
Haiga 135

Home of "Haiku Mike"
Prune Juice Journal of Senryu & Related Forms
people ask me if i believe in reincarnation. I do but only for the living. i cant speak for or to the dead so i will leave that for a later time. a lot later time i sincerely hope. but the living can shape shift many many times in a lifetime you know that in your heart. i wont speak personally about the places i have been reborn into but miles davis did it in his life and his music. he began playing classical music and was considered a born horn player in that world. but then in his teens he moved with all diligent speed toward jazz. yeah the dizzie g phase was a blast but then he just kept moving into bop and invented whole schools of jazz all by himself. then as fast as lightswitch he stopped playing divorced his wife…
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let your soul spirit fly
the way wind blows through our mind. i feel the tension of my body slowly leaving me. it is all right. it really is you know. on the other side freedom is not fleeting. it is a permanent state you know. dont ya know.
the ache
of every past storm…
winter weeds
innocent when you dream
i dream very little. at least i think that is true. who can really tell. if you wake with a warm and happy feeling was it the result of a deep dream or are you just thrilled to have checked the box for one more morning. sunlight through the blinds in our bedroom always seems welcoming. i believe it is the closest we can come to resurrection.
snowy trail
i see my footprint
in front of me
my stories
getting better and better
four fingers of scotch
daring me
to follow it……
jazz riff
pressing my luck
my hand in the hand
of my granddaughter
dead beats
every child of the sixties loved kerouac but wanted to be gary snyder or maybe lew welsh. kerouac lived with his mother. hell we all wanted out of our parents house. me. oh i loved lew welsh. until he committed sucide (allegedly since they never found the body but the gun was missing and he left a note). anyway your gods all have to die. it is a rule.
leaving
myself behind
sleep walking
in my
dreams
flies and buddhas
i love hanging out. just being. people are a great species. all of us. we kill the flies and ignore the buddhas. why you ask. because we are stuck in the web of finding ‘ourselves’. the flies must die. and buddhas must leave their bodies to be rid of US. and now i have to leave to write the poem at the end of this haibun. bye.
open window
the soul of buddha
follows the fly