Writings by Thomas Radwick. Mostly poetry and lyrics. t_radwick@yahoo.com

8 Haiku

Embrace of sunrise!
Train bursting from a tunnel
doesn’t seem to groan

Walking in the wake
of his sweet leafy pipe smoke
under lead grey skies

Lying beneath stars—
why do I find the airplanes
most fascinating?

*

Before dawn: champagne
moon over a hissing sea—
cars seem to whisper

Humorless highrise
defying the sky with its
angularity

Under bold spring sun
feeling sweetness in each step
hearing the trees breathe

*

He asks me the time,
finger-thick streak of dried blood
under his cheekbone

Chasing the gleaming
twin lines of the tracks, this train
has no conductor!



.

Flashes 26

What’s
required
is kindness

Americans at leisure:
just resting up
to go psycho!

A style
supported by
insupportables

*

City streets scenes—
reminding you so forcibly
of the failure of the world

Don’t
kill yourself
over stupid shit

The greatest
gift is
calmly sitting still

*

I’m not afraid
of the sadness of life,
he thought as he entered the bar

If you’re going full throttle
about something all the time
you will crash badly

The courage
to look the other guy in the eye
and smile

*

“I’m an actor alright—
but only when I’m
kidding around!”

The start of the journey
was only a pretext
for something unseen

I hate this age
I’m a rebel
of time!

*

It seems like
a silly ruse
all of it

That star
up there
is helping me

Playing golden music
in the golden butter sun
and realizing it’s my birthday

*

“This ale
tastes like
a copper penny!”

They live a mean life—
so that you can live
in a hothouse

At leisure in public—
and not having
to talk!

*

“It’s hard
being young—
I didn’t like it!”

When fame came
he was already
tired

 “When I’m not living in
a delusional fantasy world
I get very depressed!”

*

Be
Here
Buddha

Don’t
envy him
his woman

Too much
toughness
is death



.

10 Haiku

Drenched streets before dawn—
hard rain popping underfoot,
everything gleaming

Under a street lamp
he keeps thrashing and punching
a foe who’s not there

Tiny black bird’s song—
like squirting silver liquid
in the sunny air

*

Old men turn into
babies and laugh in these clouds
that keep drifting past

A smiling toad’s face
of clouds in the wind-torn sky—
platinum twilight

Cigarette model
free from his billboard era—
now a puff of cloud

*

Tonight’s drooling rain—
as if the roof of heaven
had ten thousand leaks!

She’s tracing her eyes
with a pencil stub on this
bumpy speeding train!

Rushing water sound
of wind in trees and traffic
hurrying homeward

*

The late plum blossoms
pink against a stormy sky
look like fleeing birds

 
—Thanks to CJK



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Crack in the Ceiling

Poetry by Thomas Radwick

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