In the
of my

I receive



a different
place in

I rest.

(c) copyright heather burns

Author's Notes/Comments: 

From time to time we all must take a break from this life, and it's pressures.

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D o j o

Satanic Serenades

Sunset upon a Shinto shrine

Red sun descends into the brine

Black Dragon stirs from endless time

Painted words, reverberations

A warriors shadow cast across a history sublime

The dojo still, susurrous echoes

Trickling stream upon a mountainside

The mountain on the rock

Bamboo chutes encircle, carry running life

The essence of Chi, surrounding, reflecting

Ascending gradation, prismic evolution

A candle flame flickers in the darkness of mind

Or the apple of the eye

Breath upon the black flame within, feeding passions desire

A steady beat, a rolling choir

Eye of The Beast, according to each

Opens to the eye within

Preparation, Meditation,

Awakening, release!

The dojo wakes, force unleashed

Gather strength and seat of wisdom

Array of warfare presentation

The scents and sounds of combat time

Ignites the  flesh and mind

Art of martial knowledge flow

Discipline, skill, & serpent strike!

Sensei speaks, Shidoshi teach

Code of Honor, integrity of might is right

Psychological, biological, mastery of will

Complimentary integration of the arts & styles

The Ninja holds the secrets to the wile and guile



神社に日没赤い太陽は塩水に降りる黒いドラゴンは無限の時間からかき混ぜる塗られた単語、残響崇高な歴史を渡る戦士の影の鋳造物 まだdojo、susurrousエコー山腹にしたたる流れ石の山タケシュートは連続した生命を囲んだり、運ぶキー、反映する包囲の本質上向きのグラデーション、prismic進化 蝋燭炎は心の暗闇で明滅するまたは目のりんご中黒い炎に呼吸は、情熱に与えてAを安定した音、圧延の聖歌隊望むそれぞれに従う獣の目、目に中開く準備、黙想、の解放覚醒! dojoは、自由にされる力目覚める知恵のギャザーの強さそして座席戦いの提示の配列戦闘の時間のにおいそして音肉および心を発火させる軍知識の流れの芸術訓練、技術、& 蛇の殴打! Senseiは、Shidoshi教える話す、力は正義の完全性社交儀礼、生物的心理、意志の支配芸術の&の無料の統合; 様式 Ninjaは策略および策略に秘密を保持する

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Dedicated to Sensei Ken Nagayama (Tae Kwon Do), Sensei Bill Ryusaki (Kenpo, Judo, Aikido, Jiu Jitsu, Kendo), & Shidoshi Frank Dux (Ninjutsu).

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The Wisdom of Alan Twatts

The bullshit that can be named

Is not the eternal bullshit,

Pathless is the path,

Thoughtless is the thought,

Vague and profound

Is its practitioner.

A journey of a thousand thoughts

Begins with one shot of whiskey --

Formless is the mother

Of all the tiny fuckers under

Your feet.

Look at it -- it is invisible,

Touch it -- it is intangible,

Smell it -- it is odorless,

Taste it -- it is tasteless,

Feel it -- it is one big pain

In your ass.

Thought without miracle,

Confused like the clearest mud,

Just think -- it is I that thinks

Or is not I at all?

Shine without luster,

Talk perpetual gibberish,

Do without doing,

Burp like a little child.

Hear one hand clapping,

Choke on the misty bone,

Laugh the laughter

Of emptiness.

It goes by a thousand names,

Some have called it

Bullshit, some have called it

Nothing at all --

It smiles like a fat Buddha,

If you see it on the road,

Kill it.

September 4, 2009

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A Rock by the Sea


(Conclusion to Rock, My Fortress and Islands of Stream)

Along the beach, I strolled alone,

Unmindful of the patient pelicans;

They silently stood beside the angler,

Waiting for his catch to take the bait.

My feet were itching to comb the sand,

Rather I skipped the islands in between,

There I left my final prints upon the sand,

And let the waves erased every trace therein.

Along the beach, I strolled alone,

Unmindful of the chattering seagulls;

They came in flock, ready for the plunder,

Hungry for the spoils, they eyed me in distrust.

My feet weakly succumbed to the loose grains of sand;

I slumped to its mound as I lost my grip, when

A tall blue-eyed stranger took me, in the shelter of his arms.

He sweetly had rapt me in his gentle scent.

The stranger was poised, calm, and collected.

Such endearing charm, comely and pleasant;

His crystal eyes talked with warm compassion,

So true for a rock that I found by the sea.

Copyright@2008, LCDancel, All Rights Reserved

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Author's Note: Revised version from the Original Manuscript of the same Title, Jan 20, 2008.

View greenmeadow's Full Portfolio


Meditative, Etc.

As I exhaled a deep-rooted breath,

there was a silence

eager to be heard.

A shushing sound escaped from

barely parted lips, and in that moment

there was a stillness that my soul

had so long been without

--the type that fills an injured spot in

every human spirit--

I could not allow it to leave

without embracing its calming essence

before we said goodbye.

Fran Hinkle

revised 01/23/08

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What an act of liberation

To laugh at my life's repetition

Of the same old explanation

Of why my


Was visible to all the world

Not me

As I become aware

Of the gift of


I finally and clearly see

The sad loss of spontaneity

occasioned by structured rigidity

Of self

Brought on by belief in


We are such loving clown's of nature

Simple and joyous when unguarded

Why waste a life constructing costumes

we think, when worn will show our power

To all we sense are not our equal

When all this acting jails our loving

Of those who already know our folly

Such silly disregard of who we truly are

Sadly keeps us from our simple selves!

Time is not forgiving

Nor is it a constant

Hurtful history is fast to fade

When having finally found

The key to life well spent is

honest loving of myself

Celebrating the joke I am

And in peace believe in


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"Mojo Box"


The colors

Of the rainbow

Yellows, reds and greens

Autumn leaves

Paddling down


Rushing streams

Across smooth stones

Mingling together

Clouds entertain us

All the while the key

To my Mojo Box

Laid in the

Palm of your


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Rock, My Fortress


On top of this big broad rock;

I found a seat to sit upon,

Looking over the deep ocean,

With unceasing waves dancing;

Relentlessly beat the shore.

The waves roar in symphonic sound

At every note of the wind’s song;

They spray in motion over the rocks,

Pacing fast, medium and slow,

Each tempo harmoniously flows.

This rock is my throne and my shelter,

Away from the world where I falter;

My fortress from a day-to-day distress,

Here I found solace and peace:

My weary spirit finds a resting place.

On this big rock I ponder,

What lies ahead and yonder?

Meditating and contemplating

Of life in travails permeating;

I let them go through the wind.

@greenmeadow, 3rd October 2007

FOT, The Entrance, NSW Australia

Author's Notes/Comments: 

~in my hour of meditation~

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i divine love of a realised master

i may go far.....

farthar than the star.....

i will be thine always.....

my lord, i will be thine always.....

devotees may come.....

devotees may go.....

my lord, i will be thine always.....

like a migratory bird.....

i will... always retun to my heavenly abode...

that has will been your feet always...

my lord, i will be thine always.....

you are my heart.....body and soul..

intoxicating light shining through me always.....

my lord, i will be thine always.....

i am your, you are mine...

i am you, you are me...

we will be one always.....

my lord, i will be thine always.....

blessed was i, to have thee...

as my lover always...

my lord, i will bw thine always.....

you are the wine..., older tham time.....

intoxicating me, immersed in thee...always.....

my lord, i will be thine always.....

when i die....

look into my eyes.....

they will mutely say "i will be thine always".....

my lord, i will be thine always......

i am in burning pain.....

longing for thy love's rain.....

which soothes thy devotees.... always .....

my lord i will be thine always......

my looooorrrrdddd

my looorrrddddd

i will be thine always......

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i was reading a poem by paramhamsa yogananda when i entered deep meditaion in which was born this lyrics which contains all the lines of the original poem garnished with tears which flooded my soul when that meditation broke.

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