Haiku for the week: 06/26/14 – 07/03/14

Rocket’s red glares are pounding at my temples in our neighborhood the day before the 4th. While I love the smell and smokey afterbirth of firework displays, I dislike hearing the random noisy fists and starts leading up to the event though I get how you don’t mind it when you’re the one doing it…

06/26/14
bounce-housed brain shudders,
pulses, thwacking into self:
giddy, busy joy

06/27/14
snakeskinny dipping,
horse apples, and IEDs:
land mines in Eden.

In other news, the fecund, summer weather has matured into a humid, lusty metaphor of our relationships…

06/28/14 the “how’s” and “why’s “of Happy Endings- as dared by Margaret Atwood
should it mean something
how sky’s wavery fibers,
her striated clouds,

are constellations
in your iris flecked with brown
birds? how sand dunes sift,

cousining your gyred
whorling fingerprinted loops
when you account for

the time difference?
how we secrete magma’s fierce
heat through these veined souls?

On this evening, I listened so very hard for a haiku that the listening itself became my observation:

06/30/14
stretching my ears to
the horizons until they
meet back up again

Other nights, it’s the snores of my domesticated beasties echoing my own weariness that inspired these words:

07/01/14 what we took for granted
restlessly we streamed
twitchy dreams of suckling-
awakening weaned

Two words on the poem for the 2nd “True Story”…but somehow the literal translated to the universal  with some accuracy

07/02/14
pretending it’s not
dark, we whistle down hallways
cussing at door jambs

And this, a reminiscence from this morning’s cool, dewy drive with the windows down, scents of early innocence bittersweet with loss as I made my way to physical therapy among the other impaireds like myself.

07/03/14
new shorn alfalfa
scrubs glinting dawn breezes bald:
sea sick nostalgia

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