Solitude

 

L O N E L I N E S S 
 
       Beginning with l as in the word long or
Love, followed by o as in oh or, rather
Overwhelmed [with
Numerous whims &
Endless wishes, each
Living a luxurious life in a different realm, while
Interacting with
Nothing but
Everything as
Solid as soothing as your self-sufficient
Selfhood.] With this one line embedded between L (as in
      Long love) & double S (as in super stories)
           
      How can you possibly feel loneliness?


The Sounds & the Climber
 
Down in the valley, you hear a
Whole plethora of noises - loudest are
Croaking & barking; halfway
Uphill, you hear only the whistling
Of winds & murmuring of mists                                                                    
 
Until you come upon the mountaintop
Where you hear, with all your inner &
Outer ears, nothing but a call from
The unheard, the loudest echo of
                Dao in your cloudy mind


Sighting in Solitude
 
Golden teeth glistening 
In the mouth of the city
Silver clouds colliding  
At the tongue tip of day

            Bite off all darkness
They whisper
            & chew the season well.


Solitude
 
just as the moonlight
separated Li Bo
from his drunk shadow,
no other than his other self,
the only human figure
who could understand him,
so the darkness of last night
has compressed all the words
and metaphors in my writing
into a single sheet of paper, which
I can use to wrap my inner being, flying it
into the morning glow
like a folded paper dart
towards the setting sun  
 

Solitary Pursuit    
 
Having nothing better to do, I kill
Time by looking at a traditional
Chinese painting on my iPad
 
Much enlarged, it appears like
A plain sheet of rice paper
Smeared with ink. I view it
 
In the presence of bonsai; I
Drop several thick strokes to the floor
Of history, leaving a few fine lines
 
Behind the sofa, & failing
To catch a colorless corner
Between black and white
 
It is a landscape newly relocated
Into my heart’s backyard. Then I sit
On my legs, meditating about
 
No light in the picture, no
      Shadow of anything, no perspective
As in hell. Isn’t this the art of seeing?
 

Loneliness
 
All feelings are sharable, somehow
Except loneliness
Loneliness that drives you into the very depth
Knowingly
Like a caterpillar retreating, hiding itself
In its own cocoon
Where it keeps gnawing at the wall
      Until it flies out, like a butterfly