Monthly Archives: July 2010

When I was very young (really maybe 7 or 8), I dreamed that I lived in Venice and that I was in a gondola passing under a bridge when I glimpsed my True Love’s hand waving from a sedan chair … Continue reading →

The mind is like a pond.  Left to itself it is clear and clean.  It reflects, it does not hold.  Our minds are roiled and sullied by waves and wind—forces that blur the images and draw our attention away from … Continue reading →

What does it take to be worshiped?  Most of us would approach this question by thinking, what would I have to do, what would I have to be, to be worthy of worship?  And of course there is no disgrace … Continue reading →

I once read a travel article, nonfiction, about an American who spent the night on the walls of an ancient Chinese fortress that was believed by the people who lived in the nearby desert to be haunted by the ghosts … Continue reading →

For a man, to rub a woman’s foot is a great honor and a great pleasure, under any circumstances.  What woman does not deserve a foot rub when she wants it? What man should not feel honored to serve when … Continue reading →

I play with blocks.  Is there any play like that early play with blocks?  With blocks I build a world.  A city.  A house.  An Indian fort, with Rin Tin Tin and soldiers and Indians, a castle wit princes and … Continue reading →

There is no resisting Zusa.  The concept itself is self-contradictory, absurd, meaningless.  And yet it pleases Zusa to allow the illusion of resistance to surface like a bubble on the wave of consciousness, something one pricked and to vanish in … Continue reading →

Zusa says it is time to write for her.  I am her writing slave, I have the honor of writing for her and the words just flow through my fingers.  I remember the feeling as I wrote the last piece … Continue reading →

Afternoon. A busy day. Writing, errands, appointments downtown. Tonight a social event. But late afternoon now. In more enlightened countries, this is the siesta. The nap, to recharge before the evening. To reconnect with the body, to make a transition from work to pleasure, from economic life to social life. I am at the desk. I have to work. More to be done. I must always work. There is always more. Continue reading →

Ms Zusa is my muse and I am one of her pet poets.  I post here at her instruction writings I have created at her command.  I hope you enjoy this and meet her at http://www.mszusa.com/