herbs for my pizza
with flowers for a garnish
a hedge of berris
petals will need to be dried
or soaked in oil
learning horticulture's arts
brings my food closure to home

I delve into the ( Read more... )

Because it's not about me, now
I run about completing someone else's tasks
Rarely a moment of selfish self-indulgence
Those take too much planning
Here - the silence lets me soak
Drowning my stress in warm scented water
Away from reality
Yes

a list of things to do
pauses brief and unrelenting
when these things are done
the list begins anew

the only question is
when will I choose this list?
can things undone fade?
will the unrelenting madness go?

the only answer is
I will never know
for fading leads to emptiness
where all finished lists go

there's supposed to be a poem here

a joyful exultation
of childish creativity

a golden ode
to sun-dappled greenery

there's supposed to be a poem here

a melancholy sonnet
to tired eyelids

a trudging dirge
of missed moments

there's supposed to be a poem here

perhaps there is

when I look at artful squiggles
although many seem the same
knowledge builds of their discordance
a contrast of cultures
revealed in phonemes
unfolding within my brain

You never know what's behind door number one
Everyone puts on their brave face
Little to be seen in formalities
Lots to be seen off screen
Oh how they dance and scurry
What fun, when it's not me!

in an afternoon ( Read more... )

a sliver of moonlight
not the brightest in the sky
the streetlight intrudes

(can we tell I'm behind? all these tankas and senryus)

tree light from above
flows through the mossy branches
dappling grasses
reflected in babbling streams
the essence of life abounds