[ARTS]: Big and Little Poetry--free verse, any verse.
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I Have Joy Today
I have found joy today
Easy solomn, wistiful
Morning, I say, isn't
Reality never confidential.
Somewhere in four vows,
How do I have reality
Fixed against North Star,
Around which, without cold
Exasperations, I forget
Nothing, wander against,
Midnight sun, against Big
Bear, Looking for little
Bear, I sing at one o' clock,
In this morning of liberation.
Isn't this specific, to write
Poetry like playing
The piano, beautiful
Chords? Sing out
Of four foot box, isn't some
Reliance upon song more
Important? I come to handle!
I know I have found in strings
Of words, singing out
Of chords, Piano rings
Beyond belief, my song
These do not batter against
Wars, wars, wars, to inhabit
Another wrong, in memory
I cry for six million Jews
Put to death in chambers,
These were not showers,
But death disguised as hygene,
How could I cry, how could
I die without clothing
Against morning star,
Remembering our Buddha,
With brightest Loving Kindness,
We sing our song with backdrop
Of Wisdom. Oh, Buddha sing
To all of us, especily six
Million separations placing
Forth reality as Buddha song,
Life cannot be promised each
And every Jew, Gentile, Muslom,
Infidel of Knowledge, Sangha
Without wisdom, found beside
Water wells, with water song
Embittered, with stinging
Knowledge every Jew struck down
In freedom's liberation
Among camps of freedom
Let us finally sing Glory
Of piano, lost chord, beauty
Found in freedom let it ring
Out opposite chords,
Of desperration, battles won
Slight of hand. Magician's hat
Every soldier crying for each
Jew, eighteen million, ninteen
Million, World Ware one, Millions,
Twenty-eight million. Never again
Such sloughter of human kind
All of history cannot ring out
Glory, it is sorrow, it is
Some embittered, song,
Like bitter herbs at passover,
We do not find first born
From Angle of Death struck
Down, it is Freedom to leave
This battle, Death is not proud
Finally lost Chourd
Is found, naked in the sun
Let go from each battle
Of crossing, parted red sea.
We shall all know Buddha's
Freedom of Loving Kindnes
Wisdom of Overt peace
From each battle, red
Flowing body's blood, raw
Dried into crusted coat,
Above this door. not paint,
Blood of every soldier,
Until Palistine is liberated
From this horrror no,
No more battles, let
Freedom Ring
As Kamalla Harris comes
Along, another story
Shall sing another lullaby,
Pradises of pianos? Lost
Chord, ls found, each battle
Come to end, bodies, We
Wonder of dead. Yet, it's time
To sing. Sing summer Peace
Summer soldier. Poetry,
Prayer, Loving Kindness,
Most Important sermon
The Buddha ever gave.
Peace, let Freedom ring.
Peaceful poetry, as mine
It's Time to rest, rest and sing.
Gassho
Deepest Bows
sat/lend a hand.
I weep for my own poetry,
Let rissen be this story
Of all humanity. Calm Poetry.Last edited by Tai Shi; 08-22-2024, 04:28 PM.Peaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆1Comment
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I realized It's 10 years
My Dharma Name
It is actually 10 years
Not eight years, 10
On October 17th, 8
On January 10, 2016,
My first Jukai, These
Are Celibrations, when
10 chimes, years I will
Be clearly studying Jukai,
I would have been
Lost in my anger, greed,
Now never dulled, my gift
Of Rakusu.
Heartfelt comitment,
This reality of all gifts, for
It was in early December,
My package arrrived
From somewhere, in USA!
My Rakusu was gifted me,
However, my join date
is October 17th, which
resulted in the longest
Undertaking in my entire life,
Except grad school and marriage,
One eleven years, the otther 42.
Now Ubsoku, I am a Calm
Poet, remembering my
Dharma which I was Given
To help me along this given
Path, this peaceful path,
Finally resulting in a given path,
Thank you, Jundo! You
Hit the mark. Zen, and
Artistic Art of Archery!
This is most important for
Our child we raised. She
Has become brilliant scholar
Translator, and poet, so like
My father, I gaver direction,
While Marjorie gave her
These brilliance of words
Song, and Praise. She
Is our ofspring as from
The brow of Athena!
Do you know we passed
To her these hearts folded
Into one, for on March 27th
She will be thirty six,
Summer befire, gave her
My Sober life pulmanologist
Says greatest gift I ever
Gave to her, mother gave
To both of us her loyaty
And her heart.
Gassho
sat/ lend a handLast edited by Tai Shi; 08-22-2024, 05:48 PM.Peaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆1Comment
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If I Have said,
I know I Have
That it would not
Ban Ango without me,
Let me up to do to sit
I will be at both Ango,
Jukai both such
That I can make
Anew, my new Rakusu
If you will allow
Me to see my way
Though what I will not
Check into Facebook
I will more than review
Lotus Sutra, more
Than review Budhist
History, sit each
Morning, sit every Friday
Nightly with all of you,
Sit with nights, my friend
Kyousui who saved me,
Knowingly Kinhin
How to spell every
Word, you may
See anyway, what
We can make this book
Alive and wide, my
Book with Ango study
As during everything
Monsoon wantingly, not
More ZaZenkai, more
Friendship please, more
Let me see fellowship
With you not another
Without this Lonely Ango, sit
Study ours is sadly to be
Twin; without another person?
Alternatly wanting more
Through Ango,
Without you!
Just for me.
We are friends,
Brotherly.
Love, Twin
Let us be.
Gassho
lah/satLast edited by Tai Shi; 09-02-2024, 03:19 PM.Peaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆2Comment
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Find Jukai
Let me say I will not be
Dead For Ango,
Jukai Books we have
What we will participate
In Reading for Jukai
Be specificlly
In preparation for
Prosperity, comittment
Once again to every
Cerimony, every notion,
Sit in no movement
With Kinhin if you find,
Let me into Nigtly
Friday solenity,
My cerimony; so
I Thank you, thank thee
Oh, teacher Jundo
Let me understand
What it is to be,
To See, to Be,
Understandingly, Reverrntly
Free to witness or to see
What it is more to me.
Nothing to want our renounce
Bigihtly to dream,
Our Shame, what it is
To becames us, what ours
Made real life, in loyalty
Precepts, Never kill,
Never lie. Never sigh,
Never in sexulity to defame
We can not know in essence
All that is true, all that is you
We do is new this is happy
What to do is silenced
Always essence friendly
Of Life, in reality.
Our life always to know so to be.
Of lastingly what it is
To Be, knowingly
Brotherhood ever to see
Thot what it is today, to be friends
Nothing more, just what is
What can be, we know of eachother.
Calm Poetry. What he cannot
Understand knowingly.
Gassho
lah/ sat
Tai ShiLast edited by Tai Shi; 09-02-2024, 03:46 PM.Peaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆Comment
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Guest
Let me say I will not be late
Put me Fot Ango,
Jukai. Book you have
That I will participate
In Ango and Jukai
And be specificaly
In prepation for
Prosperity and comittment
Once again to every
Cerimony, and sit
With Kinkin if you
Let me into Nithtly
Fryday evry nightly
Cerimony; then so like
Jukai, Thank you
Oh, my teacher Jundo
Gassho
sat/ lend a hand
You are very a talented poet and have such a treasury of poetry here. Thank you for commenting on my artwork and letting me know of this thread. I get overwhelmed at times with the amount of content here at Treeleaf, it's helpful to have suggestions on what to see.
Gassho,
Paco
Comment
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Guest
both
before
after
one is all
there comes a moment
the moment
sun breaks
the ocean of our blue bodies
fingers of desert & dawn
bones of all that
which came
buried
before in our
brows
shoulder of crow
beak of hawk
eagle claw
we become the dying
of the
blistered sun
decay
of the atom
within our abdomen
crouched
howling
the tides
surrendering to the
moon
monthly obsequence
we bow politely
to the stars
our eyes uncovered for a brief moment
Gassho
Paco
edit 8/29: sat/lah (I now understand what these mean )Last edited by Guest; 08-29-2024, 11:53 PM.2Comment
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Priest-in-Training, I Host
My Rags Gifts of Priests, Clergy
I had wanted to be clergy
As boy after church camp
I had wanted to teach, preach
Blood of Jesus, equated
With my parents, whose
Cross, hammered nails into hands
Spear into side, beast friend betryal
Not once but three times, now
I am an old man, in less than
Two weeks I will be seventy-three
Seventy three years, then
In High School I wantted to be
Space MAN, withstand radiation
For years, discover alian races,
They would be Parented who never
Broke my heart, never beat me,
Never contridicted my words,
With their lies, so Joind Boys
Club, there I taught photograpy
To this group of little Black Kids, one name
Believe me was Harry Baily, then I was white
Where are Black, who As old man met lifer in U.S.
Army, his name, Bill Baily, now. gone honestly
He's dead, quiet, after he retired, sat in corner
He joined groups where we swore on Big Book
Off drinking any alcohol, I had
Become a poet, when I asked
Methodist cleargy if I might
Become Lay Minister, keep my
Buddhahood, keep my Loving
Kindness, I believed Dali, greatest
Lama, that Kindness was
My religion, Buddha said
"Most important is Loving
Kindness" what difference
Was love one another, love, each,
thy neighbor" as in humanity
Said, love, not machine guns, bombs
Was most importantt, not as
In sex, but in those friends, those students
Family we could understand Poetry
Deep down inside, spirit, givinfg
Everything even my life, death not Poetry
There is one who never betrayed, me,
Me, my locving wife, her name
My answer, in university all I was to be
Was Like Keates, Truth is Beauty
Beauty is truth, truth, unlike, psychology
My Parents, my father held his belt
High, father I searched out after He
Abandoned me, after ten years
Nothing years, I didn't know where
He lived, so I called up my aunt
Karen who gave me his number,
So I called, after Europe he was at home
Never gave me a nickle Wanted me be,
Germany. I never learned past first year,
Quit Sanoma State University they wanted
Me to study.This was Grattis, then ten years
Later I found one who loved
Me unconditionally, who gave me her MFA
Sold to her as I was an old man founf her,
Sixty-nine, now she's sixty-nine-years-old
I received my gifts, she made me become
Poetry. Me poet at forty, at brink, quit drink
Thirty-eight she bore our child
Almost died for that birth, LOVE eterna
For both of us,I began to thank her all my life,
I had quit drinking, she taught gratitude
Me, I was to be honest, how to give
How to take my meager money,
Spend less, always give to her
With our woman child, we often
Ask each other, "Who are we? How
Dit it happen? How did we raise her, our child
To be everlasting honesty? Be Professor
From birth how did we teach honestly
Loveing," She became Dr. of Philosophy,
Laurel Ann, I wassn't always
Easy! What I wanted, I never quit
MFA Writing, even Poettry, here give
Oh, poetry, out PhD for daughter, Professor
Of Japanese Oh our Pearl of Greatest
Marjorie, I still love you after
Forty-four years, as we renewed
Our Love ever after, our eternity.
Women asked to be honest
Magnitudes of hosting nothing
Trees Red rust, Yellow, did
My mother beat me for nothing,
Already upon trees, I live in Tree
Leaf, In Treelef which doesn't
Exist except in these three, four
Computers, more in my heart, my
Mind, this more is on October 17th--ten
Yearrs doing Soto Zen still
I couldn't be cleargy when I wasn't
I asked Marjorie said "NO!"
Thought as my body had become
Weak, frail, computer skills gone,
We could only live for each other,
Daughter stays in touch almost
Every day, Profeessor fluent in Jaapanese,
Daughter studied Japanese Literature
When she was Eighteen, she gave
All to honesty, was proud of Dad
How could she be so, love, I was Professor
Eternally, only instructorshe may never marry,
Two did not betray me, loved me, love me.
With women asked
So he says, she says,
Women asked thy heart to host
Ring the bell thrice, or just for
Honesty once, sat thirty minutes
Once, ring Bell what is it to learn?
Who asked them, spit on duties vine in two
Said thy love is my honesty, no wine
My honesty, my forgiveness can I be
Honesty, Marjorie said, "Perhaps,
You were really not cut out to be clergy,
My only stint as close to clergy
Ubasoku, giving, support with
Daughter, feriends, family,
"Love one another, being, I am frail,
Buddha is most like Christ, reality,,"
I have found loving-kindness,
Nature, said, Keats, said, "Poetry
Must be as natural as leaves
On the Trees," so I dwell in places
That ever not--were that only exist
Imaginary in space like Poety, like honesty.
Gaassho
lah/sat
Gave to Tai ShiLast edited by Tai Shi; 08-30-2024, 03:22 PM.Peaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆1Comment
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Moments of Song
Thid mornining brings glorious
Wonder, why do we praise moments?
Why so more sintilating movmement
Buddha insight? Wonder again?
Wonderment devine, morsals,
Of Delight, divisions of reverent
Divded day insulent rerervenit,
Wonderment, moments into silence
These are days without ties,
To miraculous delitment, of days
Of days of morning light
Without more solitude of song.
Tai Shi
Gassho
lah/satPeaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆Comment
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Fall Hermit
I done a hard thing
Served a mountain of Pizza
Died to the summer
Floating no goal
Fall preparation has begun
My Hermitage
A yurt, a forest
Precepts and a rakusu
Dreams of empty space
_/\_
sat/ah
matt1Comment
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Three Teachers, (Four Poems)
Ultimate Questions
One writes big
One writes small, Big
and Little poetry haven't
We said bitrh can mingle like love
Of flowers, love of zenith, one
Love of Planet, Galaxy, Earth
It's Earthtide, Moon,
Male Tide, Female
Tide. Chinese
Space race,
Russian Space
Races
Daughter it's
Wonderful. its
My gift to my
Femenity, all senerity
Unsucessful marriges,
Successful narrative
No marrige, questions
Of femenity this freedom
Daughter It's given
Rough hewen,
Trees
Lesson plans, sigh
You have plans right
The idea is to get
Students, boys,
Girls to grow up
Speak Japanese.
My job was to seek
Expression, like
James Moffet taught
Expression of Language
Three Rings
First writing of work
He called it transactional,
Then come language
Of self, self personal
With always audience
Of one, audience
Then came language of art
Everything to create?
All Three Come
To Teaching
Truth comes, art, poetry
Beautiful language
Itself personal,
Transactional
Again language of all
Creation, showing
Beautiful unity, focus
Building blocks, outline,
This is creation most
Beautiful of all, narrative
Everything is story,
Grammar,
Direction,
Poetry is everything
Even weather girls,
I gave to daughter
Gavelanguage
Broken
Whole sentances
Back to me
My birthday ice-
Cream cake, building
Out of chaos, Electricity
In Rock music, electronically
Formulated
Certainty was mine
Claim of twin towers,
I had it first written poetry
Four o'clock mother
AM, mother Gave birth,
Silently, father alone
One even September
Elventh ninteen, fifty-
One, ultimately all
Of us are one, we
Cannot pull father
Out of womb!
Left for doctors,
Nurses, Asked
"Toch her. She's yours!"
Instill this gift
Always life
As direction
Father was working
To create even
If it's poetry nothing
No pay for poetry
You united all three
Little one that's is genius,
In your PhD, transactional
Personal, written art
Out of translations
Creation of Poetry.
That was my gift,
Tansactional, Personal,
United in Art,
Taught at universities,
You gave me, creation
Of Poetry, father's job
Completed as you
Became your own, teacher
Of your own creation
Lessons Planned, Outlined,
Orginized all work father,
Trasactional, my father
World of oil fields
Your world ultimately
Found language
One creation united
Translations Creation
Of beauty, translations
Of art, writing your own poetry.
You are ultimately
Poetry of heart
Showing humanity
Language of birth,
I gave you your own birth
From my shoulders
Never bootstraps.
My father gave me
Ultimately language
Of work his completely
Transactional
I rejected worl of oil
Rigs, Math, Machines,
Electronics.
Father's own boots
Climbing Towers
Pounding into Earth.
Transations, Abstract
Personal Art
Wait, he was ultmately
Teacher of trnsactions,
His was creation of Earth
I was a teacher of expression
Essays of worth, solid
Classifications, arguments
Poetry of Salt, Herritage
Of personal, art
Out,of all three
Out of dust, out'
Of concrete mixed with rock
Sand, water traweled
Into fences, into driveways
Into transations of Falls
Into chairs, onto wood floors,
Into seventy-three-years-old
Falling, stumbaling, cutting
Arms, hands, I age like
Father who must die
Of cardiac arrest, heart
Quits pumping, fails
From pulminary arrest
Lungs quit pumping
Daughter shoulder
Your load. You teach
At thirty-five, yours is legacy
Of Professorship
Working tword longevity.
All of us, daughter,
My poetry of raw material,
Pictures, my father
We became teachers
Language you of transactions
Combined in all three,
Poetry, personal
Transational
In kindness to Japanese
Who were not
Bombs of of Peral
Harbor, Pacific Campaign
Okinawa
To avoid slaughter of humanity
Two-hunfred fifty thousand
Lives taken with
Two bombs
We are no Heroshima,
Nagasaki, this is
Your time, Father great
Depression For me twin towers
Legacy from Lutenat Cowley
Milai, entire village
Slaughtered, Vietnam
Thich Naht Hanah
Dughter, Desert Storm
Jewish ultimate question,
Ultimate question Her Nebula
Inherited all of us
Within her PhD.
This was the dream
Of my father, and me,
You completed direction
You made your own PhD
You finally you worked,
Ours was creation,
You mayNever marry,
I see It clearly
Three Teachers
Questions of Peace
I gave you my shoulders
To climb out of this mess
My father gave me
His bootstaps to climb
Out of this mess,
So I became teacher
Of Poetry, personal
You are all three
Transactional, personal
Art as I watched you
Take the Apgar,
I touched her,
Nurses, doctors
Gave you hard,
Hard hard birth,
You were thirty days
Old we saw it
AVM on bottom
Of your left foot,
No ammount of surgery
Could give you
What I had, brain surgery
Entirely throught
Mine was successfully
Hought for life,
Your decision
You nearly died
From AVM,
Ours is a differny solution
You will never marry
Or bear children yet
You bear all children
If great depression
Atom bombs
World war three as Eart
Explode its Envirement
With our dream
In your PhD, gratitude
In a way you
Not only climbed
From my shoulders,
You climbed from my
Fathers Bootstraps,
You are creator, you
Artist ultimately
Will your generation
Save Enviornment,
Your Japanese
Language of ten thousand
Paper cranes, oh boats
Of children, of Peace,
You are a Professor
Of Japanese, you
Are saving little
Ones as university
Prfessor of Japanese,
This is your
Ultimate sucess,
To live inspite of dozens
Of surgeries,
Like our own tumors,
You live beyond,
You have found peace
Tranquality, all
That grandpa Atom Bomb,
My generation Vietnam
Your generation, Do we
Destroy Earth, for Short sighted
Luxery, oil, gas, plastiv
Beer bottles,, filth, dropped
To Bottom of Mariannes Trench
Demanding Peace,
This is our legaccy, did
All three find our own
Peace? Will humanity
Destroy Earth
Not heading creations
Of artestry, Poetry
Personal, Transactions,
Warnings of teachers,
Is this question of Peace?
Gassho
lah/sat
Tai Shi
Calm PoetryLast edited by Tai Shi; 09-05-2024, 02:49 PM.Peaceful, Tai Shi. Ubasoku; calm, supportive, for positive poetry 優婆塞 台 婆Comment
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Oh my child, can it be?
It is now time for me to say
I must let you learn the hard way?
17 years of feeling
Your pain, Our pain
Fix your own damn drive train.
Wait till graduation
Delayed gratification
Is what builds a nation
24 years for a Rakusu
24 weeks for a car
Didn't think we'd get this far
The time has come
If you want it, work for it
Or simply stop wanting shit
Is the best lesson I could teach
The only lesson you will get
No, you are not an adult yet
My parents never taught me this
"I'll be a better one" is the danger
By not giving into our anger
This poem is probably a little more "literal" than yours Taishi. I still have a lot of concepts about what makes a poem. I'm sure you can teach me a thing or two. I'm happy to be your Ango partner and I'm happy to use poetry to communicate.
_/\_
sat/ah
mattLast edited by Matt Johnson; 09-05-2024, 03:29 PM.Comment
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戒 (Kai)
Not Shimano’s or Sasaki’s women,
Who fell beneath their whispered sin,
Not Anderson’s fatal spree,
Not Maezumi’s hidden glee.
Not Baker’s downfall, pride astray,
Not Ikkyu’s crossing every line,
Not Dalai Lama’s strange embrace,
Of Asahara’s deadly grace.
Not Jean Vanier’s women’s trial,
Nor Trungpa’s coked-up reckless style,
Not Seung Sahn’s heart of lies,
Not Chögyal’s wild fantasy skies.
Not Merzel’s twisted Zen charade,
Not Taisen’s lineage mislaid,
Not Swami Rama’s secret play,
Nor Osho’s poisoned desert sway.
Not Sogyal’s cult-like grip of pain,
Not Amrit Desai’s lustful reign,
Not Gandhi's troubling Manu test,
Nor Muktananda’s darkened quest.
These saints who stumbled from on high— It seems the brightest lights have shadows. Why?
If all roads lead to such a fall,
Why seek to lead, when truth veils all?
Perhaps it's best to live and be,
A simple heart, untamed, yet free.
_/\_
sat/ah
matt
Comment
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戒 (Kai)
Not Shimano’s or Sasaki’s women,
Who fell beneath their whispered sin,
Not Anderson’s fatal spree,
Not Maezumi’s hidden glee.
Not Baker’s downfall, pride astray,
Not Ikkyu’s crossing every line,
Not Dalai Lama’s strange embrace,
Of Asahara’s deadly grace.
Not Jean Vanier’s women’s trial,
Nor Trungpa’s coked-up reckless style,
Not Seung Sahn’s heart of lies,
Not Chögyal’s wild fantasy skies.
Not Merzel’s twisted Zen charade,
Not Taisen’s lineage mislaid,
Not Swami Rama’s secret play,
Nor Osho’s poisoned desert sway.
Not Sogyal’s cult-like grip of pain,
Not Amrit Desai’s lustful reign,
Not Gandhi's troubling Manu test,
Nor Muktananda’s darkened quest.
These saints who stumbled from on high— It seems the brightest lights have shadows. Why?
If all roads lead to such a fall,
Why seek to lead, when truth veils all?
Perhaps it's best to live and be,
A simple heart, untamed, yet free.
_/\_
sat/ah
matt
(I also read it twice, just checking that my name is not in there. Hopefully, there will be no future verse about me ever! I also remind folks constantly about the HUNDREDS of Zen and other Buddhist teachers who help people, not hurt them, make no bad waves, cause no scandal ... so get no headlines, and no poem. The bad apples get the attention ... as they should ... but the beautiful orchard sometimes get ignored. )
Gassho, J
stlahALL OF LIFE IS OUR TEMPLEComment
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I thank you for this. Powerful poem.
(I also read it twice, just checking that my name is not in there. Hopefully, there will be no future verse about me ever! I also remind folks constantly about the HUNDREDS of Zen and other Buddhist teachers who help people, not hurt them, make no bad waves, cause no scandal ... so get no headlines, and no poem. The bad apples get the attention ... as they should ... but the beautiful orchard sometimes get ignored. )
Gassho, J
stlah
_/\_
sat/ah
matt
Comment
Comment