The Good of Night

Tonight the stars are sleeping.

They fold their hands

and bend their bands

given to unconscious weeping. 

The orange moon mourns. 

Hard created craters,

warm light abaters,

fill with a shadow shorn. 

Owls and howls are wordless.

Holding in breath,

waiting out death.

The iced air is mirthless. 

Yet the sun will rise tomorrow. 

The dregs tonight,

the bitter fight,

will be relieved of their sorrow.

Dark will be wretched away. 

Drudging swarms

and bitter forms

will all be allayed. 

Thank You for the darkness of night. 

Dance and songs

can be in throngs

with the smallest hope of Your light.

Thanks to Joanna and Barbara for this Saturday's inspiration.

Romance Haikus

Holds the towered flag

Waits for the beginning flare

Hopes the ship will see

Gladiator shows

She smiles for his effort

He wins for attempt

Dreams bright wood hidings

Pursuit through select smiles

Seduction to live

Laughter running chased

Tease fills adrenaline veins

The pursuit is hot

The game never ends

Limitless mysteries veiled

Each layer new joy

Break

This is how I break.

This is how I fall.

This is what it takes 

to break down this wall.

But my will gives out

before my strength. 

I look at how far I've come

and see no great length.

So I lose hope 

and I lack the will 

to even bother anymore 

for my efforts have been nil. 

And so I give up,

and so I give in

to being ruled

by self and sin. 

I feel the crunch of my bones

and the pain in the sound,

but easier than falling 

is staying on the ground.

My hope is gone. 

My will is shattered

after trying to fight 

and being brutally battered. 

What I lack is heart

not the strength or the might, 

but willingness to go on

in a losing fight.

And so I fall through, 

just as in weeping. 

Like tears through my hands

my heart is seeping.

Hunt of the Octopus

Deep hungered legs reach,

spread in all directions.

Strange fish saunters by

brandished for inspection.

Suckers pucker and pull back. 

Two legs chewed from the prior bites.

Tiny synapses fire and land,

Warn against all appetites. 

The water pulses in and out.

Strange slithers and sways.

The gleam tempts arms to stretch

they hold in the cold and stay. 

Still stubbed tentacles ponder,

the wonder strikes feared bites.

Strange turns and eyes connect.

Two beats of two hearts quiet the night.

Strange slips a silt fin to touch

a baby stub tenderly as it retracts.

A drip of salt water blends in the sea. 

The gaze tilts and neither reacts.

Water frames a cold chance forlorn.

The dance holds on ocean rugs.

Final chances tick and abate.

A risk, decision, a deadly hug.

Sick

I'm sick.

Sick like an oil spill.

Ill like my brain keeps miss fire ing.

Sore like I have an eagle stuck in my throat.

Impaired like I see two of me in the mirror.

Weak like it takes seven days to stand up straight.

Tottering like taters in a plastic basket.

Spinning like a CD vom it.

Delirious like a coke cane.

Coughin' like I'm about to be buried.

Achey like I'm trying to open a lock.

Disease like I'm floating in the ocean. 

Sweatering like I'm wearing wool.

Leaking brain lube like it s'not funny.

Like a vacuum eating a straw; sick sucks.

The Phoenix Son

You are the phoenix and I am in ashes.

Left bathing in your wake I sleep. 

My resist; futile slings and slashes.

Your song; gentle napalm seeped.

You have razed me to the ground. 

My lungs convey the flame's licks.

The sky is black under my mound. 

My cold blood and the fires mix.

Sparks glisten: stars through the night.

Your echo plumes carbon specks to listen.

My ears perk, hands clear debris from sight.

Droplets stride over my face; I am christened.

The fire You started melts into my dark.

Heat waves past my heart and catches.

Burned bones roar and hear the hark. 

Subtle lift pulls to my feet; undoes my latches.

New marrow pumps and sears my cracks.

Iron blends my chest and softens my heart.

Wings burst from blades on my back. 

I phoenix as did You and from ashes depart.

Christmas Haikus

Part 1

Shrimp wrapped in bacon

is one of our traditions

So I say, "Booya"

Santa give billions

Dollars are nothing to him

He's the one percent

Book gifts are for nerds

Christmas fills up reading lists

seventeen proves point

Cares fade to background

Whole family together

Jokes, smiles fill air

Torn paper burns bright

Snacks and coffee, daylong treats

The meal approaches

Part 2

Pooped cave filled with cries

Troff filled with greatest treasure

Scream fills world with hope

Bridge o'ver death is crossed

Angels sing of great collide

Peace pieces for all

Salvation is here

Love of God incarnate cries

Small blood will buy all

In our feet and hands

With our voice and sorrows still

Jesus reconciles

Humbled God in flesh

Torn from heaven to all pain

Love comes small to save

When All was Magic

Tiny pricks of light slice through the eternal dark. 

Eyes opening reverberate walls from their spark.

First time fingers stretch and pull tight the air. 

Legs squiggle, lungs drag, and the screams tear.

Fingered foods play in taste buds grasping bites.

Smells burn bright ideas and colors in cold nights.

Glowing movement brings smiled cries to song.

Bouncing in gravity, floor boards become gongs.

Incredible lights beam, colors form and change.

Giant hands hold: faces twist; become strange.

Everything crisps, crackles, sweet scents waft.

Thumping beats drum from titans warm and soft.

Falls shake and fracture into unpleasant surprise.

Knowing more than before, lights dim in the eyes.

Understoods are left alone, no reason to chew.

Everything was magic when everything was new.

Thanks to Ashes for the inspiration of "You can't beat magic."

Torn Heart

A gentle caress over my chest.

Soft fingers begin to press. 

Deep and quickly they pierce my skin 

and rip from my body my bones within.

Then, in such a fragile place, 

each hand competes to win the race.

Each grab one side of my frail heart

and begin to tear it apart.

One half do I long for, and the other I love, 

but can I have them both? Is this death from above? 

My heart is in pieces longing for her, 

but I cant have her yet, and inside me He stirs. 

Such passion, such beauty, and o what a death! 

I must find it now after my last breathe.

Troll of Desolate Refuse

Marks left in blind assimilation

herald your past quenching

and the tactless forethought

of hoarded conventions.

How, in this act of convenience,

canst thou leave me so interrupted?

The perils of the broken membrane 

that once held order in our compartment

now fill to the brim with empty vassals

clogging all our unity!

How now shall we pervade such tragic depths 

to once again become mended o'er such discrepancies?

Thou hast repeatedly destroy our silent bond

and burned our agreed sanctions in this treacherous gaze.

The stone silent presence that thou bestow 

irks my veins to enflamed yearnings of destruction.

Yet the bane of all is this:

such pillaged goods have proper placing

but even so thine refusal to bring any such order to our abode

consumes thine spirit and precludes reconciliation.

Now, Troll of Desolate Refuse, rectify thine crook'd ways

and get all those cups out of our bathroom.

Paths Untrod

Sift the sultry glance.

Playful stations pull 

at the separation of body and brain.

I wander down paths I'd never take,

but always want to.

The air burns thick

and the hormonal haze fogs mirrors

so I'll never have to look back.

So many partners in a ballroom I've never been to,

though I often perch the window sills.

Soft question marks twirl in dances I want to know,

but can't.

I mark floor patterns and mimic alone.

I'll go home soon to she that is me,

but not yet. 

Not while these graceful sashes ring in the air,

Not while their dance parades. 

Not until my hunger at the window is sated. 

The TV Took My Breath Away

The TV took my breath away and gave me happy feelings.

The monster came with his fist and gave me happy beatings.

O entertainment, I pay you for life, love and prosperity 

Only to find that the one gift you give is depravity.

You make me desert.

You burn my soul.

By numbing reality.

And leaving me null.

My body bashed and bleeding;

My fire dead to spark;

Sucking all my light away 

And giving me the dark.

I never held any control in controllers.

Not one life have I ever truly saved.

My body numbs and twitches out

In these fake olympic escapades.

You suck my life, 

Pale my skin, 

Glaze my eyes, 

Eat me thin.

Zombie glares stretch forth claws,

Chew my brain in dragon maws.

A tear rips down my slacked face

frozen in a flicker's embrace.

Desperate coffee fingers linger,

shake with vibrated explosions,

hush quiet the soul singer,

and never explore the oceans.

Yet I am a voluntary victim.

You smile at my chagrin.

I am the only reason

That you could ever win.

Though sick I seek the symptom.

The breath waves goodbye.

No dead would be jealous

and the living would only cry.

I must loosen my hands

to fend off this attack.

I let the TV take my breath away

and now I want it back.

The Desire of Other Half

Waiting.

Never half sating.

Wonder. 

Sighs; quiet thunder.

Wander.

An endless ponder.

Stutter.

Crave warmth and shutter.

Hoping.

Twisted in coping. 

Fighting.

Thrash for lightning.

Holding. 

Wish for the molding.

Listen.

Tears dry and glisten.

Longing.

Ear bursted thronging.

Singing.

Soul bled ringing.

Dancing.

One day romancing.

Stillness.

Sweet salve of illness.

Breathing.

Life lived deceiving.

Yearning.

Purged heart-longed burning

Fulfill.

Simply know, be still.

Last Minute Haikus

What time is it? Crap!

Run! Grab my, uh, coat? wallet!

Why won't the car start?!

Run through building

Run through grass, run to the car

Dead stop in traffic

Ninety per hour

Didn't know the speed limit

Sorry, officer

Another yellow light

Press gas, think I can make it

Oops, red light again

Finally home now

Barely enough time to write

Writer's block ensues

Last minute blogging

And no good inspiration

Equals bad haikus

Blue

Midnight, grass just below the knee.

Black moon and white stars.

Wind sifts through clothes

and leaves hungry.

The stars dance little rings;

salt on far off margaritas. 

Glistened drops drip off the nose

and all falls down.

A symphony plays

breaches lungs

and is shoved it out.

No more smiles.

An expanse wastes.

The chorus fades.

Deaf ears watch eyelid insides

and all the world cools.

Grins fall below the field

upside down and forgotten.

Hugs alone in silent sighs.

The night hangs blue.

Thanks to Aliya and Barbara for today's inspiration of "Blue."

The Pain of Decisions

I sit and wait, abated elation

finding station in the wagon tails

of trails yet to be perceived. 

After all path running is simple 

with one pimple to pop but the stop

drops if two tiny tyrannies buckle to knees

and unfactioned reactions 

don't always have a point on the compass. 

Which way when black is grey and white the same

and all earthly brain taming is slain with disdain 

in a parade of unknown cavalcades marching on either side

with starching pressed shirts and singing spurts of wisdom 

in a language you don't understand.

Forks in the road means commode pricing

is dicing and becoming a succumbed place 

you must face or trace back to slacked beginnings 

when your winnings are unknown and growing

to be times of slimed eyes trying to pulverize meaning

out of clay coated glasses.

But the mutt is the irony that these eyes and me 

find despairing and raring occasions for inflations

that curl burled fingers to lingering accidents

that prevent indignation and spark incineration

to the conflagration of deadly wrong choices 

voiced out of noise poised pansies that demand manly's 

to sees clear steering potholes in dueled paths to goals

that may kill everyone in the end.

The life and death of breath breathes in the last 

and final finally of death valley walkers;

the twin roots and stalkers that find 

the difference between golf and golfers is the pith 

listed in lederhosens chosen because of the look

as opposed to the smell. 

If everybody wins, then everyone loses the chooses. 

Journey of the New Birth Haikus

Tiny head fits palmed

bright grey eyes gleam in wonder

Nothing can scare yet

Feet cannot hold ground

Crying until squeezed to chest

Peace come from safety

Small fingers reach hand

Tight curls around one thick thumb

Old grin guides in dark

The mountain towers

Tools provided: map, foot light

Secret work of love

Lost climb, the fall tempts

Wisdom's voice for open ears

Strength for more than stone

Above sight peak looms

Chance's myth begins to reign

Storm brews against hope

Slip and fall to stone

Tears hide in the rain drops splash

Hand lifts to standing

Abandoned no child

Palm covers necessity

Fingers grown still reach

Ode to the Possum I Hit with My Car Yesternight

Last night, ah, yesternight, when first we met.

'Twas instant; our meeting and our parting. 

Thou fell swift from waddle to death and yet

I can see no time from start to smarting.

When once your grey pelt shone bright in my lights

you dropped from view into a dull "bum bum"

a heart's final circuit 'fore death's escort.

A smile caught in sight

frowned a speedy harbinger of your doom.

Thou had thine brain wracked of different sort.

O possum, thou thought may be in question,

but the irony of crossing the road

causes many jokes to form suggestion.

The attempt to play at death that thou showed

was a clever form of method acting.

However thine stakes have jabbed through thine heart.

All goals set and achievable for thee,

full engaged, reacting

yet  sadly now thou cannot play the part.

Thou paid breath to asphalt: too great a fee.

Now thine song will sing in heaven e'er long;

upside down from gates shone of pearls pale glow.

Bugs and creepy pleasants galore will throng

No more death to rob thee thine role to know.

All grief and sad breathe for me shall soon pass

as once did fall the light seen in thine eyes.

Long heart weeping and wondering will end 

as to life I hold fast.

Good night, good night, sweet friend with soft goodbyes;

With I glad for possum that God did send.

Dedicated to the Possum I hit on 12-8-11 on Cheatham Hill Road.

How Now Shall I Breathe

Lines cast in the fish parade 

brought home a white flagged ship. 

Tugs and nibbles at bait recent rotted

send the pale steam of surrender. 

The other avenue has thought of opening

but is cold and keeps the doors locked. 

This night street hangs in distant balance 

of star bright wonder and the chilled mystery.

But this white flagged ship,

ported after many pursuits,

bares its cards clean to table

and offers treaties of hope. 

Cards and chips held tight to the street.

Back alley gambles lure without promise.

The signs cannot be read without light. 

The adventure holds its hand ready. 

The one, warm welcoming,

the other uncharted and blinding.

And the world tilts its head and wonders, 

"How now shall I breathe?"

Cantaloup Can't Elope

CANTALOUPE. Will you marry me Cantaloupa? I know your parents hate me, but we don't have to tell anyone. 

CANTALOUPA. We cantaloupe can't elope, Cantaloupe!

CANTALOUPE. But my Aunt Antelope can elope cantaloupes, Cantaloupa!

CANTALOUPA. Antelopes eat cantaloups, Cantaloupe!

Your aunt antelope can't elope cantaloupes. 

We'll end up cantaloupes eloped in Aunt Antelope's throat! 

CANTALOUPE. Have hope, Cantaloupa! I know how we could escape! (pulls out rope)

CANTALOPA. What's that?

CANTALOUPE. It's a Tope Cantaloupe Aunt Antelope Loping Throat Slope Rope. Will you please let Aunt Antelope elope us, Cantaloupa?

CANTALOUPA. . . . Nope. 

Homonym Haikus

They bought a new Thair

But where is their Thair, in there?

They're there with their Thair

The new store opened

with merchandise you put on

its where wares wear wares

In a foreign land

I ate but it was chilly

with Chile's chili

It is Christmas time

the cat is out of the bag

Broke Claus's claws clause

Denial was fast 

The knowledge fumed a bad stench

so he knows nose noes. 

Blessings Rain

The cool night burns bright with fires. 

Lights shine swimming in their song. 

The chorus of the luminant pyres.

Glowed insect tweet their throng. 

The stars descend and swoop low.

Bright organs flutter and lilt. 

Cloudless wonders seep and flow.

A lighted rain falls and tilts.

No storm nor wind breathes here.

All is peace among the earth.

The wandered hearts are near. 

Dead to life, all is birthed.

Lights pour soft and strong.

Drying tears and lifting sighs.

Gleeful banters to all belong.

All the world has opened eyes. 

Glories in the highest reign. 

Woeful glances dissipate.

Folly has been slain. 

Open now is heaven's gate.

Water eternal flows down.

The bellow thrums throughout.

Loved in the blessings drown.

Warm in the quiet shout. 

Body, Mind, and Females

My mind and my body fight on e'ery occasion 

In which I meet one of the female persuasion. 

I think I could ask her out, perhaps to get a meal,

but my body walks the wrong direction and and create this ordeal:

"Must get away. Not good thing." my body says to my mind.

"Starting feel sick. Hit with brick. Must leave behind."

"But it might be nice. And it could be fun." My mind defends,

but my body is master of hearing and deafness it pretends.

"Quickly turn about my friend, she is now so far away."

"it for safety, my love, we must leave today."

And by this time it is to late for she has walk far out of sight.

And now again my mind will chastise my body late into the night.

A Fairy Christmas

It was a cold winter. The birds had left by the first of September. Now bearing on December eighth, there was little time to finish Christmas shopping. Navi, in his helpful fairy way, was quite proactive when it came to Christmas shopping. He had already sent out gifts to his distant friends and relations, magically sealed to prevent opening before the 25th, before many of them had even put up their Christmas trees. The real trouble was finding something for his dad.

Navi's father had always been hard to shop for. What do you buy an elder fairy that has everything? Magic could bring about most desires for a fairy that old and powerful. Even with Christmas just around the corner, Navi couldn't get a list or any one desired item out of father. No matter how many times he said, "Hey! Listen!" his father refused to hear. Navi's heart hung low this time of year; yet another time where he could not give a good gift to his father. 

But on Christmas eve, Navi noticed something strange about his father; he was shivering. This brutal winter was taking its toll even on such powerful fairies as his father. "Navi wants to know if you are feeling well, Navi's Father," Navi inquired. His father curled himself into a tighter ball, brightening his own light and said, "No, Navi's father is fine, Navi." Navi turned to exit and said, "Navi hopes Navi's Father feels better soon." So Navi left, still not knowing what his Father could need.

Navi thought about this predicament for a long time. When a fairy grows old it becomes weak to the cold. Navi loved his father so he decided to set out and find something to help comfort his father and solve his shivers. His Father was much too proud to admit he was old and cold. But though a fairies magic could produce light,  they could not produce heat. Therefore Navi needed to find a way to keep his father warm. 

Suddenly a brilliant stroke of genius struck Navi. He would give his father a wool coat! This would be something practical that his father actually needed. O joyous day! Navi's glistening light shot out and flew to the Hyrule Market. The journey took a long time and when he arrived the sun began to set. He went from stall to store to stall until he finally found the perfect, fairy-sized winter coat for his father. He was fairly certain it used to be a boy's hat, but that didn't matter now. All that mattered was that Navi would finally please his father. 

Navi practiced over and over again both his Giving Speech and his excuse for staying out all night on Christmas eve. There was no time to head home before the temperature had dropped to dangerous levels at night. Navi found a warm place to sleep in a street light, but his excitement wouldn't let him rest. With such a great gift, how could anyone chastise him now? 

As soon as the sun rose Navi began the journey home. It was just as his father had awakened that Navi returned. His father looked at him and said, "Navi has been gone a long time. Where has Navi been all the night?"

"Navi left to find you the perfect Christmas present so that we can be merry this day, Navi's Father." 

Smiling, Navi's father said, "You do not need to call me father, Navi. I am your dad. Let me be Dad to you. Now what is this gift you have brought me?"

Navi, his eyes aglow, excitedly pulled out the wool hat and gave it to his dad. 

Navi's dad rubbed the fabric softly and said, "What is this Navi? Is it made of denim?" His father, grinning brightly. 

"No." Navi beamed. 

"Is it  cotton?" 

"Nooooo."

"Then what is it made of, Navi?" 

"It's fleece, Navi's Dad!

An they lived happily ever after. Merry Christmas. 

It's Not Good to be Alone

Cut off a finger and leave it alone.

Soon you'll have not but dust and bone.

The ashes will gray and fade away.

Spread to void and lose the day.

Any puzzle piece all by itself

hides collecting dust on the shelf.

Cold and completely lost in junction

when lonely it  can serve no function.

A single paint streak is accident

to mark hidden places never meant.

Dried and chipped it falls and flails

but none can hear its weakened wail.

Every finger has a hand, every piece a puzzle.

every paint has friends to know and  nuzzle.

Anyone all alone is hiding, waiting for death

come out, open, commune, we will have breath.

Identity Haikus

A dog says meow

That does not make it a cat

Action is not self

If one falls it hurts

Does not become a faller

Is a walker still

Strawberries on sign

Yet bananas underneath

Words can't determine

What I think I am

A cat or a bird or frog

Is defined by sound

Creator spoke things

His word is the final say

He causes the truth

There is Cake at the End

Clap Clap Clap. 

A well done race.

Last place? 

Good Pace.

Turtle races win the accident prone. 

Just jog. 

Light trod.

Old bod. 

Run hot.

After all

the overall

is to move.

Still staying

Praying

muscle's stones

creaked bones,

dead If I ever saw one.

Well done.

Last place?

Good pace.

Race won. 

Cha cha is all in the feet.

Dance a party's worth all alone.

There you are

bright star,

shining solitude. 

Maybe not a great,

but a dancing dancer. 

There it is. 

You found it. 

Nice job.

Just head bob

and everyone will sing along. 

If they won't

Don't fret

bets all are in 

or all alone.

Shone the Shiner

and all will be tea

and cookies

and a back break of work

of pain

of falling 

and cake.

And the cake is good.

It Walks

It walks. 

It leans on the corner

and twists its head 'round the alley.

A small nail file sharpens teeth.  

Sandpaper songs float gently by the waste,

Silk shoelaces neatly tied,

Deep red fedora pulled over irises,

Death black coat eating the night.

The rain covers the distant street lights in a thin blanket. 

The mystery is finding its way. 

Left at the heartbeat, right by the sigh.

The allure stirs the breath in its lungs.

A tear dropped and it smiled.

Its hat grew bright and its coat hungrier.

Shoelaces pulled themselves tight.

teeth razored its lips.

The door opened and the shadows grew.

A lingering finger slipped the lock and broke it.

climbing the stairs it heard the sob

and approached the last door.

O Coffee: A Love Poem

O Coffee.

You sweet and succulent devil, you.

How young I was when you soaked your talons into me

and yet too old still.  

Coffee the first time we met you only let me see a subtle bite of you. 

You in your sleek black dress, 

tantalizing in your twisting steam.

O Coffee! 

At first I could not handle your bitter fumes

but when I sugar you up with sweet nothings,

when I mix a bit a white purity in your blood

O Coffee!

How can one even begin to ascribe how you are the fuel for the world.

You are the diesel below e'ry pilot's wings,

The envy of e'ry energy drink

the fuming rage that doth fire e'ry storm

O Coffee!

I would drinks pots and pots of you a day

just to see you walk away, 

with that seductive swish as you make your way down my gullet

O Coffee! 

From where do you come and to where do you go?

From fields of Columbia to the jungles of Africa;

There is nowhere where you are not exotic.

O Coffee! 

Roasted fresh your aroma is the cologne of life.

Should I whiff thee all my days 'twould be too few.

Even the sound of you, slow, selective, roasting churns my soul to revelry.

O Coffee!

Your grinding songs doth purge me from all fallacies.

Your black soul doth brighten my view.

Even an early morn is robbed of its mourning.

O Coffee!

Just to listen to the flaming drip.

The somber clock that needs no alarm

for it's wondrous song to be heard.

O Coffee!

E'ry day of my life I have seen thee

tasted thee, felt thee in my blood

And even decafinated you bring joy to e'ry morn.

O Coffee!

I have sipped you from my mother's womb

I have tasted thine glory all my waking days

and I shall dance with thee to mine grave.

O Coffee.

A Snow-Covered Room

Sometimes when I'm alone it snows inside.

The roof over head only holds in the clouds.

You think someone would learn to provide

something like a cloud vacuum, but not as loud.

It's cold when there's no one to lie with.

One string is a cord easily torn and broken. 

I sit on the couch with real potatoes for pith

and the food always cools and springs are pokin'.

The snow melts sometimes and I see a mess.

It runs down arm or my head or my leg.

But when it freezes again I get depressed;

for me to leave my games, you'd have to beg. 

It's hard to get out of bed covered in snow. 

The sun breaks windows and I cover my face.

If I don't look then I don't have to know. 

What I don't try and fail I can't disgrace.

Maybe one day the sun will come through. 

Sometime before I'm covered and drowned.

But what else can anybody say or do,

in a room covered with snow and frown.

Fall Haikus

Crisp air refreshing

We store up warmth: winter's bane 

Hope for snow and sun

Coco's steaming smile

Marshmallows sing soft

Veins and bones relax

Leaves pave the walkways

Potato chip walks comence

Winds throw confetti

Sun sleeps more and cools

Brighter beams permeate earth

Temperature Softens

Play streams in the streets

Games echo throughout child souls

Adventures remain