SHUTUP30.3: Eye of the Tiger

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Today’s prompt was to write a journal through the eyes of an animal as it observes the world. As there are no animals that love me, I wrote about ominous ones instead.

The ties that bind you,
supper, are of home-spun silk,
decay at a touch.

Quake, wizened human,
before my dark mighty wings!
All this trash is mine.

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Equanimity

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Equanimity –
ever more elusive, the
harder we give chase

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cc via Flickr by Minas Stratigos

Stories

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If my pen wrote true,
oh the stories I could tell
through chattering teeth!

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This house in Setagaya Ward, Tokyo, used to belong to the writer Tokutomi Roka. On a January morning, the interior was freezing, and I struggled to imagine writing there. When I say “if my pen wrote true”, I’m impugning the central heating, not his honesty. Photo by the author.