two common trees,
seen from a distance,
merge to an ideal.
Merge [Haiku]
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Category Archives: poem
Smoky Morning, or: Smoky Mourning [Sonnet]
A smoky morning signals chilly air as those who live with walls of plastic sheet gather anything matches set aflare, and huddle where skin reddens from the heat. The toxic kindling of modernity can burn so quickly, swirling into ash. The search for fine fuel builds fraternity as all sift through the varied kinds of trash. They seek a slow and steady type of fire, but poison and explosive burn aren't linked. This toxic gas hangs low, where they inspire, a deadly vapor which makes this clan extinct. Smoldering pit, skirted by serene stiffs -- of what killed them, there remains no whiff.
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Charleston Limerick
There was a Bible-thumping lady from Charleston who, in her views, was no less than puritan. She tried to ban books she hadn't given a look because, like "Moby Dick," the titles were smut-ridden.
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Huế Limerick
There was a bike-rick driver in Huế always honked at for being in the way. He took loads fit for a truck, drove 'em crosstown for a buck, and got their faster by using the expressway.
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Zambia Limerick
There was a shrewd carpenter from Zambia dismayed to hear what was paid to IKEA. He took apart his shelves, said, "Make 'em yourselves!" upped his rates, but threw in a hex key-a.
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Crab Scramble [Haiku]
Coming Up for Air [Free Verse]
Breaching the surface,
one's neck craning, stretching,
one's lips in a wide "O,"
one gasps,
sucking air with a monster moan,
or maybe it's dying-man death-rattle.
The gasped breath
is insufficient,
and the body shoves
it back out,
craving more &
impulsively air packing.
As one bobs in the water,
one times another gasp
to the rebounding breach.
This one is more satisfying,
more calming:
the perfect breath --
for all intents & purposes.
There may be a time
when each breath is as precious
as this one.
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Japan Limerick
There was a rich businessman from Japan who'd always wanted to be his country's Batman. But his civil city was not Gotham-gritty, and the cape made him look like a madman.
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Winter Crow [Haiku]
Devourers [Lyric Poem]
We were classed: Consumer.
And that became our task.
The stores grew like tumors,
and in stuff piles we basked.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 