The Scribbles of a Lonely Traveller

Everything just doesn't go your way
for it's not your day

Why not dress up like a scarecrow
if you feel deep sorrow

Like a ragged man in ragged clothes
run to a most remote place only God knows
take it easy
and let it be

Once an ocean of orange delight
now the blossom is all but out of sight
and the cheerful season is over
leaving behind a mountain of remorse for the ineffable clover

Though admirers have all gone
yet the story of life must keep dragging on

You often sway alone in the wind
like a quiet dandelion
dancing gracefully at a small yard
forgotten by the world

And I
I'm constantly tumbling on many a strange road
like a tumbleweed moving on and on
and I've forgotten the world

In the season of Zephyr
we're ready to hit the road again
but where's our future shelter

Maybe we'll settle down in the same pasture
Maybe not

Let us pray
fate in the long run will bring us together

You don't have to give me a bunch of roses
when I'm leaving, young sis
for they'll turn out a pile of remorse
when tomorrow comes

Just give me a smile
a breeze which keeps me going mile after mile
And I'll treasure it in my memory
for many a century

I wrote a poem last night when sleeping
yet in the morning
I could only vaguely recall

April stayed all the while with us in a fantasy world
after we shook off our weather-beaten bodies
our spirits soaring and navigating through the stars
and settled down on a fairy planet
where souls never feel hungry
and never kill to live

Where we'll remain forever young and pure
for we have no Pandora's box there

Fickle clouds constantly emerge like black ravens
out of nowhere
hide the cheerful sun without warning
and hover over the miserable sky like scavengers
without mercy

This world has been under vilest weather for too long
so is there a need for me
to pour more pitch upon it
or to caw like an ominous crow
I really doubt it

As curse the darkness around this world
I might as well light up a candle

Eighteen is a flowery age
a pretty bud
ready to take a trip with the autumn breeze
like a touring minstrel
carrying only a guitar
and a bunch of white hyacinths
stepping on a red carpet of fallen leaves
and traveling to many exotic small towns

The night when you're leaving
I'll pluck two brightest stars in the sky for your earrings
to accompany you on the journey
to lighten up your way in the darkest moment
and to let you think of me if you're lonely

I've been waiting by the window of August
for the autumn to come by
or just to fly by
like a migrating locust
but I'm afraid I can't hang on any longer
for it's still mid summer

I don't feel sorrow
for even a green leaf can turn yellow
wither at any minute
and fall from its mother tree

I'm not going to whine but laugh
for we're free at last
we're free at last
Thank God almighty we're free at last

Once upon a time
when I was looking for a dime
for I had lost a nickel
I spotted a huge dog without a muzzle
roaming free in the street

I looked around and found a dude nearby
so I guessed he was the guy
that owned the mean canine
that was ready to run through the red line

So I advised him to use a leash
but he said a leash was as good as trash
for his dog never bit people

Would you be included in the people
if you were not him but me

Only good people die young
so that's why
there are fewer and fewer around

This burning earth must have gone awry
so that's why
numerous good people have chosen
to ascend to heaven

I like the proverbial homily in your latest poem. Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth. When terminal sickness strikes the innocent young, I think the contrition is multiplied. Their bodies ascend, but their spirits forever dwell with us. Enjoyed your sentient poem.

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Originally Posted by virtuoso

I like the proverbial homily in your latest poem. Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth. When terminal sickness strikes the innocent young, I think the contrition is multiplied. Their bodies ascend, but their spirits forever dwell with us. Enjoyed your sentient poem.

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Thanks, Virtuoso, for the feedback.
Blessed are the meek~~Amen.

When I open wide my eyes to look for my old hometown,
it seems as far as the farthest star in a night sky,
and in a blink of an eye, it's gone.

When I close my eyes,
it's right in front of me, in the mind's eye,
as appealing as a rural tapestry,
with boys running with the wind in a field,
girls playing with water by a brook!

One day
when I eventually close my eyes
and never wake up,
I wonder
whether my green green grass of home will still exist
as well as this illusory universe.

Everything seems fresh as green leaves
after a night of high winds along with torrential rains
It's so serene that I'd think I'm in Heaven

I forget I'm still in the eye of a typhoon
the earth is still turning round and round
and age-old time is still running

If only I could turn myself into the artificial sunflowers
hanging on the wall over my bed

After all these years
they are still young and beautiful
and never fails to bring me delightful smiles
whether it's summer or winter

Please
Mr. Early Summer Frog
if you can't help but croak
do it quietly
for fear that you might wake up
Ms. Young Butterfly from her spring dream

Why the king of beasts isn't viewed as civilized
as we human beings
Probably it's because we eat steaks
with a knife and fork
while they do so with their dirty claws
and that's not proper table manners

When thirsty
you drink fresh morning dew gracefully
yet when hungry
you feed on pests voraciously

In spite of being a colorful beauty
you show me
life can be so simple and easy

Nice little digestive pieces, and certainly amusing. Watch out for redundancies like "delightful smiles". Now, aren't we the ultimate king of the beasts? The difference isn't that we have better table manners, it's that we are at the top of the food chain with the means to eat even the king of the beasts. Just food for thought :).

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Originally Posted by Haunted

Nice little digestive pieces, and certainly amusing. Watch out for redundancies like "delightful smiles". Now, aren't we the ultimate king of the beasts? The difference isn't that we have better table manners, it's that we are at the top of the food chain with the means to eat even the king of the beasts. Just food for thought :).

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Thanks, Haunted, for the feedback.
I read of a joke ages ago: the difference between uncivilized and civilized cannibals is that the latter now eat people with a knife and fork.

Last night
I was kissed in my dream
by a dew drop mysterious, pretty, and young
yet even before the Sun rose
she was gone

What was going on
I tried to recall when I woke up in the morning
why couldn't a thing of joy be enduring

... tailor lingers in the shadows, silent and smiling - only to vanish as a cat's-paw upon a lazy stream; as not to disturb the poet.

ta (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

Quote:

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Originally Posted by tailor STATELY

... tailor lingers in the shadows - only to vanish as a cat's-paw in a lazy stream, silent and smiling; as not to disturb the poet.

ta (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

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Thanks, Tailor, for the feedback.
In this lazy summer, I feel giddy and dizzy if I don't read a reply now and then.

If you still feel lazy from the summer heat
I'll turn myself into a falling leaf
to knock at your window
and to let out
the most gorgeous season is here to stay now
so that you may open your heart
like your eyes
to feel the golden hues
gradually taking over the green rice field
as well as the forest on the hill

A faded yellow eucalyptus leaf is falling
in the early morning
when the air is still crispy fresh

It simply keeps falling
without any breeze
not on the flowery meadow a few meters away
but on the hood of my car in a parking lot
when September has not yet come

When I open wide my eyes to look for my old hometown,
it seems as far as the farthest star in a night sky,
and in a blink of an eye, it's gone.

When I close my eyes,
it's right in front of me, in the mind's eye,
as appealing as a rural tapestry,
with boys running with the wind in a field,
girls playing with water by a brook!

One day
when I eventually close my eyes
and never wake up,
I wonder
whether my green grass of home will still exist
as well as this illusory universe.

Hello old friend. Good to read you again and good to see you are still flora obsessed ;)

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Originally Posted by Jerrybaldy

Hello old friend. Good to read you again and good to see you are still flora obsessed ;)

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Good to read your feedback for me again, old friend.
All the best to you

Come September
let me hold your hand
a little white hand
Let's take a stroll in the shade of pines
near a lotus pond

Come September
let's have a taste of early autumn
a primitive aroma of lotuses
and grass when the summer heat
has finally subsided

It's a pity I can't see your face
for you're definitely as fickle as this heart
Yet when you're here to grace
I can sense my heart
swaying gently with the tree you caress

Where are the myriad sounds of carefree laughter
we left in the air
while we were shooting the breeze
in the spring

Are they still blowing in the wind
or turning into tears
that can't bear to roll down our cheeks
like faded leaves
when fall's just around the corner

Although I have enjoyed most of what you have posted, the last three were very pretty.

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Originally Posted by Buh4Bee

Although I have enjoyed most of what you have posted, the last three were very pretty.

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Thanks, Buh, for your kind words.

Is it the summer passion
or autumn breeze
that transforms my world into a lotus paradise
dripping with pure white
peaceful purple and soothing blue delight

Not long ago I still remember
there was nothing but mud with troubled water
right in the center of the pond

I'm gaping in awe without a word but sigh
sighing at your pure beauty
when you swing suavely in a sea of rice paddy

You're a sister golden hair
my belle forever
though weighed heavily with sweet burden
of mellow and golden

Yet I know for some reason
you're still craving for a rainy season

For I'm a straw man standing right in front
complaining about the long dry season
with a grunt

Since life is nothing but a dream,
I'll spend my whole life dreaming about you,
dreaming you and I
living in a garden of innocence.

There I'll be a farmer,
weed the garden in the daytime,
write poems for you in the free time,
and read them aloud
by the fireplace in the evening.

I spread out my heart like a page of poetry
underneath a maple tree
Perhaps some floating leaves may fall right upon it
and paint a foliage vignette on it

A long shadow following a lone man
along a mountain trail
disappears
in a cherry tree shade

a leaf of a poetry book
is opened
under a pine tree

and a butterfly is flurrying its way home
on a fall afternoon

The autumn breeze is whispering to me
in a sweet olive tree
in the morning

Though I have a yearning
to write a poem
at this fragrant moment
for you
yet my sky has been painted blue
since I last saw you
when you were young as a poppy swaying
in the spring

I see through my window pane
in a small lane
all's quiet and calm
except for a few birds singing a psalm
praising the serenity of autumn
in the afternoon

The sky is slate blue today
Maybe I should bury my sorrow
in the soil with some daisy seeds before it's too late
and in autumn I'll patiently wait
for them to grow into delightful yellow
on the meadow