pitchers tuck by buddy don: that thar garden after a rain

after sum frustrayshun with a manuscrip uplode sos it kin turn into a book (whar i had to do a bunch of wurk all over agin sos twood be ackcepted, witch i still gut a bit of that to go), me n miz bd deecided we wood go by the brooklyn botanick garden on the way to ackupunkchur. heres a cuple pitchers i tuck ...





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waka of budouadana: ally?

Assassination
Right outside the pentagon
Of our prime ally
Against such terror proves our
Misplaced trust in dictators.

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pitchers tuck by buddy don: man carryin pigs in chinatown

tuther day whenever me n miz bd wuz in chinatown shoppin, thay cum a man runnin roun a corner a'carryin three hog carcusses on his back. i run after im trine to git a good pitcher, but he wuz a'movin too fast n the traffick wuz in the way. i still tuck one fer a lil proof ...



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pitchers tuck by buddy don: reddy fer the year of the rat?

as mayhap ye dun alreddy know, 2008 is the year of the earth rat , witch it dont ackshly git here till febwairy 7. me n miz bd wuz over in chinatown tuther day n as ye kin see, thays a'gittin reddy to sell sum rats fer good luck ...



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pitchers tuck by buddy don: not yer daddys chrismus musick

me n miz bd finely gut roun to sum shoppin fer the halldaze, witch i tuck along the camra fer sum pitchers n gut thisn of a chinese man playin amazin musick on his erhu. ye shoulda seen im doin sum slidin notes. whuts mos amazin bout it is how this instermint is made sos them strangs never touches the fretbord, witch that means the feller playin it has gut to have a grate ear ... n he shore did. we give im a lil money sos he woodnt git upset at his pitcher bein tuck ...


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pitchers tuck by buddy don: kwan yin

this heres the ackupunkchur lady name of kwan yin, witch as ye kin see, tiz a easy way fer a ackupunkchust to know whar to stick them needles in ye .. that is, ifn she knows whut them lables means n all ...



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waka of budouadana: tears

Some deadly toxins
Can only leave the body
Through grief’s bitter tears,
Their deep sobs and sad sighing
Leaving one refreshed and clean.

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waka of budouadana: axis

Endlessly seeking
The way of the World as it
Turns on its axis,
The fearless find completion,
The timid stale frustration.

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waka of budouadana: inside

One must look inside
Oneself to find true Judgment,
Viewing good and ill
With clear eyes to learn what and
Where and why and who one is.

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waka of budouadana: glow

The warm golden glow
Of the early rising Sun
Radiates life, hope,
The simple joy of being,
To the few who are awake.

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waka of budouadana: illusion

Master of the tides,
Illusion, madmen, poets,
Even woman’s womb,
The Moon seems ever changing,
A trick of reflected light.

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waka of budouadana: token

The peaceful Star shines
Down on all alike, whether
Awake or sleeping,
Token of eternal hope,
Good will and serenity.

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waka of budouadana: lightning

Sudden lightning strikes
The Tower, bringing certain
Total destruction,
Changing all that went before,
Survival creating strength.

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waka of budouadana: chains

Golden chains adorn
Slaves captured by the Devil,
All of whom could free
Themselves by sacrificing
Guilt, hatred and jealousy.

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waka of budouadana: center

Take the center path
Mid excess and abstinence,
For with Temperance
Lie the riches of enough,
The glad poverty of want.

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waka of budouadana: cord

Swift Death cuts the cord
To annihilate decay
With transformation
From what was to what can be,
Dreadful only if defied.

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waka of budouadana: faith

In faith let me be
As resolute as the Hanged Man,
Who went to his death
Believing his cause worthy
Of the final sacrifice.

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waka of budouadana: scales

Universal scales,
Hefted by a stone blind judge,
Measure life’s verdict,
Without regard to station,
Dispensing Justice to all.

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waka of budouadana: threads

The Wheel of Fortune
Like the earth, like the seasons,
Constantly spinning,
Threads together all events,
Stretching from birth to death.

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waka of budouadana: lantern

The Hermit’s lantern
Casts a sphere of radiance
Upon the dirt path,
Its weight a burden he bears
So he does not lose his way

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waka writ by budouadana: cube

With its eight corners,
The cube, a sanctuary
Shape for our houses,
Is Strength both for and against
The wolfpack of convention.

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waka writ by budouadana: chariot

A two-wheeled platform
Drawn by powerful horses,
The Chariot tests
Strength and skill, yet willpower
Alone can keep it on track.

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waka writ by budouadana: lovers

She looks above her
As he gazes on her face,
His hopes as narrow
As seed finding fertile ground,
Hers as broad as the heavens.

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waka writ by budouadana: moebius

The moebius strip,
All surface and no substance,
Eternal outward form
With only one side to show,
Plays the Hierophant of shapes.

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