I can’t write haiku
about that fellow taking
the shutter cord for his toy.
I could write haiku
about the suspense thrumming
as I breathe deeply.
Right now I think
only of the two donuts
awaiting me, soon…
The nurse guides a man
on the phone; he’s gotten lost
and have not we all?
I had to hear them
squabbling over violence, to
appreciate peace.
One mustn’t assume
The ambulance man
he sees me, my northbound bus,
then runs to the west.
Gasoline can, spilled
then righted, five yards away
sunny-hot pavement.
Yes, Lloyd Building,
Yes, Int’nl Teriyaki,
Stay, feeble sunshine!
Five pigeons, rooftop
one does a dance while the rest
perch, vigilant.
Does anybody
think, of this old bench, and its
conversation husks?
“I can’t stand the rain”–
Drops on bus window
why do some tarry, others
plunge headlong to ground?
Nearsighted, sensing
rain through library window–
a shiver in air.
Will you stop to count
how many short messages
written on your clothes?
After twenty years
I’m unfriended, for getting
David Bowie wrong.
Purple air mattress
outside Portland; too tired
to switch off the lights.
i can hear them on the
other side of the door
laughing and shouting about our blind, deaf, dumb dog
and the blasting tv
and the open window letting in the rain
and the food still clinging to the "clean" plates
i think it's beautiful
i think maybe there's a spot on that couch where i can pet that
blind, deaf, dumb dog
and maybe i can get away with yelling about stuff too but not doing it
i think maybe they're already happy
i think maybe one more person is just a crowd
i think maybe i'll just shut my door all the way and count the bumps
in my popcorn ceiling
i screamed at the stars
and cried in the rain,
breaking my nails
as i tried to claw the broken thing out
of my chest.
but it didn't do any good.
it never will
because the broken isn't in me.
I'm used to stay outside & wet
Of the heavy rain,
Just like how you treated me...
Rain’s smell in summer,
How it looks on the pavement,
How it feels on skin…
Looking for the woman
from my dream last night.
Her eyes were the Cuyahoga River,
and her touch was
the first drop of unfrozen rain to fall on your shoulder
in the beginning of Spring.
Bright, yet beautiful
Light fills the room with a glow,
Almost like Heaven.
Autumn shaded leaves
Fall gracefully to the ground,
Lighter than laughter.
The constant burn of
The sun, lingers on your skin
More stable than love.
A winter wind blows
Snow, across a field of black
Like our differences.
A hard rain falls down,
Causing a pool to ripple
Like problems we face.
Poised, and elegant
you you you
thats all it is
and when i act like i dont care
im lying to myself
because it is you i think about
every minute of every day
its you when i cant sleep
its you when i do
when i see the sun set and the clouds turn to beautiful shades of oranges and pinks
its you
its you when i hear a sad song
its you when i see a guitar
its you when i cant think
and when i can i cant
because its always you
when i think of home i think of you
One didn't have the faintest notion
The slightest hint
Of what was to come.
A few flowers fell at first
Feigning sleep, and hugged the ground.
Looking up, I saw the branches tremble.
What was there to fear?
Then a forlorn little one broke away
And fell – on the soft grass.
Marvelling at the way the treetop swayed,
I chuckled when a small mango hit my shoulder
Too small, to take a bite.
Faintly, I heard the rumble of a distant thunder -
Then dark clouds approached the skies rapidly
Darkening my world, swift, ruthless.
There were flashes in the sky
You never know from where a breeze would waltz in
And when.
In the sultry heat,
When trees bend their heads, looking so forlorn
And leaves curl
(There is such sorrow in watching them)
When street dogs scramble beneath shade
And lie panting
When clothes in the clothesline hang limp
Like mourners of the dead -
I -
In the centre of the crossroads
That extends to barren emptiness all around…
I hear the flutter of fallen leaves at my feet
And turn to look –
The breeze comes up, smoking.