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Posts Tagged ‘haiku’

in my hands it broke
the spine of the book
with your name on it

*

fallen petals
this table where we were not
eating together

*

beneath the half moon
I breathe in darkness
what’s left is light

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three haiku

this living skin
a billboard
for god’s graffiti

*

milky way
in my hand
a spiral

*

stars beyond stars
all of us swathed
in stars

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in the downpour
no distance at all
between laughter and water

*

all mud
the boy asks me
hug?

*

your words
the moment leaps
its banks

*

incessant rain
these lips still
so thirsty

*

scent of rain,
want of rain, every poem
a praise poem

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every moment flees its own overflowing
—Karen Chamberlain, Ephedra

no birds wheel
in the air tonight—
wings in my song

*

swallowing darkness
in great gulps
a few stars catch in my teeth

*

I really thought
I knew something
about not knowing

*

gathering ephedra
my hands
are not my own hands

*

naked
I wear
a red dress

*

the night sky offered
to loan me its black skirt
hope it’s not too small

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soft thread of tune
beyond humming
still the attempt

*
though the musician
is long, long gone
strands of dark arpeggios
tucked
in my hair

*

because
he once played
that Bach prelude
I feel now so
beautiful

*

long after
the listening
still listening

*

almost like lips
bruised from a night of kissing
my ears this morning after

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balanced on a twig—
two blue dragonflies and
all that space between them

*

the story, calloused
and gnarled, inside it
red leaping blood

*

picking up the moon
like a telephone to dial
your number, of course

*

contemplating
dessert for
the Armageddon

*

opening a can
of worms to find
rose petals

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spinning on the tilt-a-whirl
scent of tomato leaves
still on my hands

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in the head, a clang,
gong, clash and bang, while in the yard
one bird chirps

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Pin Up Haiku

yellow butterfly
so beautiful, wings spread
so dead

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beside you
I am in late spring
all my petals
opening, quickly now,
no fear of frost

*

moss
that softens the rock—
your words

*

the mountain
also opens—
ask the sky

*

in the tall grass
a nest—
let’s meet there

*

before you find it
it finds you—
scent of wild rose

*

the world is, perhaps
drawn black and white—
still our blood so red

*

we both
orbit you,
the moon and I

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these big shoes
though they have long been mine
they still don’t fit

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wingless
but oh do I ever
know how to bend

*

the sun, perhaps,
or a stick—for the bug, always
a reason to sing

*

at the precipice
I did not yet know
I could fly

*

falling apart, falling
apart, each misshapen piece
perfect

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this heavy shell
I sometimes forget it, too
is holy

*

your eyes
everywhere I look
your eyes

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god needed a flute
tried blowing into me—no note
still too much of me here

*

it sure does make
a lousy guard dog
pride

*

every pore, every
bone, every hair, every cell
an altar

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your hand
even when you’re not here
it holds me

*

pearls inside her
luster
turns to flesh

*

this algal strand
same blueprint with a twist
this milky way

*

climbing the rungs
of myself, oh silly woman
still reaching

*

bliss
not the new green bud itself
but the noticing

*

laughing at me
all those angels
I never believed in

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in the tiny seed
the scent
of marigold

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moonless night
still I walk into
my shadow

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alongside the cliff
keeping pace with my car
the blue heron

*

flying blackbird
dead mouse in its beak
this too is peace

*

more wind
than woman
this flesh

*

midnight
even the whitest lilies
are blue

*

sharing breath
with the crow
the whole world is crow

*

in the nest,
two blue eggs
two wide brown eyes

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this moon, rising
like that other moon did
all those years ago

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empty room—
through the windows
river song

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no blooms—
still, through a round door
sweet scent of peonies

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