8 Haiku

Cursing a fly who
won’t leave through the opening
I make in the screen

The golden hour—

a drunken man on the train 
mutters to himself

Sunday night’s full moon

gleams white in the chilly air—
laughing partiers

*

Speeding over roofs

on a train after sunrise—
the redheaded trees

Silhouettes of two

socks in a shaded window—
walking in the rain

Stain of a shadow

on a sunlit red brick wall—
big curly tree head

*

A cello swelling
in the fluorescent belly
of a train station

For George Carlin:

Earth suddenly shrugs

Man off its back, thanking us
for all the plastic



.

Hey Big Eyes

Hey Big Eyes you spy the prize and realize
This paradise is not so nice—don’t seem surprised!
What do you do? They’ll tell you to see just it through
Play it cool and pay your dues—no way you’ll lose

Just remembering them

You can see it again

Remember friend so many men have seen the sham

It’s old as man—forget it and it’s here again
I don’t know the way to go but I am sure
Other men have also been where I am

Just remembering them

You can see it again

(Those shadows creeping all around your door

 Oh how long can they remain
 To stain what keeps you keeping on?
 Will they ever be gone?)

One night I’d been in the wind and saw something

A crackling wire sparkling light into the sky
The sparks joining the stars up there in heaven then
A crackling wire sparkling light one winter night

Just remembering them

You can see it again



.

Flashes 23

Addressing
oneself
as “my friend”

Meditation  =  not

forcing my mind
into areas

You can

only control
you

*

Singing

is his
yoga

Did the driver

just announce this stop
as “Run Of Jewels”?

His

deliberate
shoes

*

“I don’t want

fame—I want
to get down!”

Tattoos:

illusions
of permanence

Pretty girl

with soupy
eyes

*

Pricing
everything
out of reach

They haven’t discovered

what matters
yet

Thrills that are never
as good as you
thought they would be



.

8 Haiku

Out of a shadow
cat crosses a lamp-lit street
into a shadow

Against foggy skies—

little dog white, she in blue,
and the poop bag green

Shadows of the ferns

waving to the breezy ferns
from a train’s window

*

Grey sea and grey sky—

a calligraphy of gulls
rippling in the wind

Pretty little cat

eyeing me as she prances,
leads me to her dish

Crackling transformers

on telephone poles toss sparks
into starry skies

*

Efforts of these gulls
flapping against a weak breeze—
autumn afternoon

Crescent moon lying

on its back like a rowboat
in a starry sea



.

Can't Reach You There

I’m going away
I’m going away
This place has got me beat
You know I just can’t stay
It’s all a big mistake
I’ve got to get away

I’m not the man

I’m not the man
Who can just fit right in
To their little plan
And when they know that I can’t
I’m on the run again

I’m in the way

I’m in the way
And they’ve got a job to do
That’s what they say
They made the place strict and straight
And aim to keep it that way

They’ve drawn the line

They’ve drawn the line
There’s nothing that I can do
To ever change their minds
I’ll slip away in the night
And leave them all behind

And so I go

And so I go
If you’ve ever felt like me
Then I know you know
And sometimes when we meet
I feel like I’m home

But friend beware

They’re everywhere
They’d chase you out of your skin
On a whim I swear
Where’s the love you keep way down deep?
They can’t reach you there



.

9 Haiku

Biking before dawn—
scratching of a dry leaf blown
across the asphalt

Dawn: climbing the stairs

out of the subway station—
giant harvest moon!

Warm evening churchbells—

in the back of a pickup
a man is napping

*

Morning commuters—

squatting on a power line,
raven cleans his feet

A puff of milkweed

climbing the noon sky—small
as an airplane, then gone

Parrots shriek at dusk

from their hotel courtyard cage—
my wine’s rather sour

*

Beware the black foot

of an ant on a mountain
many miles away

Religious statue—

crouched on one knee, searching high
heaven for a god

Trying to escape

the harsh light, in the cool grove
we seek the sunshine



.

He Said Get In

A man of rank nods at a cannon
And then he … heavily
Says “Get in”

A ragged gang gathered behind him

Angrily … yells at me
“WE WILL WIN”

Oh it’s a bad bad crowd I know

A stunned girl clutches a tabloid

Nods her head … at what she read and says
“Do you know?”

Her mother standing beside her

Lifts her eyes … to the sky and cries
“NO NO NO”

Oh there’s no way out I know

An old man gestures around him

“See for yourself … all this wealth …
Empty air”

And then I hear bird sing

Liquidly … into me
From somewhere

Oh this I know I know

.

17 Haiku

The palm tree unfurls
a new leaf—the finest silk
a bride could dream of

Summer brushstroke clouds—

as if our breath left traces
in the morning sky

Marigold heads bow

soaked from the brief morning rain—
I take a deep breath

*

Sleepy grey morning— 

sparrows burst through the plaza—
berserk car alarm!

Cool dusk in August—

smoke and plum marmalade smells
float in the garden

A summer night sky

suddenly ablaze with fire
of an angry god

*

Slowly sipping wine,

watching the sun change to shade,
and then back again

A single red rose

stands stark next to bleached grasses—
a late summer bloom

The healthy-tanned girl

in a breezy summer dress
has a broken arm

*

All over the town,

pink lilies perched on bare stems—
has it been a year?

Congress of small birds

assembled on wires above—
such robust debate!

Birds lined in three rows—

black dots and empty spaces
like some foreign script

*

Black-hooded young man

waiting for the light to change—
signpost for a spine

Last days of summer—

like a gentle reminder,
scent of decayed leaves

X-winged dragonfly

carousing the summer breeze—
giddy arcs and swerves

*

Walking in silence—
grey light and beads of warm fog
caress my bare arms

Wisp of crescent moon

nestled in the blue noon sky—
what was my hurry?




.

Flashes 22

A Hercules
of one’s
responsibilities

So sober so

sweetly
sad

All of it

was preparation
for now

*

Minds crowded
with overexcited
banalities

Generosity:

empathy
in action

Zoos

make me
sad

*

So

easily
amazed

These suns

keep arriving
faster and faster

When you’re vehement

you’re probably
wrong



.

7 Haiku

Dawn in the village—
is that laughing cock insane
or strangely knowing?

Morning: red-eyed horse

nibbling a patch of dry grass
while she watches me

A lakeside village—

dogs yapping at the horses
who strayed in their yard

*

Clouds of gnats at dusk—
from the restaurant chimney
smoke floats toward the pines

These handsome faces—

nice decorations on a
rather sad journey

Under slow dawn skies

the banging of a hammer
from a building’s husk

*

Dust-covered bottles

beside rusty railroad tracks—
how fare the drinkers?



.

Skeleton Key

You know they’ll beat you
And you know they’ll fall
Bluffing and cheating
Their way through it all

A lonely leader

Laughing lost on his way
Drunk and dreaming
Of a victory

Does he know

That he’s beat in the end
And may never get a chance to ever
See it again?

What is shown

Through a chink in the fence?
And if he glimpsed it would it make a
Difference to him?

The feast is eaten

And the bones picked clean
But down down deep we’re all
Hungry indeed

A ghost is creeping

It shivers with need
A devil of a fellow holds a
Skeleton key

And he knows

Just what you want
But when you try to grab it then it’s
Nothing but gone

And you know

That you’re beaten again
Tempted into thinking this was
Different

The wind is blowing

Through a terrible street
You’re standing on a corner
And you’re thin and you’re weak

But something’s glowing

In back of your brain
The flower of a fire is
Unfolding again

And you know

The world is a lie
Invented by some people who don’t
Care if you die

And you know

You’ve got the right
To fight for your life every
Day you’re alive

You’ve got to know…

.

8 Haiku

Sunrise: two ravens
dig through a plastic trash bin—
hard clacking claw steps

White-tiled station walls—

a Mexican musician’s
mournful nasal song

from One Bird One Stone:

Epitaph: Here lies

a dead red robin, waiting
to become a rose

*

Crushed on the sidewalk
and raided by busy ants—
sky-blue robin’s egg

The sputtering start

of a sprinkler at sunrise—
a door opening

On steep sandy slopes

“Subject To Reservation”
lone picnic tables

*

Cutting overgrown
vines of nasturtium I find
an empty bird’s nest

The crouching blackbirds
deathly still on the footpath
explode into flight

.

Always Were

From the start we are taught
That things are falling apart
Always were

Someone fumbled the spark

That’s why we’re lost in the dark
Always were


All the love we forsake
Trumps all the love we can make
Always will

Every moment we curse
Makes our next turn for the worse
Always will


So much sorrow my friend
We either break or we bend
Always do

Yet we get to the end

And then we do it again
Always do



.

Flashes 21

Juicy Juice—
with ten
percent juice!

Reassembling

oneself
in silence

Building energy

for unknown

needs

*

 
Missed train—
that ain’t
my fate

An ambassador

of some
soulfulness

“Good morning,

Mister
Malario!”

*

Dishes

    =
Dharma

Tantalizing

ourselves
with fantasies

Birds

fly
and sing!

*

Souls who chase
that burning
ache

Lots of great things

about this place—
mostly incidental

She looks like

she likes
Las Vegas

*

To want to do

exactly
what you’re doing

He feels the tug

of the Earth
when he sees her

They’re

all
us!



.

9 Haiku

Staring unblinking
at spaces between faces—
old man on the bus

A small hatless man

with his hands crammed in his coat
walking in the wind

Faces red as wine

they drink in stiff-collared shirts
in the noisy bar

*

Thousand mirror ball

shines on the wooden floor—
waiting for the dance

Soft dry clonking tones

of some ancient bamboo chimes
dancing in the wind

Two stout little birds

twittering at each other
on a windy wire

*

A lone puff of cloud
changing faces as it roams
an empty Spring sky

The steel rails hissing

after the train rolls away—
I start my walk home

All this artistry

carves beautiful curlicues
in the shifting wind



.

What Happened

I could have been struck by a truck,
or shot by a broke broken man
hungry for more than my money—

the point is I died,

right there on the downtown street
of people passing people.

I wasn’t me.

I became the mind that makes us see.
I was free—

free of that bloody body

sprawled on the sidewalk,
free to float

in and out of minds

of people who were there.
Some fought me.

A woman chanted a prayer

to deliver her from evil.
A man told himself

Be tough! The world’s rough!

Don’t be a sissy!
You gotta do this, man!

Children didn’t notice me.
It’s like I fit right in.
One man grinned

a grateful smile

with glowing eyes like skies—

I’d died.

.

12 Haiku

Racketing turnstile—
trailed by a cloud of perfume
she chases her train

A wandering blur

of fog snuggles the houses—
walking home at night


Tree like broccoli
calm in the afternoon shade—
breathing in the Spring

*

Winter: just unpacked
my bag at my parents’ house—
palpable silence

Wake to a white world—

as if while I was dreaming
everything changed

Before dawn: blackbird

perched on a sleepy house top—
wavy, watery voice

*

The creaking tree limbs

sound strained in the big winds—
an ocean blowing

One more stop before

I have to get off this bus—
winds bending the trees

Tinkling metal chimes

repeating in the big winds—
heads of swaying trees

*

Spring: heavy breathing
on a bike before sunrise—
symphony of birds

The streets before dawn—

waters under sidewalks slur,
wires buzz above

My early bedtime—

gaping sky fills the window
this late Spring evening



.

Going Down

In all the people you see
You see it
What went wrong?

Something keen in the breeze

Keeps blowing strong
On and on

It’s going down
Going down

Every time there’s an

Open moment
It gets through

Chances ask you to dance

With what you knew
What do you do?

It’s going down

Going down

(I’ve been dreaming all my life

I’ve been fighting all the time)

It’s going down

Going down

Every time that I see
Our star drown
In the night

I can never forget

That it will rise
One more time

It’s going down

Going down



.

Blessed With Rainy Days

I’m so slowly seeing
The way I’m bound to find
Feels so righteous
Like I might just
Leave the past behind

Walking away

Led me to this place
So I go
Now I know
I’ve been blessed with rainy days

I have been a lonesome

Reckless drifting man
Who has come to
See there’s something
Else to understand

Walking away

Led me to this place
So I go
Now I know
I’ve been blessed with rainy days

(Always in motion

Dreaming where it leads
Didn’t like it
Always had to leave)

All those winds that gripped me

I swore were a curse
But they were steering
Me clear of
A course that was much worse!

Those lonely days

Were my saving grace
They made me see
What I needed
Now I’m seeking
What I need and
It’s here as clear as rain



.

9 Haiku

From white-bearing trees
the snow falls a second time—
sun climbing the east

Diving flight above

then bash! hawk hits a treeside—
just missed that squirrel

The houses and trees

made vague by this morning’s fog—
a world of slow ghosts

*

Alone under clouds

swollen with rain before dawn—
raven’s rasping laugh

Pigeon’s gulping moan

somewhere over the dark streets—
cold fog before dawn

Gull with chickenbone

sails shrieking over the lot—
chased by his brothers

*

Purple-faced clouds brood
on a low gash of twilight—
can’t look at the book

Gulls circle and screech

above a bare parking lot—
dusky pink morning

Spring sun appears and

retreats and appears again—
sky full of birdsong



.

Being Here

I just sat still
And in and out I breathed

I did not care

About stuff in magazines

An image of myself

Blurred and faceless glowed

Looking back at me

From a dark window



.

Flashes 20

A flea fart
is mightier
than art

A star

rots in
a palace

This blues

got ooga-
booga!

*

To know

how lucky you are
is enlightenment

Jazz musicians

of human relations—
improvising always

They’ll do anything to prove

they’re not the bad guy—
except not be the bad guy

*

Shoot

him in
the rifle!

No substitute

for paying
attention

“I know you’re

following Buddha
with that bald head!”

*

Fame

is
hype



.

9 Haiku

The growing approach
of a train I can’t yet see—
distant whisperer

Two women smearing

lotion gossip on the train—
faces, arms and hands

Wary of poop on

the beach I see angel’s feet—
little child’s footprints

*

Under a full moon
shadows of bare branches mesh
on the frosty lawn

Nothing but sky through

the train’s windows as it leans
through a long slow turn

Red cottage under

a giant wall of storm clouds—
a birdless stillness

*

A fluttering ghost

in the darkened train window—
newspaper pages

Three hawks circle slow

in the empty blue above
a scurrying world

 “In any case, the moon”—Jack Kerouac

Blue afternoon moon—

“illuminated clay ball”
bright as any eye!



.

Wherever You May Be

Why don’t you blow down south little birdie?
Winter is drawing near
Your brothers and sisters left in a hurry
Nothing is holding you here

It’s the right time … to ride on the wind

Just spread your wings and glide
Take it down south … hitchhike it in
Get off when you arrive
Get off when you arrive

Swimming the wind up over the city

Snug in the breast of the air
The city at night is glittering pretty
Looking much better from there

While you fly high … up in the sky

You’re blessed to be a bird
You got the right to ride ... the wind in the night
Far above the world
Far above the world

It’s lovely to see you do what you need to

God you’ve got such style!
Once you can see it nothing’s a secret
Been waiting right there all the while

And you go so … gentle and sure

Wherever you may be
As if you knew you’ve … been here before
Wherever you may be
Wherever you may be



.

20 Haiku

Sudden razzmatazz
at my ear from a stray fly’s
rusty trumpeting

Morning after rain—

a big blank silvery sky
like a movie screen

My head in the bed

glows bald in a dark window—
where it all goes on

*

The sky’s like a child—

full of goofy faces and
slow sudden changes

Rust patch on a yellow pipe cap:

Big buxom woman

blowing her harmonica
under blazing sun

Little white-haired man
limping uphill and pushing
an old bicycle

*

Tattered flag droops from

its pole at the post office,
swishes in the wind

Happy my belly

is purring so warmly all
merry morning long!

Cold clear winter dawn—

downtown buildings with sun fire
glowing on the glass

*

Strands of dry cheese like
broken Chinese characters—
late dinner table

A frog with flowers

exploding out of his head—
courtyard ceramic

Leaves like golden moths

riding a slant in the wind—
old hotel window

*

In silence—as if

without moving I might catch
my runaround life

In bed with the flu,

feeling my life leak away—
drear January

Standing close, two men

smoke and talk in the cold park—
two clouds between them

*

The pink-blushing sky

above a dirty shipyard—
smudge of winter dawn

Crescent moon grins down

as the glowing world begins—
sun climbing the east

Long islands of clouds

with salmon-colored bellies—
peeking cold sunrise

*

Dusk: paused on a path,

staring at the boiling tides—
two men’s silhouettes

Dusk: trio of gulls

huddled on a slick sand patch—
dispersed by the tide



.

The Ride

I’ve been ... gliding along on the tide
I’ve been ... thinking my life is a ride

I’ve been ... pushed by the wind through the rain
I’ve been ... feeling it happen again

And it makes me want to say

Hey now brother how

You been getting by?
You been enjoying the ride?

While we’re flying right

Through our time we might
Find that we’ve arrived
On the other side

I fly ... fly like blur down the line

I spend … most of my life in my mind

That’s why I’ve got to say

Hey now brother how

You been getting by?
You been enjoying the ride?

While we’re flying right

Through our lives we might
Find that we’ve arrived
On the other side

I’ve been … gliding along on the tide
I’ve been … thinking my life is a ride



.