High enough to glimpse the tail of the serpentine river that snakes through town.
I thought about the marriage of possibilities created by that ceaseless flow.
And all seemed possible under heaven and on earth.
POEM: Danube
3
Category Archives: Poetry
GREEN WINTER HAIKU
a crow caws
standing on a stout post
black eye watching
a child wonders,
beyond this rainy valley,
is it white?
nothing scurries
but mushrooms sprout
wet forest floor
lonely bus stop
one man waits for a nearly
empty bus
streaks of blue
viewed through cloudy skies
a bird hops
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POEM: Unbridled Exuberance
At the sight of I know not what,
something — or, maybe, someone —pointed out by his grinning granny,
I saw a boy run in place,
overcome by enthusiasm from the waist down —
like a cherubic Michael Flatley sans the coordination, but with exuberance to spare.
At the sight of the boy,
I couldn’t help but ask myself when my idle setting got turned down so low.
Surely, once upon a time, there was something that so excited me that my limbs bypassed central control and spastically did their own thing…
but I can’t remember when.
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POEM: Geometry of Gunfire
geometry of gunfire
ricochet went that way
the spray of spall tells all
some silent medium
will gauge the victim’s run
with
visions of a smoking gun
… and you thought you hated Euclid in High School
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POEM: Time’s Arrow
Precognition?
I barely have post-cognition —
which is to say, memory.
I have memories of memories of a world that never was.
Cobbled together hopes, dreams, and fears made into a montage of me.
One could chip away at what never was, but I’m not sure reality could support it’s own weight.
What was might end up a toxic rubble, steaming away into nothingness.
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COLD HAIKU
bitter winds
slice down from the north
so bone cold
damp air sinks
hangs as a cloak of cold
a straitjacket
starry skies
viewed through tent flap crescent
arctic outhouse
cold awakens
each moment, a moment lived
satori by ice
brisk joy
the skater’s frisson
feels electric
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POEM: Lost Land
In the silver slips of morning,
fog draped across the land.
Shore definition is fleeting;
no glimpse of strand from strand.
Yet ducks and gulls fly by the nose,
quacks and screeches lend a hand
to we blind few who lean on sight,
and, hence, have lost the land.
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POEM: Picturesque City
contrail-crossed cool blue skies-
contrails catching hints of some pink-orange hue
amber sunlight sails in sideways,
so all surfaces either glow warmth,
or hunch in dank shadow
no foul winds blow through the cold air and cleansing rays, so the city is psychically scrubbed
bold buildings and muscular mansions age with a grace rarely seen in our kind, but known in the weathered silver-hairs who draw envious glances to their last breath
even the haunting neo-Gothic rooftops and grotesque gargoyles only pull the city from sweet to charming
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HAIKU OF BREATH
at the seashore
breath syncs to lapping waves
sea teachings
in between
the inhale and exhale
lies stillness
a breath missed
life takes a moment’s pause
mind is void
slow the breath
drawing each instant out
slow your world
breath control
lets one drop the sails
in rough seas
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FOGGY HAIKU
cloud fallen
resting on muddy ground
and limp dry grass
lulled to sleep
staring out a window
into the fog
faint edges
reality is swallowed
by the fog
foggy morn
black branch scribbles
in the gray
what shapes become,
edges softened and deformed,
fog monsters
