Nietzsche’s Dancers

 

 

 

deaf dancers move
to their own beat –
the music unheard by those
with blind cynical eyes
watching dumbly  
in jaundiced judgement

Sybarite

 

 

 

 

 

My sybaritic seducer
Whose tongue-tipped lips
Lick wickedly like warm waves
Annealing my malleable resolve
And raping the corpus of my stoic soul,
Cease your torment of my long-healed wound
And let it be; for I exist content, quite whole, alone,
My memories the marrow of my firmly steadfast bones.

Seashell Haiku シーシェル俳句

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Widow picks seashells
She’s in harmony with them
They are both hollow

Their empty homes bare
Bereft of life and substance
Spirit washed away

Haiku – Sculpture Series

Ice sculpture will yield
its fifteen minutes of fame
hot in the city

Rhapsody in Blue Ink

 

 

 

 

 

 

To pour a poem onto page
select a well of ink
try one with mood
or brooding shrewd
perhaps a wistful ilk

Some brands can have a tad of fear
or fourteen heartbeats loud

Hawthorn Haiku

the sun behind the
swaying hawthorn tree contrives
transparent leafglow

its shadow on the
wall conducts an orchestra
of soft woodwind boughs

The iPad and The iPhone

I pad to my phone and I Skype her,

Her pad’s within Wi-Fi from here,

My iEye sees that she’s uncovered,

Said “put rubber bumper on rear”

Song to Satan

Dedicated to Ogden Nash

Her curves

Had verve.

I thought

Why not?

I sin –

You win.