StipticWhore portraiture--many blades to wateralone together.
Sunken LibrarySere pages decaybathtub-born resident--logical greeting.
VulcaniJunco lattice--skull mounded reed circulars--feckless mage.
D. Metel vs The Ivory TrollSeeds rain down uponrusted cast nails,blue chips of glass,the shoebox they put me in doesn't fitmy fingers,my thighs,my heart,my liesto avoid being categorized.
Valentine 2015Compassion toward an invader is non-local to faith.When identity can only be mistaken,strew the welcome mat with nails.One man's scarlet shame is another man's crimson assurance.The taste is sullen, yet haughty, overwhelmingly sea-salty.I have nightmares about metal monsters,water breathing pickpockets,paper mache owls and the ginger mafia.The color of the corner you're painting us into,is it the soft red glow of love,the deep pink of "Don't touch me there!",the sterile white of "Never mind, you are far crazier than I imagined.",or the putrescent yellow of our anemic plight,our fearful hearts and shaking hands,our frenzied machinations,dripping blood, sweat and bile into a pitch black yawn(?)...
Left-Handed Bibles OnlyTwist-tree angstgawk pang ecstasy framedslender moon --stay.
Diwalifestival of lighta time for peace, hope and joydiwali magic©Phatpuppyart.com
Hakuna Matatano cares in this worldsing hakuna matataand just fly away
Living the Everyday Haiku1climbing the first verticalit comes to—a snail on my shoe2leaves falling everywhereI look, how easy it isto let them go3I marvel at everyrose bush petalholding fast in the wind4seed packets in a drawer—dormant dreams of an herbal gardencome spring5sharp-edged cloudscutting the moon in halfbut not the piercing wind6still in bed—winter scrubbing the remainsof autumn from the trees7 (seen on local news today)king tides—waves scattering cliff sidespectators with sea foam and awe8how cold the night—no sound of cricket or birdyet his breath in slumber9late morningpulling taut the bed sheet,outline of my tortoiseshell comb10lace curtain patternsfrom a kitchen breezefill the empty fruit bowl11chopping winter vegetablesfor stew—my thoughts of summer plums12reflection of my rouged lipson the window sillthrough a water glass13jelly-making day—pomegranate halves, redon half-read newspaper14freeze
available nowlove is like a bruiselurking just beneath your skinbegging to be born
February Haiku 09-1-flakesflitting in the windthe swallows are far from home-1.5-clothes fly by the dryer window,backgrounds in a Roadrunner cartoon-2-trees paint their nails;everyone elsewears gloves-3-frozen pavements,streets wrappedin cling film-4-crumpled tissuesthe remainsof a snowman-5-virgin snowtrampledby a girl in hot pants-6-cryptic crosswordsand newsprint;not everything is black and white-7-buying frozen mincein a knitted red jumper-8-personal adsstackedwindows in a block of flats-9-snow wilts into the mud;umbrellas continueto bloom-10-gingerbread sky,midnight humswith sirens-11-bloated riversqueezing under bridges;roads fat with traffic-12-snowflakes on lashesplastic bagsin the branches of trees-13-blackout;streetlamps diebent old men lost in the dark-14-pigeons scatterin front of a cyclist;diners fling crumbs-15-unsteady rhythm on the roof;rain invisibleagainst the sky
HaikuWriMo 2015February 2nd- Bear Hugcalloused fingers so gentlerough yet healing like a balmgiving into his embracegreedy for his touchFebruary 3rd- Halloweena night where faeries paradevampires dance with demonssugar is their drug of choicethat’s All Hollow’s EveFebruary 4th- untitled yet clearly inspired by all the snow I’ve been seeing.dark at five o’clocka biting chill creeping inwelcome home winterFebruary 5th- letting gotear drops ran screamingleaving trails of salt on my cheekssilent goodbyeFebruary 6th- HorrorKumommy wears a maskof kind eyes and smiles to hideretractable fangsFebruary 7th- my swirling gardenlost inside the looking glasstwitter-pated butterfliesglide over the mushroom fieldsgarden of my dreamsFebruary 8th- I rememberthe night afterSeptember elevenththe sky was dark and silentFebruary 9th- a song on the breezedrip drop metronomea soprano melodyfloats among th
When The Maskim Fall Like RainDelicate thingsblossoms easily bruised--hard to see beyond their swords.