possibility
keeps one trudging, breathless,
to the top
ridge tree
now seems much bigger,
but no nearer
looking out
from a hilltop, the view —
and I — changed
The End is Near Haiku
3
Category Archives: poem
POEM: I Surrender
i’m free —
because i know not of what i need to be freed.
Is it a god?
Is it a program?
Is it meaninglessness?
Is it a make-believe conception of self?
Order?
Chaos?
Alien overlords?
i don’t know what game i’m playing,
and thus feel no compunction to play it well.
So, i surrender to the god of my own ignorance,
making mystery my higher power.
i searched the earth for a source of perfect truth, and found none.
No perfect scripture.
No perfect science.
No perfection in personal experience.
No perfect teacher.
But i’ve known bliss in the act of floundering through this dance of darkness,
and so,
i’ve got no complaints.
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POEM: Hate by Wire
Hate scuttles down a wire.
It was sent hatefully,
and received angrily.
But wire knows neither hate nor love —
nor does circuitry.
Electrons don’t.
Hardware doesn’t,
software doesn’t —
only wetware.
What passes down that line?
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Haiku that Move
a little rain
on a little slope
races seaward
the world blurs,
my brain strains to track
its motion
in stillness
one loses the world’s
steady spin
i throw myself
to silly dance — joyous
that i can
the perched raven
still swivels its eye
in stone mode
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POEM: Lost @ Sea
rum-dumb sailor,
bobbing in the horse latitudes —
dying dryly —
parched, in a fluid universe
he prays to the holy mother of Time —
prays that she have the courtesy to exist,
but she’s as silent as the wind,
and as invisible as the shore
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POEM: Questions of The Night Watch
What creates more and bigger monsters…
fear or drink?
boredom or loneliness?
Hell or High Water?
And when the Captain points the way…
How does one know that one has put the monster to the fore?
What lurks in the shadowed archway, behind?
Who charges forward to the tune of,
“Lead onward, oh ye of the pointy stick!”
And why does yonder illuminated woman carry a chicken?
It’s a snack too raw for the Night Watch,
but too small to distract a monster.
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POEM: Sizzle Reel
Source: Bart Everson https://www.flickr.com/people/11018968@N00
It feels like living in a sizzle reel —
a jump cut waking nightmare shot too bright
for gritty city scenes where off clothes peel
while below grates are steaming in the night.
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POEM: Burdened Words
Some words are words; some words are garbage trucks.
They carry steaming piles of dumpster lumps,
and all the rained refuse the dim can chuck.
Becoming too laden to make the Dump.
And that poor word is broken down in funk.
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POEM: White Light
blinding white light,
followed by:
ice cream brain freeze —
above
&
between the eyes
like a red-hot poker
boring toward the pineal gland
some reveled in that feeling
others thought they were test driving hell
but whatever else it may have been —
IT WAS.
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Hibernation’s End Haiku
yellow light
of the setting sun
warms high branches
city unlocked,
birds and beasts return
to the background
crow perches
on a cast iron railing —
watching
wary people —
spring-thawed hibernators
rejoin world
bright flowers
bloomed, lived, and died
in my absence
