Spirit Flying.

The Tiger.

by Louis Bertrand Shalako

c2010

All Rights Reserved


You may wonder why I walk this way

You may ask why I sit this way

How come you never walk a straight path?

You may ask

Why are you so quiet?

You ask

Where did you learn to listen that way?

And why are your eyes so strange?

You may well ask

I am a tiger

A lean and hungry tiger

A wet, cold tiger

A lonely tiger

One with no home range

A tiger has no friends

Only enemies and prey

I’m a very tired tiger

Yet I cannot sleep

My ears will hear the wind in the trees

And in the darkest hour of night

I will arise and move on again

I am a tiger

Sometimes it’s hard being a tiger

Sometimes I want to weep, but don’t

‘Cause I’m a tiger

I guess that saying I’m a tiger is to say

I’m always hungry, always alert

Always watching

Listening and smelling

Waiting

For you.

Done.

The Way.

by Louis Bertrand Shalako

c2010

All Rights Reserved


We must ignore the dictates of society and seek only to conform with the underlying patterns of the universe.

The Tao, or ‘way,’ cannot be described in words, nor conceived in thought. To achieve oneness with the Tao, one must do nothing, ‘wu-hei,’ which is to say we must do nothing strained, artificial, or unnatural. It is a state of openness and humility.

One must obey the impulses of one’s spontaneous nature, and empty oneself of all doctrines and ‘knowledge,’ such a prideful word.

To achieve unity with the Tao is to derive from it a mystical power, one which surpasses ordinary human experience. It is to transcend all mundane limitations and distinctions, even the distinction of life and death.

Serenity is mine.

The Trouble with Tycho

by Louis Bertrand Shalako

c2010

All Rights Reserved


The trouble with Tycho

Is that it’s very dry

The moon is a harsh mistress

Unless you know how to handle her

A city of darkness

A city of glass

A city of bones, a city of masks

Bones of crystal, masks of glass

But at least I am willing

To put my face where my mouth is

And for some reason, in some way

Somehow,

I am still morphing into a Frenchman

It’s not so bad being a Frenchman

But I would sure as hell like to know why.