jornales

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

cackling

the measured widths we shrink into

talking in the darkness like late crickets heaving up a molehill

a cackle of office meniscus

summer drizzle a wet stone growing an ear

in a sonogram frog song

lollipops in the basket some promises un-swapped

war of the fishes stilled in a pitted clam shell

 

otata November 2017

February 28, 2018 Posted by | haiku, poetry, sequence, Uncategorized | , , , , , | Leave a comment

questions, your answer…a haiku series

winter silhouettes—

if blackened do nails

retell stories?

***

spiced wind

do snow tracks carry

your voice?

***

when banana hearts

peel off a lover, is it

the solstice?

***

lotus shadow…

is that frog song

a dirge?

***

tattered waves

why must keening tears

leap as an arc?

***

roaring wind

from what stone pod

do you rise?

***

sun dial

in the dark toasting

minions?

***

his arrhythmic heart

on a treadle…
does the weaver

know?

***

wild wind

on dry sedge—

what more 
in her mind?

***

spiraling down

as fish…is the ocean

my soul?

 

January 11, 2015 Posted by | haiku, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment