Res Waterfall
Haibun The waterfall foams as it rushes over weathered black rocks. Its steady roar is a constant, alluring song whose lyrics I almost make out. Almost. sunlight gleaming from running water just sitting...
Tagged: new poem
The Golden Trapeze
Poem Movement humming Cicadas in the trees Peace swinging in the willows Velvet rays beam A golden trapeze Singing across meadows Reflections bending Illusory shadows Hoping for more to see Waiting for novelty Expecting...
Faith, or Lack Thereof
Esoteric Poem O secrets that you keep old Faith That draw upon my simple sorrow Your unknown the most tantalizing bate Knowing yesterday of my return tomorrow O secrets that you keep old...
Soraya’s Annual
Haibun I receive a call from AnaMaria. A family awaits me outside 282. I head to the office suite to meet them. Only they aren’t the family I’m expecting. I swallow, open the door...
On The Revisit
Spoken Word Hanging up the motive is harder Than breaking habits Braking at a stop sign From 50 to six miles At the drop of a dime Sets the teeth on edge Be...
Blossoming Terrors
Haibun The Japanese Maple grew in the center of 52 Holland’s front yard. Its long branches stretch to the sky like a petitioning priest. Its maroon foliage crowns the tree like a lion’s...
Immortality And Bliss
Poem I look up… hoping to see your face longing, to smile back at me… and your grace, your love to fill the missing piece. I know you’re there close yet far away....
Northern Light
Poem The light was still ours. It leaked from your eyes And your smudged hand Remains forever poised over Blank sheet. Night is never ending In that, we can agree. What little sun...
Strange Chinese Hat
Poem There is Pâquerette in sepia toned photographs like a ghost in strange Chinese hat and shimmering dark dress. She sits beside Pablo in the old cafe on boulevard Raspail. Their knees nudge...
Only In Spaghetti Westerns
Poem I saw tumbleweed for the first time and I thought: “It exists!” I am from one of those old European cities where there are no such things as tumbleweed. So I think...
Sinking Above Ground
Poem Standing at your grave surrounded by greying grass and spindly trees that reach for youth like the gnarled hands of a wise one, and wilting stones of those passed long before you...
