towering temples poke clear of the canopy: to be seen by god above, or not to be seen by people below?
Towering Temples [Kyōka]
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Category Archives: Poetry
Little Doors to Nowhere [Lyric Poem]
I love a little door to nowhere, with no apparent reason to be. Not under a sign or in the square, but in a privy wall or thick tree. Somewhere one would least expect a door. Somewhere that begs the question: "Where to?" A place for mean rogues, scamps and whores? A hideaway that offers no clue. It would probably just disappoint: to learn the sanctum's private intrigues. Not some tough, sleazy speakeasy joint, or bohemian savants' league. And so, I never, ever knock, but let the story form in my mind - a tale to titillate and shock, one that leaves no misanthrope behind.
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Pebble Walks [Haiku]
crude tracks weave, merge, & part on the pebble beach: sober drunkards' walk.
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Pillbox Kitsch [Tanka]
what is this place, with its defensive bunkers on every rise? lasting vestiges of war, so unlike my childhood home.
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Patches [Haiku]
Silk Road Vagabond [Free Verse]
Dusty trails & caravans.
Traders & spice
slow walking
toward coin.
A thousand merchants,
a thousand tongues,
& lingua franca confusion.
Dazed & dreary
every eve.
Wired each morn.
Sleeping under starry skies
with long silences between
bleating goats or screeching hawks.
Dog, companion & security guard,
barks only when someone approaches,
and there is so much space
to lend wide berth.
Silk Road vagabonds
walk the path alone:
exploiting and dropping
opportunities at will.
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Infinite Regress [Free Verse]
The sweep of trees
forms a mandala.
The eye roams over it,
looking for a center
that doesn't exist.
Those roving eyes
rove & repeat:
caught in an
infinite loop.
And I wonder what hides
in the arc of trees?
What monsters mimic
the sinuous spine
of those pointy trees?
Whose eyes catch
the fine light,
reflecting back a
burning bright-yellow?
What lives unseen?
What flows unbidden?
What empties out,
but returns?
and returns?
and returns...
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Willow River [Haiku]
Due West, All Day [Free Verse]
driving due west
at day's end,
the sun too low for visors,
an angry sun,
flaring in one's sunglasses.
the interminable tick-tocks
it takes for the sun to drop
down behind the mountains.
oh, how one wishes
the sun would disappear,
even though, having driven all day,
there's something demoralizing
about knowing you require a couple
more hours of dark drive time
before pulling into a motel.
such a big country,
so much West remains.
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Sunny Side [Haiku]
the setting sun fires the mountain's Yang-side to max contrast.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 