Fall Tenacity [Haiku]

dry and yellow,
 fall leaves hang on like a thick
  head of gray hair.

Ariel’s Song by William Shakespeare [from The Tempest]

Full fathom five thy father lies,
   Of his bones are coral made;
 Those are pearls that were his eyes:
   Nothing of him that doth fade,
 But doth suffer a sea-change
   Into something rich and strange:
 Sea nymphs hourly ring his knell.
          Ding-dong!
     Hark! Now I hear them,
          Ding-dong, bell!

NOTE: From The Tempest Act 1: Scene 2

Autumn Light [Haiku]

the sun is low,
but then it never gets high
this time of year.

Monkey Courage [Haiku]

ten seconds after
 a dead limb broke under it:
  poised to leap again.

Cold Sparrows by Yang Wanli [w/ Audio]

Hundreds of cold sparrows dive into the empty courtyard,
   cluster on plum branches and speak of sun after rain at dusk.
 They choose to gather en masse and kill me with noise.
 Suddenly startled, they disperse. Then, soundlessness.

NOTE: This translation from: Barnstone, Tony & Chou Ping. 2005. The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry. New York: Random House. p.422.

Vaulted Dome [Haiku]

rain trees
form a vaulted dome
over city bustle.

Rivers of the Dead [Free Verse]

So many cultures
make their dead
cross a river.

The Greeks' Styx.
The Hindus' Vaitarna.
The Norse Gjȍll.
The Gnostic's Hiṭpon.
The Japanese Sanzu-no-Kawa.
The Mesopotamians' Hubur.
Taoists cross Naihe Bridge --
over what (I'm not sure,
but) is probably a river.

No rest for the dead?
It seems kind of rude.

Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge [w/ Audio]

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
     A stately pleasure-dome decree:
 Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
 Through caverns measureless to man
     Down to a sunless sea.
 So twice five miles of fertile ground
 With walls and tower were girdled round:
 And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills
 Where blossom'd many an incense-bearing tree;
 And here were forests ancient as the hills,
 Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But O, that deep romantic chasm which slanted
 Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
 A savage place! as holy and enchanted
 As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
 By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
 And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
 As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
 A mighty fountain momently was forced;
 Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst 
 Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
 Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
 And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
 It flung up momently the sacred river.
 Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
 Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
 Then reach'd the caverns measureless to man,
 And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
 And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from afar
 Ancestral voices prophesying war!

     The shadow of the dome of pleasure
     Floated midway on the waves;
     Where was heard the mingled measure
     From the fountain and the caves.
 It was a miracle of rare device,
 A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

     A damsel with a dulcimer
     In a vision once I saw:
     It was an Abyssinian maid,
     And on her dulcimer she play'd,
     Singing of Mount Abora.
     Could I revive within me,
     Her symphony and song,
     To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
 That with music loud and long,
 I would build that dome in air,
 That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
 And all who heard should see them there,
 And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
 His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
 Weave a circle round him thrice,
 And close your eyes with holy dread,
 For he on honey-dew hath fed,
 And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Percussive Parade [Haiku]

drums & cymbal crash:
 a parade of percussion
  outside my window.

Brahma by Ralph Waldo Emerson

If the red slayer think he slays,
   Or if the slain think he is slain,
 They know not well the subtle ways
   I keep, and pass, and turn again.

Far or forgot to me is near;
   Shadow and sunlight are the same;
 The vanished gods to me appear;
   And one to me are shame and fame.

They reckon ill who leave me out;
   When me they fly, I am the wings;
 I am the doubter and the doubt,
   I am the hymn the Brahmin sings.

The strong gods pine for my abode,
   And pine in vain the sacred Seven;
 But thou, meek lover of the good!
   Find me, and turn thy back on heaven.