Tag: haiku

the trains remain still
their hulks hissing in patience
steam, iron and grease

our fingers holding
reluctance and tender guilt
our eyes averting

whistles and cries crack
our mutual grip broken
and we spin apart

strip mall graffiti
penned declarations of lust
on the dry cleaner’s

her lips thought-pucker
as she mulls the proposal
lights flicker four times

she shakes her head, turns
and we leave, fingers touching,
reptile eyes watching

I catch the embers
let them burn soft weak fingers
as I breath their scent

they are the remains
a fiery charcoal dust
whispering anguish

my tears extinguish
the brine running with dark grime
smearing my features

Last night you told me.
Reality twisted and fell,
snagging on a hope.

Today, I replay
an infinite zoetrope,
and search for mistakes.

Yet in the flickers,
memory lights a story
too painful to hear.

dropping to earth
a bumblebee’s stumbling flight
I trace its progress

searching the crash site
dragging its dusty ruin
unable to fly

so gently I place
three spots of liquid honey
and watch its curled tongue

slipping under trees
the shadows flee our lanterns
hide, wait and quiver

we speak raucous verse
shrieking untamed poetry
until we are spent

leaving the others
escaping discordant light
I listen to the woods

blood flecks the grasses
ancient mewls and bitter cries
as they chase the hunt

bugles call their pride
as the sun lowers her head
in a shared mute shame

running panting breaths
flit under the ancient beech
into the woodland’s heart

light steps on concrete
cracked and stained by the ocean
rusting bones revealed

we scream in delight
as the surge slams and searches
throwing brine skyward

and sucking pebbles
and chip wrappers and seaweed
the grey wave recedes