baby monkey seems to contemplate chains, or i anthropomorphize?
Contemplating Chains [Haiku]
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Tag Archives: poem
Dove Raid [Haiku]
Where Live the Idyllic Folk? [Sonnet]
In rustic cabins far away from here there live some happy people of the woods. With ruddy cheeks, they're exemplars of cheer. They never visit cities selling goods. They live on what the forest can render, and that's not so much, but it is enough. They tune themselves to nature's vast splendor. In cold, they don skins, but when hot, go buff. Or, perhaps, I lie, and no such people exist in this world or any other. And woods people fuss on matters, fecal -- just like you, I, and all our grandmothers. These cheery, simple woods folk must exist, if only in the mind of this fantasist.
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Russet Percher [Haiku]
the russet percher: its look says "fast flyer," but its name says "good sitter"
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Spontaneous Ideation [Free Verse]
ideas accelerate to the surface like air bubbles from whence they came, i cannot say they passed up from below the lit sea from the darkness maybe, like air bubbles, they follow a mostly straight path, but i cannot say for certain what happens below the light i catch only the vapor that drifts up out of the popping bubbles and it must be gathered quickly before it spreads on the wind, becoming lukewarm nothing... damn increasing entropy!
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The Rice Gamut [Haibun]
Terraced rice fields. Some, in rectangular blocks. Others, following valley contours. In the tropics, all stages exist at once: The mirrored surfaces of flooded but unplanted paddies. The orderly stubble of freshly planted fields. The max saturation green fields, densely packed with verdancy. The tawny fields of heavy-headed ripe rice. One may pass all of these (and gradations, thereof) as one walks the narrow lanes that dissect farmland. People, birds, and animals transit the slender paddy levees, lending color to a monotony of vibrancy. Sometimes, a weather-beaten man or woman wades in the field -- feet wide and bent at the waist. Nowadays, people come from far away (sometimes even paying admission) to see these fields -- to see so much green packed under blue skies and to let that photosynthetic glory wash over them. mirrored paddy -- flooded but unplanted; a child studies himself lush green fields. crows on the paddy dike command the eye tawny rice. stalks bent under grain-swollen heads
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Monkey Forest [Free Verse]
in the monkey forest, i think of Sun Wukong & Hanuman as a macaque steals my sunglasses
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Banana Leaf Snail [Haiku]
Winter Days [Sonnet]
My winter days are vaguely seen from here, but I cannot yet see the very end: only the plain that is the sum of fears, a sum that only living on transcends. The peek I take looks like my days back then. It's not so Batman noir as I've been told. My focus shifts to now; I find my Zen. The act of living life is growing bold. In dreams, that dreadful hour calls to me, and I feign sleep and turn my back on Death. If he can't be seen, maybe he can't lead, and I can soldier on with my next breath. My focus shifts to now; I find my Zen. It's good to gasp every now -n- again.
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Bone Cold [Blank Verse Sonnet]
From a stove-heated room, the snow brightens one's mind with hope that all will be made clean, but cleanliness is next to nothingness and nothingness is next to loneliness. From inside, snow is silencing and light. It's fine and shifts like sand in desert dunes. It's silent like the depths of a cabin at midnight on the prairie before time. From outside, snow saps all of one's resolve, and makes one wish to flee the purity it pretends to generate all around. The cold, it bites like a full-body vice. The feet go numb, but brains... they fire wildly -- they shake one awake, but dare one to sleep.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 