There was an old man from Qatar —
where the temp measures “hot” or “hotter.”
He’d go out in the day,
’til he melted away —
Like Frosty, sans the puddle of water.
Limerick of Qatar
3
Category Archives: Poetry
POEM: Mustard Seeds
She’s chasing after mustard seeds
from a household that’s known no Death.
With eyes that droop and feet that bleed,
she’s out of the village and into the weeds.
Finding a family that’s known only life
is like finding one that’s known but good deeds.
Not finding a one, she finally concedes
knowing her suffering is not unique,
and with that realization she is freed.
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Three Tanka on Impermanence
I
grass growing
through the concrete cracks;
roots spreading
and loosening the stones —
nature’s transplant rejection
II
mossy roof,
a cabin in the woods,
nature swallows
and digests all intruders
if given enough time
III
every living thing
becomes food in due time;
i’m fungi food;
should a wolf crack my corpse bones,
who am i to complain?
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POEM: Dig!
Something wicked resides below —
deep, but not underground.
You’ll not find it behind the drapes,
or in the Lost & Found.
Like a geologist, just Dig!
You’ll find it deep below.
But, still you’ll have to use great care —
no hurling, “Fire-n-the-Hole!”
You’ll have to tease out the answer,
chipping, and with a brush.
It’ll take a steady Hand & Mind;
some jobs are never RUSH.
We like to shout down the demons,
to call them by foul names,
but if you want to find the cure:
dig out the Fear & Pain.
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POEM: Funeral Suit
Worn one more time than the number of funerals you attend,
that black suit hangs forgotten — yet dreaded.
It hangs dusty in a closet,
or musty in a bag;
and you’re most listless when it has
a crisp dry cleaning tag.
In good years, it never crosses your path — or your mind.
In bad years, it’s needed repeatedly.
There will be a year in which someone will pull it out for you —
carefully smoothing its lapels —
the year you move beyond bad years.
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POEM: That Catastrophic Crack [a Ghazal]
A crack so thin that it could not be seen —
cracked into the windshield of that machine
A flaw that sits awaiting fatal fail —
the crack that pops and groans, yet still unseen
It will happen quickly; with no warning
from that disastrous crack one could not glean
An unforeseen implosion sounds sharply —
the catastrophic snap of cracked windscreen
So much depends on catching that thin gap
cracks become chasms with nothing in-between
So check your scratches and scrub that glass clean
so cracks don’t masquerade as scrape or seam
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POEM: A Shadow Sutra
A cloud is crawling overhead;
it drags a shadow overland,
but shadows never leave a stain
and, soon, the sun can make its stand.
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Filipino Limerick
There was an exporter from the Philippines
who got his start in karaoke machines,
then shoes and suits
and nurses and fruits
and, lastly, stretch-Jeepney limousines.
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Sunrise on the Mountain Haiku
I
jagged ridges
fade to obscurity,
and so do I
II
one mountaintop
shines in the morning sun,
the rest in shade
III
sunrays slant
from clouds to mountains —
morning rips through
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Limerick of Peru
There was a lady from Lima, Peru
who had only seen llamas at the Zoo,
and though the trend was big,
she didn’t eat guinea pig.
Such is life on a Miraflores avenue.
