famous too long ago

one day i will get my fifteen minutes. i just hope i am not so high that all i do is babble about how it used to be. you know. back when i walked fifty miles through rain sleet and snow to get to wherever i was going. apples were sixty bucks apiece. and the aliens built temples to me when i was napoleon. pitiful is the base state of poets and i hate being trite (but what the hell).

dust mites in sunlight
living my future
in a flashback

wookiees have all the good lines

poetry is about writing the best lines. but the best poetry leaves the best parts to the reader.

no ink
in the quill
just impressions

faint as a will of the wisp

you sing to the moon if you want. me i just stare quietly. i live with the oaks and pines. so very often my view is broken by leaves and needles and just as quickly there it is again. if we had many moons like saturn would it be better or would we just get bored with all those choices. as it is our lonely moon often matches our moods. the light grows and fades and grows again. in the changeless verity of it all the moon unites us. i imagine all the lonely others looking up with me.

as i reach
the end of the path
my mind wanders

id rather not give you my name i am in politics

leaving both parties was easy. what to do next is the issue. thinking about it the only solution is to ‘write in’ johnny depp for every office in every election. i believe it is the only way to win in the game of elections. oh and every yard sign should be red white and blue.

prime minister
of another country
nothing but
questions

rubberband man

there is no credit limit on cash. if you have it you have it. and if you dont you dont. a wad of cash on the dresser and a diamond ring on my hand. it says what it says doesnt it.

judgment day
finding out
if it was worth the wait

a hitchhikers guide to haibun

ok. you have been reading haibun. i know because you are reading this one. magic eh. simply put there is a title that adds nothing until you get to the end. some prose that often is disguised as poetry. and then a wonderful haiku or senryu that either ties the whole of it together of just blows your mind. there you know all i know.

imagining
my death
choking on an apple

mysterious fog

fog is often discussed by poets as obscuring the view. but what i enjoy is what is reveals. if you understand fog you realize that what you cant see is still right there in front of you. fog demonstrates the real nature of existence. we see the stars in the sky. but we see almost nothing of them. as the poet archibald macleish penned in his play jb. are those the staring stars i see or only lights not meant for me. indeed it seems to me that what i cant see are the things that make life worth living. what is friendship if not a fog we cast over a relationship. it is the bond that allows us to overlook the ‘defects’ in the ‘others’ in our lives. i thank god for fog. all the good things in my life spring from it. join me in it will you…

i find more
and put my hand through it
fog

slippin into darkness

the big dipper is caught in the oak tree at the end of my driveway. no matter what happens i have the milky way to keep my soul from shrinking.

at a meeting
of free thinkers…
everyone talks at once

gonna blow a fifty amp fuse

there was a time when i thought leon trotsky was right as rain. we had an a&p store a couple blocks from my apartment and we went down to break out the windows once a week. as a first step we thought toward the revolution. it was a small store and the only one in the area for fresh fruit and pasta. two old italian ladies in the neighborhood caught us one night. they gave us a ration of shit for fucking with the only store they had nearby that carried all the old canned tomatoes and cheeses they needed. we explained that a&p was owned by huntington hartford and he supported nixon and the war. they seemed unconvinced but did not call the cops just told us never to do it again. our crew of revolutionists slunk away from those old ladies like a cat that just knocked over the vase. after that i hung out with mellow souls and became convinced it was better to be a peace loving freak instead.

slipshod
but still holding out the cold
the ill fitting door

a couple of years later i told the story to a friend. she slapped me hard on the head. it was sudden and i was taken totally by surprise. that is when she explained that huntington hartford did not own a&p for over a decade and he did not support nixon in sixty eight either and was no fan of the war. i had wasted my rage and soundly defeated some store windows that were not at war with anyone.

echoes
off empty walls
footsteps from the past

This video was created by Steve Hodge. He placed some of my favorite senryu into the video while he played Brubeck’s ‘Take Five’ himself in the background. I love it!