An Autumn Sunset

In the shadowy evening,
Behind dark fences and houses,
The sky is pink, orange, and shining;
A secret feeling arouses.

Earthly splendor becomes so drab
As the majestic sun descends,
All around, a dry crusted scab,
All above, beauty without end.

Though my skin and clothes are dull gray,
Inside my human heart’s lining,
The secret unknown to this day,
Emerges briefly from hiding.

It paints the sky in celestial hues,
Enraptures with subdued grandeur,
As if through the air a god flew
In a magnanimous manner.

Loud throngs of heavenly beings
Crowd around, and wait for His tale,
As a preamble, Sky Nymphs sing,
Their refrain: “He shall never fail!”

He tells of the vast victory,
The hard losses along the way,
Gods transcribe it as history
In the epic “Annals of Day.”

Meanwhile, on earth, I look around,
“Did someone see that? Do they know?”
Shadowy suburbs make no sound
As if they slept through the loud show.

The secret is this: each moment
Is a journey, each thought a quest
To be bravely and wisely spent;
All else is illusory tests.

To cherish virtue is to know
The sweet gorgeous autumn sunset,
To fly above all that is low
To where your divine side is met.

Autumn, 2010

Storm the Walls of China!

Storm the walls of China!
Make them pay for what they’ve done,
Truth will be our weapon,
It fiercely pounds till we’ve won.

Storm the walls of China!
Each and every dead one’s name
Are legions in our cause,
Now’s the time to place the blame.

Storm the walls of China!
All the facts will be our shield,
Sixty years’ tyranny,
Now it’s time for them to yield.

Storm the walls of China!
Communism is now dead,
Their weapons fall apart,
Their inhuman ways are shed.

Storm the walls of China!
Each and everywhere we are,
Our thoughts will be missiles,
Quickly traveling very far.

Storm the walls of China!
We’ll uproot them from this earth,
Unclench their blood-stained claws,
And watch the Free Age's birth.

Innocence Unknown

One sunny day at the edge of the woods,
Two small children found two rocks that looked good,
Perfect for sliding and climbing, standing,
And jumping to a soft tumbling landing,
But, as it were, these great toys in the ground,
Were ambushed by broken glass all around,
Two smashed beer bottles laid siege to each rock,
One for each curious child to take stock.

I quickly raced to pick up broken glass,
Sharp shards hid like villains in the soft grass,
The children’s body parts narrowly escaped,
As my hand dashed, an implement of fate.

Quickly act for the innocence unknown,
For all that is broken, we must atone!

Light and Grass

Light and grass reflect in the stream,
Tranquil outside the palace walls,
Her image looks like an old dream,
That rises, sinks, but never falls.

(Written on April 29, 2006)

A Late Winter Scene

Pools of shimmering melted snow,
A bird flies above leafless trees,
The crisp wind gives a gentle blow,
A year’s cold sufferings unfreeze.

The seasons change with gallant Spring,
The world looks at itself anew,
Three sit cross-legged meditating,
With clear minds and hearts so true.

Drops of water fall from white snow,
Like sweat that falls from a strained face,
The pain of racing thoughts don’t show,
As they evaporate into grace.

Leaves like attachments now removed,
On the Spring ground they are but dust,
For students of the Way, it behooves
To keep only what they must.

The austere, skeletal branches
Mirror their cold cheekbones made gaunt
Surviving life’s avalanches,
They’re students no ghost would dare to haunt.

The austerities of Winter
Temper the heroes of the Spring,
And all nature is the cantor,
For epic hymns the students sing.

The Wind and the Leaf

From whence does the Wind blow the Leaf,
These same air particles and atoms,
What stories do they know, what grief?
Did they once portend a phantom?

And who am I to them?
A villain, a stranger, hated uncle?
“Tarry not,” says the Leaf from its stem,
Flexing its green curved muscle.

“They are the guest and you the lord,
They're worried what you think of them,
There is no need to draw your sword,
They think your heart a precious gem.”

The Leaf makes a good point,
I keep on the narrow sidewalk ahead,
With each breath of air I anoint,
And with each step, this earth I wed.

A Sonnet for Falun Dafa Day 2010

Trumpets blast, the sky opens, light shoots through,
Gods of all Kingdoms now smile anew,
Legions of celestial soldiers salute,
Between the drums beats, flourishes of flute,
Cherubs and heaven’s maidens spread flowers,
Time himself breaks for a joyous hour,
And all the Earth is silenced in their minds,
Bedazzled at heart by what they did find.

Never did they imagine the cosmos
Itself is alive, its meaning so close,
As pure and as simple as Zhen-Shan-Ren,
Precious spring blossoms in the world of men.

I open my eyes from meditation,
Cherub’s flowers leave a sweet sensation.



Zhen-Shan-Ren: in English is Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance. The three main principles of Falun Dafa.

Poem by Evan Mantyk
Photos by Katy Mantyk

Genevieve

A sister from some now storied past life,
Makes my friend of a friend an able wife,
Kings and queens, bishops and knights, come and gone,
There’s a reason you were never a pawn.

(April 9, 2010, On the occasion of the marriage of Genevieve Long and Gidon Belmaker)

A Sonnet for Senator Bunning

People talk energy independence,
Well then how about debt independence?
And they talk on about spreading freedom,
Fighting climate change and terrorism
What about something that’s very concrete?
On which you can plant your sane, human feet?
Somewhere like China, where most our debt goes,
And from where the most acrid wind now blows,
And smells of dead babies, tortured Buddhists,
Forced (cheap) labor, and tank-crushed advocates,
They lend us money, we lie in their bed,
Screw unemployment! People are dead!

Senator Bunning, Plain Genius, stay strong,
We’ve laid in China’s diseased bed too long.

My Battle with the Demon of Lust

The demon of lust laughs at me,
Naked succubi cloud the sky,
Master sets my tangled hands free,
With a poised Fa sword, up I fly.

A Train Ride

I.

A train ride through the nestled town,
The morning mist lifts ups its veil,
From ordinary to most profound,
Her thoughts a boat that just set sail.

II.

Layers of filth in ditches there,
Is something left shiny beneath?
Above the filth, between the air,
And on her head, a shining wreath.

III.

Endless emotions crossed these tracks,
Attachments bear down so heavy.
She exits, her feet sealing cracks,
The last stop is tranquility.