September Poem 11: Haiku D’etat

Red Eyed Tears

 

The Baptist Church on

Saturday and umbrella

With their lumberyard.

 

Three Men Now Have

 

A mother-daughter

Glasses frame and a mustache tree.

The stock pair of dreams.

 

And Nights Passed

 

Their hats in rumbles

Of petal blood. They honored

Heart shaped Feather trim.

 

Pizza Party

 

Stan had the field so

He could be fed on the tall

Grass when there was none.

 

Mental Dimensions

 

Jerod Thompson, the

Crispy wearing man, relearned

The laws of physics

 

As paintbrushes blinked

In and out of his hands with

The swiftness of thought.

June Poem 21

Destruction and creation

Into motion for posterity.

The world’s first beginnings

At the distant edges

The thing moves faster—

Faster as it converges.

                                   

I am the center

A universal spiral

All matter historian, void.

Motivated to coalesce,

Spin in a vortex, to become gain

Because I recognize even them.

It spins in reds, oranges, and whites.

 

Once down my face,

There is a tension.

My chest. Again lost.

 

I can feel the tears streaming.

Only this,

Tightness of sorrow.

I am lying

Face on my center.

 

I remember old arthritic knuckles

And wrinkles and wrinkled hands.

My hands are covered.

 

In red all—

The friends dead.

Write down the results.

Preserve the universe.

This is the event that causes me.