AlexandrosStood back from the crowd slightly, a lightface amidst the many in the acropolis, his gazecaptures mine. Fine features alight, he is a flame brightin the summer sun, my greater half. The myriad waysthe mind plays over the less than gentle graspof his fingers entwined with mine consumes me. Daysare lost to the pleasure of his presence, his body mappedand charted by my hands—not for conquest's sake,but to know the certainty of companionship at its core.The world is to be conquered, but the heart, a mazeto rediscover again and again, a mutable space to explorethe very breadth of closeness that inclines him to stay.Although I've conquered much within my reach,without him at my side, the world is incomplete.
spring moonunder a spring moonlovers experiencefireworks
WonderWhen the parade arrives he is entranced, a child,fearless, with light shining in his eyes. At first,I am skeptical—embarrassed at the offbeatclapping, uneven dancing—but rhythmaside, his wonder comes alive, a smile brightafter being buried under pursed lips for fartoo long a time. Hardly fearless, I dance too,starting uneven until I wonder why I worriedto the point of wandering from happiness.
a trip to disneylandpushing upstreamagainst the currentof peoplespring afternoonspent fishingfor complimentswaterfallon my shoulderspilled drinkdrowningat the water fountainto save moneyanticipationwaiting 90 minutesfor the ride to breakshimmering birdtakes flight—a child's balloonbiathlon:long-distance walkto drive home
CleaningFocusing on the big picture isnot one of my strengths, at least notat first. Everything is covered in dust.Dusting can't be done until surfacesare cleared. Surfaces can't be cleareduntil things get put away. Things can'tget put away until older things arethrown out. Et cetera. Untilthere is a floor, there is no floor. Withno floor, there is no room. No roommeans no guests. Et cetera.The first step to cleaning is acceptingthat the first step will almost alwaysfeel like the wrong step. The roomwill get more dirty before it gets clean,life will get more complicated beforethings get simple, the world will goon spinning even when you feelyou are at a standstill. Et cetera.
.after the dam breaksthe roaming riverreflects sunlighta spring smileas it embraces freedom
Crow CallingCold nights are experienced through the ears,the constant cricket chirping ceaselesslyover rolling rumbles from rushing airplanesoverhead, and the mirrored inhale, exhaleof a car rolling up, and past. For suburbs,it's something resembling serene, silence—or as close to it as cities get—sitting softon slanted shingles. When some solemnevening gets pierced by crow's calls, the coldsinks deep into the cracks of the night'sfoundation, a caterwauling that caststhe night into cauterized stillness. Comemorning, will the crows still call?
SlothI work from my bed; that's nota metaphor. I have a desk andno drive to sit at it. Movementis impacted by various factors, not leastbeing the comfort of you. Why shouldI work at a wooden desk whenI can work from your warmth instead?
canyon rengatwo leaveson the waterslow dancingthrough the canyonthe river runshomecoyote creepin the canyon at nightbefore going home.like them, I returnto you
July Haikuthon1.press fireflies todirty ribcage, pullingnight's promise closer.2.make musicon lake surface to close eyesto reflections.3.you are a lullabyi singto sleep.4.i hear your voicein the whisperof waves.5.fingernails scratchdemonsin mind.6.autumn's snowflakes fall,touched by wind; ground is a blankcanvas to their shades.7.mascara prints dawn pillows8.whispersamong ashes:i'm here9.october scentfound in leaves, hiddenamong letters10.yellow rubberskims the surface;quack quack.11.tiny printsand children's laughterspeckle shores.12.wax tricked - becomes puddles.13.a confession:night screamsonly for you14.a cry, a flash;feathers liescattered15.ribcage's musicrocksthe treetops.16.bubbleslitter skypop17.needlesticklefeet awake.18.red lightssprinkle the streetwith rain.19.thornsprickled wi
Haiku Collection 07 - Thematicsore from shouting,wrap frustrations, calmly,around a cigarettea funeral of earsmarks empathy's death.this suffering is yours.sobering skiesbring the recognition thatshe is beyond rosesloud music only prolongseventual reckoningof lossit was windyat the burialweather hasn't much changed.our relationshipis polluted with mistakesand apologiesI cradle thisguitar body as ifit were a mothercapo on third fretnooses are purchasedat package storessaddenedthatI love youI wonder,are you feigning regret,or powerless?her strength in doubtingmanifestations of loveare a threatit is painfulto know that you will diefeeling unneededChrist, I want thisto be different.Christ?our worlds are distinct.I envision your skiesempty of birds.this branch holds much weight.more than should be overlookedby a swinging child.
Creative ReasonTalented artists,Those that draw and those that write,All over the site.Some are seen more than othersWhile some, not at all;Pressure from the hoi polloiCauses few to fall.Be happy with where you are,Have humility.Create for creation's sake;This is art's true key.
Generic HaikuPoetry is gayAnyone can make some wordsProse requires skill
100 Haiku project -Added Monday 2nd April 20071. IntroductionUncomfortablethe silence before you sayHi to a stranger.3. LightPetals, purple, pull back:morning glory comes to lifeat dawns first light.27. ForeignGarish shirts and shortsadorn a bewildered mass.Bloody foreigners.62. MagicAbracadabrawill not make her reappear, loves magic is gone.78. DrinkDroplets race down slopes,icebergs clash in seas of brown.Chinese tea served cold.
r.s.v.p.what I'd really likeis someone who won't make mefeel ashamed to feel
nighta love songto the neighborhoodevening breezetwo dogsawake at nightfallvideo callingcrows lurkon the power linesgossipingtwo cats skulkamong shadowswaiting for sunriseso they can slumbertogether