Flowing

Strolling by a garden,
I saw a ruined buddha.

Its moon face is turned up,
contemplating.

Jagged rays reveal jagged stone
broken at the neck.

Its torso, torn in three, is robed in green moss,
the only part left still wanting to cling.

Its open palm, turned out and up,
catches a trickle of water from an adjacent spring.

At its exhausted and calloused feet,
lotus blossoms grow.

As heat breaks the statue smaller,
sweat soaks my forehead.

Cupping my hands at the light trickle
to freshen my face, water gets disturbed

and the jade eyes of the buddha
burst into tears.

Published June 21st, 2006.

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Taxidermist Solliloquy

yellow and green feathers
out-stretched wings grasping
air bridging clouds together
fanning away dust, vapor, smoke & mist
with the distraction of flight.

why do you droop like so?
you were spared from worms, earth & decay
be grateful you were plucked from mortality
and is now mounted on permanence.

This is another old poem written by Richard. It was written published in his older blog on June 11th, 2005. For him, this is a glimpse into the mind of a deranged and obsessed person who destroys the object of his love. What does this mean to you? He'd appreciate if you put your own interpretation in.

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