for a moment of joy or moments no one pays for, i give myself a ‘jornal’. this makes me rich. try it.

a rift in beveled dusk

(a parallel in fours–to be read from left to right or by column from top to bottom)

              a rift in beveled dusk  

            suddenly I recognize 

                                                the colour grieg                                      

             on wind slopes 

                                                 half grey half pallor

             lunes I once lost                                                                                     

                                                 now  gelling as clouds

           lolling with me in a puddle rim

                                   seeping off the rift  in swaths

                  my umbrella the faint mushroom sky 

December 29, 2020 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment


(one of my last poems at otata defunct since)

do foxes exist like we do?

thirst for what’s good like silence

sound fractures people’s heads

under cover of light

there’s iniquity dancing in the leaves

would fox howl if I whisper “I thirst for wind-drips”?

he draws his being up as if

there’s dawn in the guise of stalled words

digs the gloom

and cries leaving

purpled patches in my head…/otata-47

December 10, 2020 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

being there (a haibun)

being there…it is the rhythm that’s constant it seems and not the stillness—the way the wind pulls and withdraws and the way the leaves sway and retract or how the clouds gather into masses and then dissipate into air or is it merely the eye that misses the jagged movements and edges and catches merely that moment when the rhythm shows and reassures us as in the constancy of flowers even as petals begin to brown and curl in the edges and fall, stripping the branches of their name because all we recall is their being there as in moments we have flowed into still flow into like on our early morning walks when

shifting tides–

the river unloading burdens

for us to decode

LYNX XXVII:I February 2012

November 21, 2020 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

night fall (a sequence of one-line poems) and three single haiku at

Bones #21 Nov 15 2020

night fall  (a sequence) 


no one addresses darkness with due respect could be fear that pierces the eye


possibly only me in the bus siding with a squat ghost shushing roped shadows 


window framed mindless leaves burst on a breeze-storm grazing dust-coated rails 


up close whale clouds already crossing a night bridge day molting on a tail  


screeched brakes a baby’s howl rips the scrim maybe hunger just imagined 


roasted yam pressed garlic just guessing from the smell of a woman’s hair


scratching her ears probably over far off thoughts of an undressed chicken 

no one senses but still night falls hip-swinging on a scatter of desiccated seeds 


single haiku


un-deboned bent 

in adoration


tipped moon

in a saucer scanning

lost sonnets

November 16, 2020 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

word/s all I see in limbo

a sequence of one-line poems at:

my 2nd eChapbook at Bones Library

September 8, 2020 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

the bee and the flower (a cherita)

the bee and the flower

(short story in verse)


dawn again and still walled-in

no matter… the sun invades my bareness


in the wrinkled shade

a ruckus of leaves



could it be the wind

riffling nests sagging

on a day just hatched?


then the stillness

swift wings…


on the edge of dreams

not a songbird but a bee

dark on my  lids…

all I see as it circles

probing the scented air


then soft as breath

alights on a blossom


i blink

the bee sinks into

the flower’s pulsing center

like lips half-opened…

as petals strain to widen


and quiver on the beetle’s

deepening kisses


a colorless breeze pulls me back to the stillness

the blank walls of waiting



an ekphratic poem based

on a photo of a bee feasting on a dragon fruit flower lv 07/27/20 hh 07/27/20








July 31, 2020 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

5 one-line poems at UndertheBasho (UtB)

where creation begins and ends onion scales


smoke and grey hair grandfather’s syllables receding the hours


fraught trail the tightness of wild lace shadowless


unbecoming is the moon because of bruises?


shrunken between trumpeted lies and ripped drums the ageing boor



UndertheBasho one-line poem  2020 July 11


July 29, 2020 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

my ku at UndertheBasho (UtB)


tinted brow

recycled otherwise

if unaccompanied


moss rock

under one’s tongue

from howl to whine-y


if foliage stricken

pull down

a cloud


dripping leaf

from a comet

that’s it?


the language of




UndertheBasho ku 2020



July 29, 2020 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

My latest at Bones journal

Bones journal of contemporary haiku #20 July 15, 2020
absent spring
(one-line sequence in the time of the COVID-19)
where absent spring fans out even weeds breathe their last
in the lilac’s loosened breast a somersault of soughing winds
the swarm of maps random drizzle crafted a helpless tangle on blackberry thorns
scratch marks in the mist a tremor of hands the only sound
incense plumes that hurt the eyes spiraled sighs off sealed-in scorn
between weeping trees and shifting storms tautened strings
ocean roar but grief unclogging lungs of leaf litter with shards of sky
still creeping up sand hills void of spring an unfinished palette bleeds the tides
single haiku
ripped from rants
debates about Eden
blistered wall
the gutter drip
slime molds
does talk consume
the elements?
Profuse thanks to Johannes S.H. Berg, Editor

July 16, 2020 Posted by | Uncategorized | 1 Comment

my haiku at Haiku 2020, the Modern Haiku Anthology

Just announced now available Haiku 2020, the Modern Haiku Anthology of 100 notable haiku from 2019 selected by editors Lee Gurga and Scott Metz of the award-winning Haiku 21 with an introductory essay by Richard Gilbert, author of The Disjunctive Dragonfly.

Pleased to have a haiku, my second (my first was in the 2014 anthology) in this one, too, as follows:


the pond

I lied to

first published in UndertheBasho ku,  June 19,2019 




Note: profuse thanks to Lee Gurga and Scott Metz and especially to Johannes S.H. Berg, editor who picked both published haiku.


July 5, 2020 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment