Ten Things To Do Before Midnight

I posted this at "To Do List" which I love and after thinking about it decided to dedicate it to Lotusgreen who so often inspires my poetic meditations.


Ten Things To Do Before Midnight

1) Polish the crystal ball.
2) Leave a note for planchette.
3) Open the moon umbrella and be patient for there are 12 more minutes to wait.
4) Close eyes and try to remember my midnight birth of long ago.
5) Finish reading Midnight's Children by Salman Rusdie.
6) Eat the last bite of Chunky Monkey Ice Cream and recycle the container.
7) Ask the tarot if miracles are still possible.
8) Snap in the DVD of Children of Paradise.
9) Slip into the slinky midnight blue........
10) Listen to the sound of the wind ruffling through tall green Ponderosa pines and remember when listening was enough.

At the stroke of midnight put down the calligraphy pen and curl into bed, smudgy fingers and all, for the dream awaits.

Kiku, Kiku

I saw this white chrysanthemum from the New York Botanical Garden posted on flickR.



When it's all too much this ephemeral creature speaks to me, said Princess Haiku, of ancient legends, poetic beauty.... meditation...

Wrapping the chrysanthemum cloak around her like a shimmering moonlight of possibility, Princess Haiku vanished.

Doesn't she always?

fruit of the underworld, said Princess Haiku...

The fruit of the pomegranate, said princess Haiku is for those who wish to explore the riches of the unconsciousness and the underworld.

Will you have a taste?


“Myth is the primordial language natural to psychic processes, and
no intellectual formulation comes anywhere near the richness and expressiveness of mythical imagery.”

Carl Jung

following Lotus, into oblivion

It is the time of the year when we follow night to the edge. Nothing lies before us but solstice darkness and plaintive chords of oblivion. It was Lotusgreen, who told Princess Haiku, to search for Astor Piazzolla.

She found him by Moon light?

syrinx and I were tangled in water weeds

Tale of Pan and Syrinx:

Pan was hunting near Nonacris when he saw a a beautiful nymph, called, Syrinx. Syrinx had pledged vows of chastity and fled his unwanted advances. After reaching the Ladon River, Syrinx realized that she would not be able to cross the river without help. She prayed desperately to the water spirits for help in her escape. The nymphs heard her pleas, and in a flash, Syrinx's body was transformed and hidden among the plants growing by the flowing water. Pan arrived at the river's edge only to find marsh reeds murmuring in the wind. Knowing that these reeds had been the lovely Syrinx, grief-stricken Pan plucked a handful, cut them into various lengths and fastened them together with wax. Bringing the reed instrument to his lips, he played a plaintive song on his new pipe, which he named syrinx in honor of his escaped beloved.

Whom or what have you escaped? Name your river.

starfish, starfish tell me a tale

Or will you?