waka of budouadana: orbits

The changing seasons –
Pink flowers, green fronds, brown leaves,
Winter's white silence –
Parade as our tilted earth
Constantly orbits the sun.

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

pitchers tuck by buddy don: bare trees of bryant park

whenever me n miz bd wuz a'cummin home frum that thar orchid show up at the new york botanickull garden, i seen how the lite wuz a'shinin n tuck this here pitcher of them sycamores in bryant park ...



(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

pitchers tuck by buddy don: tuck durin our trip to jersey city

yesterdy me n miz bd tuck the path train to journal square over in jersey city sos we could git our drivers licents updated ere they eggspired. we had to have forty leven differnt forms of eye-dee incloodin our passports n soshul scurty cards n proof that we live whar we do. but whenever we gut over thar, twuz all over in under fifteen mints! i couldnt hardly bleeve how good they gut it all plannd out.

it wuz over so quick that it give me a chants to take a cuple pitchers, startin with a statchew miz bd shown me, witch as ye kin planely see, tiz jackie robinson ...




thay wuz a plack that eggsplaind bout the statchew n jackie robinson ...


we tuck the path train back home ...


(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

feelins of buddy don: ouch

i tuck a day of vacayshun today sos i could stay up way past my bed time to watch them vol mens bball team play agin loovull. i wuz really hopin we could finely beat a rick pitinos team after loozin 13 strate or even make it to the elite eight! i reckun ye dun know how it turnt out: 79-60, cardnulls.

ouch!

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

pitchers tuck by buddy don: refleckshuns of hoboken

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

pitchers tuck by buddy don: strollin n trollin in man hattan

i have bin meanin to anser a comment buck made a while back whenever i posted a pitcher of a wooden injun n menchunned how i wuz sprized to find such thangs on the streets of man hattan. as always, he asts a purty good questchun that leads ye to thank a bit moren ye mite otherwise:

Reminds me of that Seinfeld episode.

But you know, I have never known what it is that is offensive about wooden Indians. I have always thought they were kinda neat looking.

Why is a wooden Indian offensive but a ceramic Buddha is okay?

Just askin'

thats a grate thang to ast n i wood anser it thisaway based on knowin a passel of natives (sum of em are famus, witch ifn i ever git roun to finishin life n pinions of buddy don, hillbilly, i will menchun em by name) ...

whenever it cums to them statchews of buddha, theys made by buddhists as a means of honorin gautama buddha. they wudnt made by folks that aint buddhists lookin to make fun of em or add vertise products a'usin em, witch folks that aint buddhists duz other thangs with em. not only that, but most of them images of buddha are idealized n made to make im look purty good, idealizin sum of the aspects of his careactker.

taint the same with wooden injuns. fer lots of folks, theys the tipicull stereotype of natives, not real n not true to life (purt near ever native i know looks lack a black amurkin). this here articull eggsplains it purty good. as one native eggsplained it to me, he dont lack the way the statchews make it seem that they aint even real humans. havin sed all that, bucks point stands in that thays a minny of em thats beeyootifull.

now fer sum of my attempts to lasso the passin herds with my camras digital rope ...

grim faces on the passin herd ...


street vendor ...


hangin out on 8th avenue ...


(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

pomes of buddy don: So?

They called the "escalation" just a "surge,"
Since many can remember that grim word
From Viet Nam, where "escalation's" dirge
Was often all that we the people heard.

They would not let us see returning dead,
Since that might make us think the war had cost
Too much when what they needed was, instead,
A fairy tale where our wars can't be lost.

They would not budget for the cost of war
Since that might mean an honest, free debate
About whether we would spend anymore
On a war where we would not "escalate."

They didn't tell us much — how apropos! —
Since when they hear our viewpoints, they say, "So?"

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

pitchers tuck by buddy don: signs of sprang

used to be fall wuz my favert season, but lately it has mint the beginnin of migraine season, so now my favert is sprang. we tuck a walk round town tuther day n seen signs of sprang most everwhar, witch heres a cuple pitchers i tuck to proov it ...





(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

pitchers tuck by buddy don: nite n day

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

pomes of buddy don: Not Much

No Much

It’s five years on and what have we achieved?
For great and grand are our accomplishments!
The weapons that weren’t there were sure perceived
And that they weren’t was pure coincidence!

And though Osama and Saddam were foes,
With one religious, one a worldly man,
We’ve beaten one down to his own last throes —
The other? Well, we’ll catch him when we can.

What matters is we spread democracy —
A reason we discovered on the way
To help explain our own hypocrisy —
What matters are not deeds but what we say!

And how much did this grand adventure cost?
Not much compared to all that we have lost!

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

pinions of buddy don: grate cause

i gut thisn frum my good frien thinking meat. i caint putt it no bettern meat fer brains dun dun:

Award-winning author Pat Cadigan has started the “Match It for Pratchett” campaign, honoring Terry Pratchett. Pratchett, the author of the popular Discworld novels, recently announced that he has been diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s disease. He has donated £500,000 (roughly $1 million) to Alzheimer’s research, and the campaign to match his donation is underway.

Please visit the campaign’s Guide to Giving and donate today.

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

waka of budouadana: pages

Confidence

The child’s confidence,
Like a newly budding sprout
Planted in rich soil,
Gives courage to the timid,
And hope to the dejected.

Potion

A magic potion
In a cup borne by a youth:
Such is one’s first love,
An intoxicating brew
Of hope, fear, intimacy.

Knot

The child had no doubts
As he used his sharp dagger
To sever the knots
Of worldly difficulties,
Cutting each to useful lengths.

Risk

The trusting young child
Offers his only coin,
Risking everything
On the hope that life is fair,
Learning of good and evil.

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

waka of budouadana: tens

Struggle

His heavy burden,
A harvest of ten long poles,
More than he can heft
While seeing his way forward,
Wears him down with hard struggle.

Reunion

The happy parents
View the family reunion
Amid such bounty,
Places set for each of ten
As all return home in joy.

Victim

Playing the martyr?
Or could he be the victim?
Ten blades in his back,
To prove he’s been betrayed,
With knives as dear as jewels.

Investor

With ten golden coins
The market thrives, making rich
The charmed investor,
Who permits no change at all,
Fearing he would be undone.

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

waka of budouadana: nines

Crutches

Battered, bruised, unbowed,
The man leans against his crutch,
Surveying his yield:
Eight crutches from prior trials,
Hard proofs one must be wary.

Wishes

Nine cups of wishes,
Arrayed behind the winner
Like sweet dreams come true,
Accomplishments completed,
Provide passing contentment.

Trophies

The fears of the night,
Regrets for what might have been,
Shine like nine sharp swords,
Painful trophies she maintains
On her lonely bedroom wall.

Falcon

The noble lady
Strolls her garden of nine coins,
Falcon on her wrist,
Proof that though she is gracious,
She has the power to kill.

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

mizry of buddy don: a short reeport

me n miz bd seen the weather changer a'cummin on us, witch it hit on sundy as skeduled. i wuz on the fone to mama whenever i gut to whar i couldnt make the wurds i wuz trine to say cum out of my mouth or even git into it, witch thats sumthin name of aphasia that is a precursor i git ever now n agin.

i bin havin migraines since, each day a'gittin a lil wurser till yesterdy i couldnt hardly stop vomitin, witch miz bd gits me up in the bed n dont let me go vomit n that heps me git past havin the urge. she duz sum reiki on me to hep me drift off to sleep. it gut bad a nuff fer me to take imitrex yesterdy, witch i try not to take them thangs on a counta they seem to cause rebound migraines the verr nex day.

miz bd gut the newrallgist on the fone n he gut a scrip fer steroids on its way long with a nuther drug n sum oxygen to use nex time i am feelin the effecks.

i will cummence to takin em this mornin, n twont be a secunt too soon on a counta i wuz up half the nite trine not to vomit agin. miz bd tuck keer of me as per usual.

pee ess: tuz a awefull way fer miz bd to have to cummence her birthdy, witch tiz our anniversry as well.

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

waka of budouadana: eights

Strike

Eight arrows arcing
Across the sky, their targets
Already settled,
A coordinated strike
That allows no turning back.

Ends

Everything must end,
The happy circle of friends,
The team of workers,
Its final task completed,
Each of its eight cups drained dry.

Bound

Blindfolded and bound,
In a jail of eight sharp swords,
Feeling powerless,
The young woman first accepts
Then overcomes her troubles.

Flow

Six wheels completed,
The worker diligently
Hammers the seventh
The eighth awaiting its turn,
The flow of work exalting.

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

pitchers tuck by buddy don: thangs that make me feel sick

aint we past time when we gut wooden injuns in man hattan? i wood say it makes me sick ceptn everthang duz rite now on a counta i gut a migraine makin me wonta vomit, witch i know i orta try not to, but ...



(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

pitchers tuck by buddy don: wise man

tiz a day of pane fer me on a counta migraine weather than cum in yesterdy. leaves me wishin i could be as placid as this feller ... (my hed feels bout that big n bout to burst) ...



(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

waka of budouadana: sevens

Stand

One man versus six,
He makes his hilltop stand,
Bravely facing those
Who would supplant him by force,
His staff no better than theirs.

Options

Each of seven flasks
Holds a unique heady brew,
A different future
In each dreamy concoction:
Paralysis of options.

Outsider

The outsider leaves
The parade of daily life,
Briefly looking back,
Bearing seven silver swords
As if he could defeat death.

Blessings

The farmer pauses
For seven golden minutes
To smell sweet onions,
Lean upon his wooden hoe,
And count his many blessings.

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

pitchers tuck by buddy don: frum a toy store

this past weekend, we wuz lucky a nuff to git a visit frum my niece n her husbin, witch they wuz in town sos he could have a innervue over at f.i.t. fer a spot in thar progrum fer toy deevelopers. hes about to git his batchler of fine arts degree n wonts to wurk in that field, witch thay aint no better place to doot than f.i.t. as ye kin planely see, they gut art rite in frunt of the place:



so twuz that we had us a grate time a'goin to places lack fao schwarz n toyz r us.

one of the grate thangs bout them toy stores is how they let ye take pitchers inside of em, witch most places dont allow that.

lego our liberty!


this feller wuz a'moovin aroun lack he wonted to attack n eat ye, but i saw a lil gurl with her mama thar, who the mama sed to the lil gurl, 'watch out fer that dinosore!' n the lil gurl, mayhap she wuz five years ole, anserd, 'oh please, he aint real.'


(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

waka of budoudana: sixes

Winner

The winner parades,
Colorful standard raised high,
Leading his army
And six flag-bearing champions,
Knowing glory fades quickly.

Innocence

Children with their bowls,
None of them identical,
Play their made up games,
Six innocent hungry lambs
Sharing faith they will be fed.

Renewal

Two hooded figures
Their boat laden with six swords,
Cross a murky swamp
That mirrors their strained spirits,
Renewal on the far shore.

Blessings

Six coins, six figures,
Poor man, rich man, give and take –
No one is secure,
But each can give or receive
According to his blessings.

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

pitchers tuck by buddy don: ladies in man hattan

bad news on the phone?


almos lack a nuther amurkin gothick ...


eatin ice cream on a verr cold day ...


(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

waka of budouadana: tuther three fives

Regret

Three great beakers down,
Their brew spilled on thirsty earth,
Their owner suffers,
Feeling only sharp regret,
Blind to the two that remain.

Miser

Stopping at nothing
To get his way, the miser
Cuts off all his friends,
Desiring only profit,
Claiming five swords, needing one.

Beggars

With but five pennies,
Two beggars, one lame, both starved,
Wander through harsh snow,
Painfully aware of those
Feasting behind bright windows.

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

waka of budouadana: truth

Ascending the mountain,
One’s trail does not always go up
But must dip downwards
To meet the next, longer rise:
So, too, paths leading to truth.

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

waka of budouadana: Contention

Petty contention –
Five-man free-for-all with sticks
Jabbing and jousting –
No rules, winners, or losers,
Only blind competition.

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)