the red hibiscus
draws attention to itself,
while pointing downward.
Red Hibiscus [Haiku]
2
Category Archives: poem
The Writing on the Wall [Free Verse]
I see the writing on the wall,
and find it untrustworthy
because of all the stories
of valiant warriors
framed for treason
with forged poems
scrawled on tavern walls.
And of the virtuous men
who did write rancorous poems,
but did so while blackout drunk.
And I wonder whether the words
I am seeing are forged or written
under the influence
of intoxicants,
or -- possibly -- they are the truth.
But I cannot read them,
so I find them irrelevant,
though they may convey
crucial information,
such as:
- the existence of a vampire infestation, or
- the presence of cholera in the town well.
So, I can see the writing on the wall,
but I find it neither trustworthy
nor relevant --
(though my life may depend
on its contents.)
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
“Grown about by Fragrant Bushes” by Robert Louis Stevenson [w/ Audio]
Grown about by Fragrant bushes,
Sunken in a winding valley,
Where the clear winds blow
And the shadows come and go,
And the cattle stand and low
And the sheep bells and the linnets
Sing and tinkle musically.
Between the past and the future,
Those two black infinities
Between which our brief life
Flashes a moment and goes out.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
Ripe [Haiku]
“Of Glory not a Beam is left” (1685) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]
Of Glory not a Beam is left
But her Eternal House --
The Asterisk is for the Dead,
The Living, for the Stars --
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
Jack-o-Lantern [Haiku]
the wobble & flicker
of candle flame animates a
face carved to stillness.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
Early Bloomer [Haiku]
the early blooms
are wilted; they’ll be gone when
the tight buds open.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
Deer [Lyric Poem]
In the forest, I saw a deer;
It sniffed the air with urgent fear...,
And then resumed its feeding,
Finding the threat of me misleading.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
“The Little Boy Lost” by William Blake [w/ Audio]
Father, father, where are you going
O do not walk so fast.
Speak father, speak to your little boy
Or else I shall be lost,
The night was dark no father was there
The child was wet with dew,
The mire was deep, & the child did weep
And away the vapour flew.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
Faux Ice [Haiku]
the low morning sun
burns through gray clouds; the
still lake looks iced over
Tiger Riding for Beginners 