Haiku of the weeks 08/16/14 – 08/28/14

These past two weeks (and their resulting poems) have been full of promise and fear; sort of like a caffeine overdose – jittery exciting and wearisome all at once. Instantaneous furious flurries of anticipation  flushed with hope are hummingbirds that swoop in,lively thrumming, feed and speed away. I’ve been pendulummed between that glitter-eyed giddiness and it’s flip side, the anxious exhaustion of analytic dream-squashing pessimistic realism. I will be doing so until some of these unknowns begin to manifest themselves.

The good news is no knee surgery is required; the bad news is, there’s no fixing it until it’s so bad it needs replaced, and insurance is done with PT for this year so we’ll just have see how much activity I can tolerate. The good news is the offer was accepted on a new house; the bad news is, ours hasn’t yet sold; the good news is we can fix it up; the bad news is we’re tired of staying up late working on it; the good news is the guy can come refinish our hardwood floors this week; the bad news is it’s taking twice as long and we’re homeless in the meanwhile…

Oh, I suppose stability would become irritatingly boring after a while…but I think I’d be willing to give it a try at this point!

caterpillars must
become defensive to first
raise their cocoon walls;

to squeeze rubbered lungs
into tight, glossy segments,
stretch growing-pained limbs;

to shift from plodding
chewing to nectar-licking;
from plant death to sex.

what if I treated my soul like my house plant?

wilted, thirsty leaves
wait patiently for me to
save my captives’ lives

empty window creaks,
plucks my soul, syncopating
my inner clamor

smooth haiku chortles
as it’s smoked thru hookah pipes
shared amongst us all

eyes enfleshed, focus;
we’ll exhale through our pupils,
soften our gazes

our lungs are redwoods;
rootings gnarled towards vast skies
large enough to live

“now” finds us enoughed;
if we could only stay here
soft, strong, and enlarged

wan skies seep towards earth:
the scent of destiny wafts
like cottonwood fluff

floats upward/away
just how glitter disperses
when we shake the globe

country yard work

snapped twigs twang loam-some
sorted/sordid pasts become
trailering piles

second verse

dumped in a shiny
pickup as skittering sticks
lift like strands of hair

perhaps we were birds
cooing and preening on lines
in between our flights

08/25/14 reprise
what if, like cheetahs,
we had only enough sprints
to eat for today?

husked, heavy-eyed,
hurtled hurried urgency
recedes – fatigued

drippy clouds plastered
to blurred distances came loose;
(unfastening time)

cast their barbed hooks on
boulders we’d hoarded; stacks of
dark, crawdad regrets –

pebbles once skipped
across skybound reflections
from those ancient heights

now ruminated,
they plunk like lost tooth anchors
swallowed, rippleless

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