listen carefully
to the sound of the great bell
before being struck
cat stares at Buddha
pigeons flock to ignore him
people see nothing
there is no city
inside the large gate, only
Buddha and pigeons
Haiku
詩
The Japanese invented
haiku certain that a painting
of great beauty could
be completed with only
a few strokes of the brush.
The Japanese have no word
for what we claim is higher
order poetry, academic and
pedantic are two other English
words which easily apply.
And the Japanese are hard put
to comprehend so much of what
we deem experimental, the result,
a friend named Yoshi said,
of what seems the odd scraps
of a dictionary torn apart
by an unexpected tornado.
In Tokyo every tree knows
that at least four
poems lie within it, each
awaiting the appropriate
season.
HAIKU
I picked up a book
off the shelf this morning
one hundred haiku
it was like sitting down
a word starved man, tired
of searching for an always
denied sustenance, and here
laid out before me, a repast
of the sweetest grapes,
bits of sugar caressing
a tongue grown used
to the often bitterness
of ill-considered prose.
As midday approached
I knew that this was a meal
to which I’d return.
HAIKU
The small house fly has
no arachnophobia
only once in life.
In the Norway Spruce
pine cones threaten to descend.
Squirrels sit waiting.
In the sunlit park
the small dog watches the man
go fetch the thrown ball
Maple leaves emerge
almost certain that winter
is now history
A rain of petals
cherry snow covers the ground
we await the fruit.
BASHO, REDUX
This poem was recently published in the first issue of a new journal, Punt Volat. You can find it here:
https://puntvolatlit.com/issues/winter-2019
If Basho were here today,
in this America, at this time,
stop briefly and consider what
he might write, how he would
describe the faces of parents
mourning children gunned down
in random urban violence,
the asylum seeker, praying
at the border for entry, for hope,
the homeless woman curled
in a ball in her cardboard home
in an alley no one visits, no one
sees even in the full light of day,
the school children practicing
active shooter drills, while
learning to recite the alphabet.
sitting zazen, I
see one thousand cranes crying.
Their river bathes me.
SUMMER SONGS
the dangling green orbs
hang beneath the verdant leaves
dreaming of summer.
sweat rolls down my back
the noon sun stares angrily
forgotten winter
evening sky darkens
is it the approach of night
or simple summer rain?
EVER SO BRIEFLY (3 HAIKU)
listen carefully
to the sound of the great bell
before being struck
cat stares at Buddha
pigeons flock to ignore him
people see nothing
there is no city
inside the large gate, only
Buddha and pigeons
TWO HAIKU
the morning dew smiles
the rising sun stares deeply
later a merger
the egret stands fixed
wishing he was a statue
the rippling pond laughs
COSMOS HAIKU II
On this night the moon
should be new or full, the sun
should reflect on this
More than a billion
stars will fill the sky tonight
I see just a few
Evening clouds gather
staring down on the city
imagining rain
COSMOS HAIKU I
I called to the moon
and it refused to answer.
I bless the silence.
A galaxy born
Spirals through space while we, here
see only our sun
Deep within my mind
a new universe is born
as an old one dies.
