A moment ago,
in a flicker of pique,
with a wave of the hand,
I dispersed them.
Glorious birds,
now they are back,
gold talons wrapped,
roosting.
Glorious birds,
high on a wire,
spearing the nits
in their feathers.
More at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com/.
some of us have
seconds, minutes
hours, days
weeks, months
others years
to figure out
what the hell
life’s about
but so few do
for heaven’s sake
consider me
how about you
More at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com/.
She emerged winged-foot from the sky
Like an angel in Apollo’s shadow
Fathers from the heavens fingers
Announce with thunderbolts and lightning
Messages drift above to form shapes
In different layers of colored clouds
Lands on a mountain cap with harp
Notes cut like ribbons to reveal
Distance between the long still islands
In the stoke of beating heart and rhythm
Held my hand like feathers falling
Fell through her like warmth reclaimed
Up ahead rotating pastures play
Scenes of tall castles golden shine
Strong winds unfold the darkness away
Where loneliness once walked freely
Transforms into along with her eyes
Only sunshine regardless of the hour
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end of the affair
old blossoms
for sale
More at https://twitter.com/Haikuintraining.
The prickly roses and the violets, too are gone
sweet memories of past picnics and summer fairs
of Renaissance ladies, leading us to lush lawns
where I won at the games, two large stuffed bears
that drunk on laughter, we gave away, that once upon
a lifetime ago, inscribed in our hearts, a dream shared
though its beginnings courted danger and purloined risk
with your dark hair and shaded eyes shadowing escape
when I took you from that biker you hitchhiked with
taking to the highway that we found in every place
I remember your stolen smile, your half-way kiss
that one day was gone without any forward trace
though I regret tears that come with a fool’s blindfold
I take comfort in seeing what you mean to me still.
There beyond the shrub
the sun medallions on the grass
around a python and boar,
the python winding.
Through binoculars I see
the python work so slow.
The boar now knows
what I learned long ago.
To go this way
takes years.
More at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com/.
There’s comfort
In old tales
And old ways
Is that why you refuse to budge?
Is that why you refuse to change?
There’s comfort
In old tales
And old ways
Is that why you keep me caged?
I won’t fly my dear
For I too find comfort in old ways
I am caged
Without a cage
From stone age
There’s comfort
In old tales
And old ways
I will not steal you words
I will not steal your sword
I will speak if spoken to
If not I will hide my words in the blues
There’s comfort
In old tales
And old ways
You feed me stale stories
Day after day
Month after month
Year after year
And I thrive
If you suddenly change the stories
I will not survive
There’s comfort
In old tales
And old ways
I keep singing
Songs of freedom
For days
And you clap
A thunderous applause
By one man audience
Is what I am used to
I will be lost if not for you
There’s comfort
In old tales
And old ways
I taste the sunrays
Everyday
Burning my tongue
Little by little
The day the taste changes or the day the tongue burns
Will be the end of times
And the rhymes