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

butterfly/and hummingbird–/after the same flower (and my other flower haiku at Sketchbook)

monarch butterfly courtesy of wikicommons

and hummingbird—
after the same flower

will I ever see
your face?

the longing begins
at moonrise

cherry blossoms
shedding in the moonlight—
the Milky Way

my first kiss

salmon berry blossom:
how deep is your heart
for a hummingbird?

Published in haiku thread,Sketchbook April-May 2011 (kigo: flower)


June 3, 2011 Posted by | haiku, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Masquerade (for one shot Wednesday)

On stubbly grass unthinking on my heels, I crush a pair
of yellow dots here on a nameless hill-rise where
spark these fallen stars—

Thumb-sized faces, touching shyness, such subterfuge for such
malicious growth: these weeds whose birth in helium
augur choking death to promises of
rose-lipped tulips and such

or nodding daffodils and flare-collared narcissus. But my pupils
to its petals the dandelion-look cannot but inveigle, openness
its sheath of innocence so unlike
the earnestness

ivy creepers throttle a birch or the blatant avarice a herd of agile paws
and furry tails sidestep my indifference, trembling to un-husk
a single nut, pointed jaws nibbling time—no
pretenses there. Masquerades

I would rather find, disguises to my own guises—the sun-gazing
adoring face-thrusting-trust dandelions pose on a universe
of pupils, mine for one but not mine, whose malevolent
leaps spring from

fear. I, who face no fear of thwarted rebirths from tumescent bulbs
or such other spurts of life I could cause, see no power in these
weeds I now half bend to gaze at as if loving them
flowering, relishing

the sound of their name. These weeds, are they perhaps a kin
to Leo, the constellation the overbearing sun
rules? Could they be remnants of colliding
stars, battling their way

as if certain a center lay in the black void and bursting, littered
a blue dot where on patches, this hill-rise for one, struck
a bed for them to mutate and transmogrify? If
they were

I need not wonder then why they deserve such spite—rolling as
weeds these minute suns in masquerade, I know as
I know what I am.

I am posting this poem for One Shot Wednesday at the One Stop Poetry blog.
Join us – throw in your verses. Here are the rules (taken directly off their blog):
1. Write a poetic piece & post it on your blog
2. Then let us know about your post. Link back to One Shot
3. Sign up in the Mr Linky list, linking directly to your post, AFTER you’ve posted it.
4. Go visit others who have signed up! Offer support & encouragement. Share your love of words and insight respectfully. Please try to visit as many participating poets as you can. We all could use and appreciate kind feedback.

December 22, 2010 Posted by | free verse, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments