Complacent Ronin

White Tiger in the Grass

Through a man’s eyes is a story
with pages stained at corners
pen or sword
both rest in sheaths honed finer
than any blade that might rest inside it

a tiger’s teeth caresses grass
so do the leather sandals of a hunter
to strike while calm gulps of sake
are taken full-on, while winter moans its
challenge

proper switching of balance from one foot to the other
is lost
all who stood before have become chaff
what need is there to stain the horizon with
blood?

crook of the arm becomes a lacquered sheath
for the head, now in full rest
for the might that long ago drove tigers
out of reach

more by LORD BISON

Photograph by Tambako The Jaguar

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Lord Bison

Jazz-soaked spirit running circles around despair...or something like that. Really. Lover of words, lover of being in worlds free...just...free. New Yorker, artist, Virgo besieged by airhead tendencies akin to Libra moves. Bronx is home base. Began an obsession with writing at seven and twenty-odd years hence, still at it. Enjoy/love/hate/be bored/appreciate to your heart's content. Or something like that. http://www.lbisonartist.com

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