Tanka
A Tanka is another ancient Japanese form consisting of 5 lines.
Sweet melodies float through the air
Sounds of peace, love, hope, joy
Voices in time and harmony
Bittersweet memories of
The bond we shared.
Indifferent
It’s hard to care
when sleep is intoxicating.
The pull toward oblivion
is a thick velvet
rope around my neck.
Bank rope strangling
me into complacency
and obedience.
I only want.
I want and I want and I
want. Chitinous clatter
blocks my face from the sun.
I wear a helmet
of shell and tar.
Keep me hidden.
culinary bonanza
culinary bonanza
i serve a perfect recipe for dressing smart:
avoid clingy shirts, opt for
clean lines, complement
your look with merino wool
signals understated taste, ease with life
throw on hair gel
tame some of that wild
my spectacular spread, decorating guidance:
keep it simple, minimal, chic
lose that aqua polka dotted rug
embrace muted tones, modern looks
light a candle for ambiance
stick to simple pieces
with hints of personality
here’s a healthy dish of interview tips:
dazzle with positive energy
problem solving & patience
don’t forget your awesome work ethic,
customer service, value added
wear your passion
thick like summer jam
irresistible treat, my famous dating counsel:
put yourself out there
join that group – get yourself
an electric bike, a jump-start ascent
you never know who you might meet
why stay bland when
you possess cinnamon charm
i’ve cooked & plated unsolicited advice:
my parietal lobe’s culinary bonanza
chefs up thoughts-turned-speech
to tongue, unable to hold back
all that i want for you
maternal bounty for your table
… you politely note thanks, you’re not hungry
June 26, 2021
time capsule
along with his dog tags
they gave her his watch
hands stuck in perpetuity
behind broken glass
she took the ribbon from her hair
and tied it to the buckle
kissed the inside of the leather
which still smelled like him
leaving a lipstick print there
and wedging her diamond in
behind the shattered glass
burying it all in his cousin’s yard
by the light of a sobbing moon
the home they planned to buy on his return
which would not be now
neither home nor return would be now
or ever
rest in love, she whispered
the watch settled into its earthen tomb
she never heard his “I do”
she never heard his “I do”
Years Ago (Hour 5 Half Marathon 2021)
Years Ago
(Hour 5 Half Marathon 2021)
Years ago
I buried in my memory
Hoping to forget
The subject of . . .
It was pretty bad
And I still am not sure
If I want to recall
Every now and then
I get a vague feeling
Of something
Maybe that very thing.
I recently bought a new house
A place to create new memories
A place to call home
The back yard was a little uneven
And my dog kept sniffing
Over a certain place at the corner
Right where the fence is
After a few weeks of my dog
Going to that spot and whimpering
Making my wife unhappy
I decided at my wife’s instructions to dig up the area
I found an old box of someone else’s memories
I decided to re-bury the box
Sometimes you just don’t want to know.
Be
Everything shall make sense when everything that we have been told makes sense makes no sense to anyone
everyone knows it’s bullshit.
just fuckin be.
Escape
A light scent and a warm breeze,
A tune that melts the worries away.
Weightless, touchless, sensory void
Receptors blocked and muscles relaxed.
Energy pulsing at a low voltage,
Just keeping pace with the lub of blood.
Fading and stretching into nothing,
Life evaporates into dusk.
What I mean to say
What I mean is that it’s okay
to say love is not a platitude.
Because we are deeper and larger
than what we’ve learned. No more platitudes for me. Surgically remove
my ego. Let it all go,
partially deflated latex balloons
too weak to fly away. It’s okay
to start small. It’s okay
to settle for what you can get
until you can reach your height.
Poem 5: A Tribute to Dylan Thomas “Red”
Those days of old
lingering, dreaming
Under that tree that weeped
my soul never sold
The wagon I fed
full of smiling apples
Shined for hope and perfection
as happy, as they were red
The heydays
a time of unpurposeful frolic
But always within me
a dance and one-act plays
Dusk at the river
so mysteriously quiet
Except for the buzzing of twilight flies
as I take on evening’s shiver
The flowers and trees
all seemed to agree with me
Singing and carefree
colourful with my grass-stained knees
I couldn’t decide between the mystical stars
or the orange rise of the sun
Everything was merciful
there were no lingering scars
Time was timeless
The clock ticking, never ominous
I was loved and loving
Never a day was rhymeless
The cows and horses
and the choo of the train
Speaking to me in a way
to give me a princely course
I played in the hay with my wishes
No needles in my way
Reading of a pirate’s lore
and mythical giant fishes
The red gables of home
so bright and confident
Could I forever be the same?
as my dreams began to roam