waka of budouadana: Tyrant

Tyrant

The tiny tyrant
Cannot speak a single word,
Yet is understood
By subjects who serve him
And provide his every need.

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pitchers tuck by buddy don: browsin in hells kitchen

i am hopin today is a better day than the last three, witch i bin havin sum of the wurst migraines ever, mayhap on a counta thankin i dint half to take no depakote durin the 'off-season' fer migraines. i dont git minny of em in summertime, but ifn one brakes thru, tiz a doozy.

a while back me n miz bd tuck a stroll thru the flea market in hells kitchen. tuck a bunch of pitchers, witch heres a few of em ...







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waka of budouadana: the usual

the usual

yeah, some vomiting,
the usual arc of pain
left side of my head
pinning me to the mattress
slow passage of dense dark time

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mizry of buddy don: rare summer migraine

cummenced yesterdy mornin whilst i wuz on the train. still a'goin on.

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waka of budouadana: Aging

Aging

As evening shadows
Lengthen while the setting sun
Kisses the western
Hills, so old memories stretch
As aging bodies weaken.

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waka of budouadana: Mother

Mother

The aging mother
Who nursed her newborn children,
Raised them to adults,
Now offers milk of wisdom
Based on precious memories.

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pitchers tuck by buddy don: takin the ferry

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pitchers tuck by buddy don: more hip shots

one of the thangs i wuz tole by a good fotogruffer artist wuz that ye should carry yer camra with ye wharever ye go. i try to do jes that, but taint always possibull. whut i lack most about it is how thays pitchers most everwhar ye look, speshly ifn ye lack people in publick places (also known as the publick domain).













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pitchers tuck by buddy don: pix frum underground

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pitchers tuck by buddy don: ny street shots

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waka of budouadana: Warning

Warning

Leaves turn upside down,
Anticipating the storm,
Dancing in high winds,
Warning all to find shelter
Before the summer rainfall.

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pitchers tuck by buddy don: pitchers tuck ack! fishes cawt with a camra

taint everday that sumbidy makes a comment on this site n ifn thats a rare thang, tiz even rarer to git a pome, witch thats whut fletch wuz kind a nuff to leave yesterdy:

Pictures tuck,
of ducks,
sucking goodness
from the muck.
We should all
have such luck.

i am feelin purty lucky my ownself to read such a fine lil pome! thankee, fletch. now wander on over to fletchs site to see sum grate pitchers. he has the eye of a artist n goes to the best places ...

speakin of them ducks he writ about, as ye could tell frum the pitchers of em i putt in here yesterdy, them animulls that lives in the bbg has been nearly tamed. whuts true bout them ducks is true bout them fish. heres a lil fotograffick proof ...

this yaller koi wuz coy bout gittin his pitcher tuck, but i wuz payshunt a nuff to wait im out ...


as ye mite know bout fish, thar lack babies: everthang git putt into thar mouth to see whuther tiz tasty a nuff to eat, witch this koi had to try eatin a leaf!


corse, he spit it out bout as quick as he gut a taste of it ...


wharever thays koi, ye kin bet ye thays sum turtles ...


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pitchers tuck by buddy don: ducks suckin goodness frum the muck

tuther day after ackupunkchur whenever i wuz a'waitin fer miz bd to join me in a short visit to the brooklyn botanic garden, i cum across sum ducks, all female, filterin sumthin they musta luved frum the muck of a small stream. them ducks in the garden is nigh on to tamed, so twuz easy to git sum pitchers to proov how much they lacked that stuff ...

heres the furst cuple of em, witch ye kin see thar usin thar beaks to sift sumthin frum the muck ...






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pitchers tuck by buddy don: hot day at the garden

looks lack this year has been tuff on them roses. mayhap twooda bin differnt ifn me n miz bd had gut by to see em in early june, when thar at thar peak, but by this saturdy, they was suffern. we aint shore why. coulda bin the heat, but we figger twuz more lackly the way it has rained up in here. no long steady rains to speak of, jes hard thunderstorms n downpours.

as innybidy that reads or looks at this blog much has gut to know, i luv takin pitchers of mos innythang. i luv gittin good pitchers of flowers at thar peak. but i also find a lot of beeyooty in thangs thats dyin or hedded thataway.

so heres sum roses in sevrull states of bein ...

as robbie burns splaind it:

O MY Luve 's like a red, red rose
That 's newly sprung in June:
O my Luve 's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune!

this here rose is rite near purpull ...


yaller roses is fer friendship ...


i luv clusters of pink roses ...


these here roses dont have that classick rose shape, but thar shore purty ...


corse, a lil wider angle shows how them roses has bin suffern ...


even when thar a'dyin, roses still have that sartin sumthin ...


i used to have a frien that writ a story bout roses of this color, witch twuz kindly a symbull of the ole south ...


sumtimes it pays to live in the shadders ...


... on a counta the sun kin be ruff ...




roses is verr fragull plants, witch thats why thar essentchul oils is so eggspensive to make ... n as ye kin see, they go out jes as sweetly as they cum in ...


a rose bows its hed ...


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