My Interpretation of Poetical Ideas, Messages, Information and Resources.

Posts tagged ‘art’

Bit by bit

Hemmed in by dancing butterflies

a calm halcyon lake is achieved

stacks of waves lapping

on the shoreline

a gust of cool wind

time depicting

dribs and drabs

blurred vague vision

aigrette of specks

of this earthly sphere

ordinary, persistent, timeless, classic

still tangled

for so many years

appear in every picture of life

embody its value

the moment i can finally meet you

it’s all God-given love.



Meditation is not indifference

meditation is not reticence

meditation is a kind of learning

simple yet recondite

serene and wise

calm contrivance

meditation is a virtue

a kind of wisdom

a kind of knowledge

a kind of grace

a kind of force

a kind of art

a kind of wealth

the meditative sun is a kind of glory

the meditative mountain is towering

the meditative blue sky is lofty

the meditative earth is broad

the meditative grassland is vast

the meditative time is profound

the meditative elderly is maturity

the sea after meditation

finally rolls up the waves

the horizon after meditation

finally raises up the sun

after all the meditation

the natural world finally awakens

a new year

a new spring

after years of meditation

history finally lights up

new students.






Aspiration is a rock

that produces the starry spark

aspiration is a spark

that lights up a lamp

aspiration is a lamp

that illumines the night road

aspiration is a road

that leads to dawn

life is a flame

aspiration is the wick.

Life is life


is footprints

following a person


is left and right hands

seperated by a heart

life is

a simple four-letter word

a pine tree on the cliff

painting a totem on the precipice

an eagle soaring above the clouds

overlooking the earth in a misty space

a wild horse

provoking the blooming nerves

the morin khurr of Mongolia

with a graceful figure

a forceful soul

an early spring sprout

budding in the footprint of winter

the backbone of a train

stretching out the strong sound

of the track.



warm summer

on a cold winter night

this moment

i want to go to the sea

see the rising sun

hear the ebb and flow

if time could rewind

i would still choose

to sit on the beach

listen to the wind

keep this segment of





Splashing colors

to render the realm

outside the landscape

to reconcile a meaning

and shine it

in and outside of canvas

faintness of lines

revealing the secrets

of pupil

a painting is not

a solidified landscape


the trails of decryption

of the pupil.

Oil painting

Behind the wooden door

yellowed walls oozing luster

no breath in them

no vigor

a quiet painting is hung there

having lost its former gloss and glory

yellowed wallpaper screening

an old story

no one knows its exact age

where it happened

it lies there quietly


the flight of time.

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