the blinding whiteness
makes me turn my face away
we wait on the beach

---

salty lips
sand between toes
sun on my back

---

a warm summer breeze
libations and vibrations
oh, take me away

---

Bondi Bondage a
Desire for high entropy
The rest free for me

---

the bodysurfer
waiting for the perfect wave
then three strokes and go

years of hardship
dissolved into this moment
the ground falls away

---

many years of toil
now it is your turn to fly
don't forget to breathe

---

Perfect poise in space
Five make a baby’s mobile
Art instilled from birth

---

this body developed
toned, shaped, stretched, enlivened
by an exceptional mind

---

hey you beautiful
your body as a token of you
do a dance on me

Yanaka Bochi
A swirl of falling petals
On ancient gravestones

---

Dormant life passes
Through the eye of the universe
Then shows its pleasure.

---

seasons circle again
last years sun becomes flower
new life in dead branch

---

the earth blooms with joy
a warm gentle breeze to pass
filled with aroma

---

It is what it is.
They tell me it's Life renewed;
Is that what it is?

a shell of a man
but wasn't it always thus?
now that too is gone

a Spring afternoon
alarms split the air and then
all is swept away

---

Time for renewal
Waters cleanse, ashes arise
With death comes new life

---

namazu rising
underworlds and underlords
next up, cthulhu

---

The Shinto Spirit
Turned his coat collar up, final look
Then wandered away

---

his face a struggle
haunted by thirty five ghosts
"To be alive is hell"

vices and virtues
rewarded or else punished
by fall of the dice

---

does anyone else
prefer to go down the snakes
than up the ladders?

---

sadly have played this
far more times than i have
indulged in wild sex

---

Endless summer hols
Long days swimming in the stream
Nights of snakes and ladders

---

Hot night with the kid,
Beer for me and juice for him,
board games and apples

as a child
it would have been thought
these were gods hands

---

a minor gesture while
floating with them divine
above sweaty tourists

---

so close, within reach
eons pass, great works crumble
distant as ever

---

searching for a God
One to touch, not contemplate
thus put on ceiling

---

The cracking plaster
reveals the nature of god
more than the painting