Eat My Haiku

Eat my haiku please.

Not only for sustenance,

but for enjoyment.

to be desired

wanting to be desired

I listen for his twills, and a chirpy tune –

subdued, I cower in my nest

luscious spring mountain

luscious spring mountain

she sings into the rabbit

mucked water turns well

food-less this spring morn

food-less this spring morn,

toads, frogs, swamp and I all smile –

together , sojourn.

… and you?

… and how about you? are you feeling blue

in the dusk of the diluted light?

shedding winter weight

shedding winter weight-

bicycling, hiking, such fun !

it’ll take all summer

always worth a re-read

Sippin my mocha –

Letters To a Young Poet

Sage advice for all

coming horizon

Coming horizon –

a scarred toad coalesces

old ice on its brow

A winter mirror

A Winter mirror.

An iced tear, drops and shatters –

shivery moments.

ghost upon my bed

A ghost appears

above my silver bed sheets,

her vapid yet amorous eyes exuding vapors.

The dank dripping of decayed sex

emanates from her hollowy chest –

a puddle of vapor melds into a dimple.

I close my eyes to sleep,

a cool kiss on my lips

and my world turns grey.

driftwood in concrete

driftwood in concrete,

tempest worry’s the traveler –

walking through white muck

smoke lingers

smoke lingers atop

white stream vacantly coils

over root beer bottles 




an assembly of bees

An assembly of bees

drowned in honeycomb –

the empowered one alone.

Horicon Marsh

A thin Crane wades between cattails in shallow water

lily pads, stagnant wetland, summer drought is futile-

a bluegill splashes, and the Grey Crane Smiles with hope.


Manipulations of poetry

truthful proclamations

shredding the papers,

false impressions become villainess.

Forgiveness can be given,

tear stains on my chest

can’t be removed with a pink pet eraser-

my entrails cringe at the image of your lies.

rock river III

The river whispered to me

circled me till I believed it –

I handed it the rope in the dark

leaving my jeans on a picnic table

I stepped into the cool, dark, river

my skin was pleased with the water

the current took me away from my clothes

I drowned in its wheel of misfortune.

iced mocha

Summer evening, iced-mocha

silent lovers share dessert –

they speak loudly with hands

white bear

please forgive my race

white bear of the ice –

my tears are no consolation

noble bees

single drops and a drip,

sweet-orange slices rain down my chin,

bee’s return from the honeycomb trip

haiku doesn’t pay

Haiku doesn’t pay –

I guess I’ll seek nourishment

at the soup kitchen

a walk of solace

A meditation walk,
a walk of remembrance,
a walk of solace.

She reaches for her husbands hand,
for his quiet comfort.
A hint of light blue in the east,
arctic lights to the north,
sheets of purple frolic over brilliant greens,
like silk flags billowing in the wind,
above the frozen canopy of the mountain pines.

She pauses under the somber light show,
thinks about Grape flavored Laffy Taffy,
how her sons mouth would turn purple,
green alien figurines that made him laugh.
She remembers the first turquoise dragonfly,
mounted in his bug collection, caught along this trail,
this meditation walk, this very walk of healing.
She remembers his nose scrunching up at buttery green peas,
but how he loved split pea soup.

Her husband holds her chubby, reddening cheeks
in his soft hands, wipes her eyes
with his thumbs, and kisses her cold forehead.
She takes a deep breath and falls to her knees
on the snow-covered trail.