Alas, there should be much more. Things get lost to time, but finding an old file on my computer has regailed me with long past thoughts.
Jin Jun Mei:
1 In mythical lands of beasts and dragons, it’s there he built his loft
2 With products so fine – deer jerky and wine, it’s said his heart grew soft
3 He remains there today named Jin Jun Mei, the Golden furs he doffed
4 As the world crumbled he didn’t once tumble, exalted he turned and scoffed
5 Days like today are marked and will stay forever in time aloft
6 Tea is the way which together we say, we all grow old and cough
Da Hong Pao:
1 Our lives are lies and they’re not chosen a woman began to sing
2 Guided by nature we flow for a time, hopeless meandering
3 Fanning the flames will spread their pain all throughout the land
4 Rocks can melt and steam will rise but we will turn to sand
5 Like gods before we stand towards a river snaking and
6 Watch the mind of our children grow, always trying to expand
7 Teapots pour a dark red door of scent remembering
8 When was I dragon who billowed its flames along the 9 bend stream
9 I pack my cup up and remember to write down the gist of what I’ll say
10 Although they’re not chosen our lives have been woven in numerous people today
Change of Scenery:
Fragrant and perplexing its vapors fill my nose
Recalling days that never came aromatically verbose
Then one day I had a chance to show my friend this tea
Nothing special I thought to myself disgraced and awkwardly
Why some days the taste of rain so fluently comes to me
and other times as if it’s shy the tea pretends to sleep
I found a way to make it play if aromas hide from me
Open a window and freshen the air it works magically
Ode to Montecristo:
A pine tree dances in the wind
As the spring sun beams down on me
That very wind keeps me cool
The wind is my friend
I sit here on a crate
Gazing at an empty sky
Clouds of smoke billow from my mouth
Carob and tonka beans perfume the air
This is the food for my friend
I am as relaxed as the birds on the dancing pine
I watch its performance with my friend Montecristo
Backyard Tea:
Crows caw in the distance
Gulls search for food without luck
Wrapped in the cold I sip my tea
My neibours scrub with steel wool
Something which never seems to be clean
Chimes jingle somewhere and I sip my tea
It would be nice to have a deck
It would be nice to move to the countryside
Someones TV is on but their radio is just as loud
Cars round out the noise as I sip my tea
That sound was a bus
There is plenty of time for this
I sit here and hear while I sip my tea
Craggy Tea Set:
A violent tide ripped rocks from the crag
and carried them to the depths of the sea
Barnacles and kelp obscured the public view
as privately Time got to work manifesting this tool
The hermit crabs were kept away
so not to make off with a new home
While the seahorses guarded the cup left alone
Empowering tea or displayed on a stand
Reclaimed from the abyss by the hand of a man
Perfect tea is exhausting:
Tedium frolics in my mouth
Scent lacking scent
Flavor without flavor
Only the nose knows
The perfection of nothing
Is it incomprehensible?
Imperfection is tangible.
The tongue has a foothold,
While the mind climbs the jagged cliff,
Scaling a scented mountain
I’ll brew my tea poorly
To let my tired spirit rest,
Exhausted above the clouds
In a heaven bound bliss
The Ladybugs time of the month:
Over Clay Oven Naan and Heart of Gold Saag, us 4 we joyously spoke
About schools and children, the neibours and wine – some pornographic prose
Often I find there’s naught enought time to quench the time with those
Whos minds sublime I seek to shine a light on mine morose
Ladybugs climbed the shafts of grass, up to the point that pokes
At 2:32 I’m stuck on this line, the glue which holds verbose
Fuck it I guess, we’re changing the rhythm, they cringe at stuff like this
We ingited boxes from across the world that smelled of glue and fish
Drank sake expired or past its prime, and in Parmigiano reminisced
Riesling from Rhine and Mosel we wined until the fire wisped
I ordered an Uber that quickly arrived, Irfan was in our midst
Is it hard to remember a day like today? A poem to add to my list
Oh, and one final thing that escaped a verse, May 6th at 8:36.
OOOOOOnline drunk poem
Physically Monogamous
Digitally Polygamous
slight stubble on my chin
one by one plucked deep within
No hail of blades on azir
rhyee and moyo, daily appear
Today is may 7th 2021
Why restrict online lovers to one
I actually had hail of blades
Mo seems to know a lot for his age.
Arya’s Maze:
Lead into the darkness with a banana on a string
A stick pushed me into a hole I cannot escape
Sun bleached things and fragrant greens invade my sense of smell
This is a garden center, or greenhouse I think to myself
I wander along the mundane stepping on Ruby tiles
Suffocating in vinyl sheeting I collapse to the floor
The pot is empty, I gasp for fresh air
Stockholm syndrome is applicable here, I add water for more
I searched for a key in the pile of wet leaves but all I got was sweet
When I rose to my feet, two pathways emerged:
The scents of lemongrass or when car mufflers leak
I trudged through citrus reeds to a predictable end
and returned to re-embrace the sheets,
was the exhaust aroma gone or getting to me?
Disoriented I returned to the start, I scream “reset the maze”
I configured the walls the best I know how
The air was thick and tinted gold, the fragrance of bananaless bread aloft
It seems the space is shrinking, I’m running out of tea
The walls are closing in!
A few rooms remain still unexplored, I add water for more
Exhaust again fills up the room
I’m perplexed by the sudden end
Another tea to let me down, I sit and ponder thoughts
Hours went by mapping Arya’s Maze today
A map to no where, for no one, surely useful to record
I add it to my pile and prepare my wares for more
2005 Tie Guan Yin
So this is how you’ll be…
I’ve met you several times before, you wouldn’t remember…
Was it Gruner-Veltliner or aged Pinot Gris?
Throughout many lives for both of us, my karmic pattern wife
Some honey, and orchid, and a touch of powdered bleach
At one point I was Wei, you saved my village from famine
A soapy perfume that grandmothers wear in estates beside the beach
Now I live across the world, and remember you through fragrance
Your cycles of life pass so much faster than mine, I am glad I got to see
I know you’re busy being famous but it’s nice to see you grey
You hatching from your Chrysalis, my goddess of mercy
I’m here holding your future self feeling satisfied to know…
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