Monday, September 14, 2009

Red Headed Step Child of a Haiku







Satori is clothed
in red thread and candle light.
Then dawn combs her hair.





Thursday, August 27, 2009

On the Gravity of Apples and the Sobriety of Angels




Never informed by the sobriety of angels,
You have been this way since before

Jesus wept.

I dare not call you capricious,
in describing your erratic disguising;
you remain unbruised

or scared by the gravity of apples.
Yet you are not at all

inconstant,

you devilish dog star rising.






Sirius is called "The Dog Star" It is a binary star and the brightest in the heavens.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

I on trail in Appalachia







Rolling down mountains,
doubt fogs all my assumptions.
I am inconstant.

The cool of this morning air,
tempers the ascent of stone.





Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Corkscrew Angels








Corkscrew angels are surfing the mind
Box Elder, Maple, Elm, Cotton Wood,
miniature thoughts; mighty forests aligned.
Corkscrew angels are surfing the mind,
gliding intent, as if they were blind.
Budding with promise, imminent good,
corkscrew angels are surfing the mind,
Box Elder, Maple, Elm, Cotton Wood.









Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Poems of Dark Birds




Cloudburst under cover

of dark

leaves shaken limbs strewn.

Still, wild distant shore

birds

welcome sunrise.

What more from love

poems

with too many words?





Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Impermanence and The Dishes





What is it about how

you fill up an ice tray

that reminds me of the

difference among snowflakes?

Or why the random pattern

of pomegranate torn open

by mockingbirds on the lawn

looks like the puzzle

of your dishwasher load.

Is it merely the way you

are framed by the moment,

or the picture behind you,

left hanging askew

on a nail firmly anchored,

to the inescapable

impermanence of us?

I’ll help with the dishes”




Friday, July 17, 2009

I Can Take a Bleating: Loura's Lament





Beaten heart,
your heart is bleating,
afflicted, forlorn lover of a lamb.

Disconsolate crestfallen lamb,
this brutal beating, from your bloody heart
bedevils my ears, the burgeoning bleating.

It cannot button up this incessant bleating,
lupine lover, laced up lamb;
ardor never pleases your ravenous heart,

a beating heart bleating; a werewolf lamb baiting.