Archive for September, 2015

Two Disciples At His Feet On Yom Kippur: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

September 23, 2015

Two Disciples at His feet, Yom Kippur, Springville Museum of ArtWho would guess that we/
disciples would meet at His/
feet on Yom Kippur?

Advertisements

Wait Means Waiting: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

September 23, 2015

“Wait upon the Lord”/
may sometimes mean we have to/
wait for His answers.

Beauty As Inspiration: Romantic IMprov Haiku

September 23, 2015

His beautiful words/
were inspired by her inner/
and outer beauty.

Thrill Of Thrilling: Romantic IMprov Haiku

September 23, 2015

He often wondered/
if he would ever have the/
thrill of thrilling her.

Late-Night Opportunity: Romantic IMprov Haiku

September 23, 2015

There are times when the/
chance of a lifetime appears/
and we yawn* through it.

OR
*sleep

Things Fit As They Should: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku Lament

September 22, 2015

stacked rocks by a stream memoryIn her memory/
I stacked rocks by a stream and/
washed my face. Fitting.

Phone Break-Up Angst: Romantic ConTEXTing Haiku

September 22, 2015

She broke up with me/
over the phone. Now I feel/
broken, scared, alone.
OR
She broke up with me/
over the phone. I feel scared,/
broken and alone.

Feeling Loss And Lost: Romantic ConTEXTing Haiku Lament

September 22, 2015

I feel loss and lost/
‘cuz I don’t know how to be/
or go without her.
OR
I feel loss and lost,/
not knowing how to be or/
go on without her.

Too Late Understanding Howl: Romantic ImproVerse Free Verse Poetic Lament

September 21, 2015

Tonight I howled at the moon,
where I had once gathered firewood
for us,
for s’mores,
but now there will be
no more.

Howling and
screaming and
yelling
until
I couldn’t see
through my tears.

Then I pulled off
the road and howled
some more as I watched
my dreams
and visions
and hopes
and the waxing moon
disappear behind a giant cottonwood tree,
until the Union Pacific’s
long,
low moaning whistle
drowned out my own howling
at the moon
and the dreams
that had disappeared.

And when I was done,
when my howling had ended,
I drove long and slow
down that old swamp path,
eye and eye nearly swollen shut,
caked with dust
that had dried up
in these desert fields,
dried up and blown away,
not like a dream deferred,
but like a vision
and a hope
sacrificed on an altar
of obedience
I wasn’t quite ready
nor prepared
to kneel at.

The Spirit Of The Temple: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

September 20, 2015

The feelings are there./
You don’t have to create them./
Just don’t impede them.