sparkling dancing light curls waves
Floating world
Yellow slivers of happiness signal a metaphor
Luxury shadows - deep eyes stare people
Star trails
Strong deliberate wind
Tides
Geo therm o nuclear laughter
Flies a kite
Low season
Energy and matter
Animate and inanimate objects
Grow Your Soul - Prose & Poems Laos/Cambodia
Clouds gather mass
Rain song
Waves curl dance
Empty beach
Sandcastles
Meditation
I appear every seventeen years. What am I?
*
In dreams begin responsibility – W.B. Yeats
Khmer family hauls relatives, pots, pans, kids and laughter
To a never ending beach party
Healthy Fear Doubt & Uncertainty stalks courage
In a random universe
Everyone talks at once
Because they are too poor to pay attention
The loudest one
Is Happy Noise champion
Ladies and gentlemen
Step right
Up
The Greatest Show on Earth!
Buy a ticket
Take the ride
Kid shovels sand
Wave waves farewell to a wave
Lost blind eyed adults
Minus attention span
Discuss whining possibilities
In unforgiving universe
Small skinny children sing
My stomach comes first
Waves of churning
Wisdom seeking wisdom
Laugh
In a floating world Ukiyo-e
Dreams accept responsibility
You become the thing you fight the most
Your mask eats your face
Grow Your Soul - Prose & Poems from Laos / Cambodia
Have luck will travel. A Giresun songbird gave Lucky the all-clear signal. Go.
At 0609 pulling a wheeled bag down 65degrees of click clack Roman stones he met a healthy golden brown dog. They walked to the ULUSOY bus station. The dog picked up a new scent, wagged his tail thanks for the company good luck and wandered away.
Down in the cold BAY piss chamber Lucky played his C harp singing an old blues song, “All my Love’s in Vain...”
Echo passed through: “When the train/bus/plane left the station there were two lights on behind...one light was my baby and the other was my mind...all my love’s in vain.”
Today - Bayram is Sacrifice, a national holiday. Make a sacrifice. Write hello my little fear and hello my littleanger on pieces of paper. Burn them.
Red, yellow, golden autumn leaves littered ground with sound. O sweet season. Mountains conversed inside foggy forests as curling chimney smoke swirled through bone cold villages.
Ukiyo-e. Floating world.
Sacrifice watched people watching people going to visit families. Someone somewhere waited for relatives to arrive with money and stories. Stories were cheap. Money was expensive. Layered characters using verbs wore leather shoes, new designer rags and carried big time.
Lucky remembered a story about a dignified man in Guatemala who walked barefoot from his village to town carrying his best shoes in a bag. On the edge of prosperity he put them on. Envious eyes followed his every step until he walked out of town. He carried them home. That’ll show them.
In Turkish villages after a breakfast of tea, tomatoes, black olives, yellow cheese, brown bread and thin sliced salami men wandered down trails to join friends at a cafe for tea and talk. Some read newspapers. Others fingered anxious worry beads. Passive men focusing on the idiot box watched a Teflon PM slap a grieving Soma coalminer in the face, No one boos me. Take that, idiot.
One man looked for his name in the obituaries. The grim reaper hasn’t found me yet. My luck is holding. I am that I am.
Men cleaned dirt from nails. They brushed lint or a meandering story thread from suit jackets. A gravedigger washed his hands. Someone evaluated the volume of black ink in a fountain pen before spilling words on paper.
The Black Sea was flat blue. A ¾ moon hearing cellos sang shit puke thunder and lightning.
Turkish citizens texted survivors, looked at big time or yakked their hearts out on cells with anxious intention celebrating Sacrifice.