Week 39-22 - Haibuno

26 September 2022

Monarchs arriving
pair dancing in sunflowers
queens of the Cosmos

The march of fall is riotous colors moving as quickly as possible. "Just passing through" is the daily mantra as everyone flees south, except some fleeing North for their lives, a little too late. You can't outrun the storm surge of a thousand storms brewing simultaneously.

27 September 2022

Made butter cookies
download to upload to naught
paper towel tales

Feeling like I'm falling behind with fall, 1 day, 2 days, 3 days... But it feels good to sit in the sunshine after the dreary rains descend. Monsoon season has lingered bringing a life in clouds. It was fun for the first few days, but then the winter gloomies begin. Even with the fireplace crackling all day the winter winds seep deep and shiver.

28 September 2022

I expect nothing
mysteries of tradition
will remain unknown

What will come will come, and I will take care of this tiny piece of land which is my family.

29 September 2022

Waxing philosophy
so, our successful life is?
adjustments to self

Revelations of self unhinged by conversations and observations of others. The new age sycophants swarming with predatory obsession demanding attention. We each give the other side eye. That's just fine. 2 hours a day to keep the anxiety away. Firing the neurons with a rumbled stumble of words. The surprise twists and turns ignite the pleasure beacons. And that's just swell.

30 September 2022

Bivalent booster
clowns deliver mysteries
afternoon napping

Under a full moon with dew on the hood of my jacket listening to desert blues in the desert. They grab each others hands and slowly circle round. The ghost of Columbus has intent to mischief. The oblivious in action brings bile to our lips. The old ones slowly corral themselves in an even slower groove. One couple dancing charms the senses. Noses on fire from too much weed, tobacco smoke, and beer fumes. A calabash keeping the heartbeat of a universe of disparate things.

1 October 2022

Searching for pumpkins
viewing beautiful artworks
one last B.L.T.

Creeping vibes obfuscate sinew beneath the senses. You enter the grove and the swaying trees waver an unnatural hush. Can't keep time with the silence and its lack of quantum vassal. We've been skipping over stones, crossing streams, and knocking down every unnecessary cairn with a satisfying whoop and splash. No languid reminders are needed that man has stepped here, we've already done enough.

2 October 2022

Still on pumpkin hunt
rainy clouds have descended
first Fall fireplace light

Every day patterns produce something unnerving and immaterial. The shadow of past interference and aggressions lies over the land like a misty caul. Certain light settling illuminates its edges. Mourn the move on as much as the morning. Tomorrow may never come for some.

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Jamie Larson