Thursday, November 12, 2009

haiku (archived 2009-11-12)


through the dead of night ~ the remote conversations ~ of neighborhood dogs

in a thousand words ~ ghost-written on blank paper ~ essay on "silence"

basking in the moon ~ my second chance for sunlight ~ having slept all day

vietnam vet sits ~ by his box, wipes the spit off ~ like when he came home

forgets her name twice ~ blowing his second chance at ~ a first impression

small boy at the beach ~ in his hand, a million years ~ of ocean pebbles

my private raindance ~ sorrows dropping from the sky ~ into the desert

wrapped around themselves ~ in the dark back row, they miss ~ the second feature

he closes his eyes ~ and air tickles his palm as ~ the hummingbird lands

• still dressed as skeletons ~ long after Halloween ends ~ the trees without leaves

cat back from the sun ~ slinks back through the prison bars ~ to warm his cold hands

before he wakes up ~ the stars replace the lost dreams ~ the night has stolen

dropping from a cross ~ a spider leaves his sanctum ~ starts walking on air


Sunday, November 1, 2009

haiku (archived 2009-11-06)


drinking in the park ~ homeless man writes poetry ~ talking to the birds

in the hospital ~ listening to the beeping ~ of his tell-tale heart

reading Poe at night ~ hearing a tap-tap-tapping... ~ rain on the window

frozen in the sky ~ watching the snowflakes dancing ~ falling star escapes

ghosts of butterflies ~ swirl past unopened cocoons ~ riding on snowflakes

the bright voyeur moon ~ quietly peeks in my room ~ then sneaks dead away

to run in the wind ~ not knowing that heartbreaks ~ are but luxuries

the echoing drip ~ from a hidden waterfall ~ the cavern's music 

the dark clouds lighten ~ after dropping their troubles ~ on the backs of trees

lying on my chest ~ warming my soul while he sleeps ~ God's purring machine

from street-lit caverns, ~ gutters dripping waterfalls... ~ night rains of music

she and I alike, ~ tossing pebbles in the stream ~ ripples meet sometimes

I'm watching her dream ~ from thousands of miles away ~ laying next to me

cold, crisp morning light ~ shining bright on my worries ~ making them sleepy

The bad dogs of words ~ never coming when you call ~ knowing the way home

they all chose the blue ~ but inside his quiet heart ~ he held a green stone

like shards of sharp glass ~ reflecting a thousand suns, ~ my brave broken heart...

it is hardly fair ~ that he can both sing and fly ~ while I watch, earthbound

first time seeing snow, ~ ferret catches a snowflake ~ and it disappears...

dreams tap my shoulder ~ my door creaks itself open ~ the sky says "up here..."

scratching at the door ~ with a realistic dead mouse ~ yowling trick or treat

so quickly, snowflakes ~ asking me why? then melting ~ before I can speak

tattered, edges frayed ~ I pull it over your pain ~ my heart's worn blanket

to face the dark ~ and yet, at the last moment ~ not turn away

thief in my pockets ~ ferret steals my wallet while ~ picking my heart's lock

native girl praying ~ for the forest animals ~ before the storm comes

we are God's canvass ~ on which He fingerpaints life ~ beaming like a child

still filled with water ~ her vase of wilted roses ~ and his unread card

morning shivering, ~ the roaring night burns out ~ blurry-eyed star winks

little deaf girl sings ~ two sparrows sing harmony ~ on the fence, unseen