“Barter” by Sara Teasdale [w/ Audio]

Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And children's faces looking up
Holding wonder like a cup.

Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit's still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.

Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy
Give all you have been, or could be.

Water Lilies [Haiku]

water lilies,
in the early morning sun,
stand tall & proud.

Four Seasonal Haiku of Masaoka Shiki [w/ Audio]

SPRING

on wet feet,
the sparrows hop
down the hall.

SUMMER

the owl naps,
and dreams of a
summer grove.

AUTUMN

sunny autumn day:
smoke from something burning
rises skyward.

WINTER

a snowy night;
the sound of bamboo
rustling.

Autumn Gold [Haiku]

gold-sash Buddha
sits under Fall colors,
watching leaves drop.

Hide Your Light [Kyōka]

the rising sun
hides behind winter trees
as a fat kid
hides behinds a fence post,
fooling no one.

“Night Rain” by Bai Juyi [w/ Audio]

Chirp of an early cricket. Silence.
The lamp dies then flares up again.
Night must be raining outside the window:
plink, plink on the banana leaves.

Translation: Barnstone, Tony and Ping, Chou. 2005. The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry: From Ancient to Contemporary. New York: Anchor Books.

Temple Walk [Haiku]

frangipani blooms
litter the temple walk.
sound of sweeping.

Invisible Fence [Free Verse]

Where is the line whose crossing
sends a jolt through your system,
making you jelly-kneed & breathless?

Where is the line?

Do you know you're stepping over
before the shock zips through you?

Is anticipation of the shock
worse than the shock?

Who built this fence?

Who picked the notch to which
the severity of the shock
would be dialed?

Was it you?

“The World Is Too Much With Us” by William Wordsworth [w/ Audio]

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers; --
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

Diminished [Free Verse]

I take a sunrise photo
And find the glorious orb
Diminished by poor photography,
& upstaged by a flaring pigeon.