Relationship Senryu

buying a tailored suit --
the same old style
his mother chose for him

Prune Juice, #4

Raven Haiku

the raven
settles on a bare branch...
blue moon and I

Haiku News

Snow Haiku

French restaurant
dropping in his begging bowl
snowflakes

Back Cover Haiku, Ambrosia: Journal of Fine Haiku, #5

Nostalgia Haiku

thinking
of my family, hometown . . .
tangled fish hooks

Ambrosia: Journal of Fine Haiku, #5

Autumn Haiku

autumn moonlight
slips into the attic window . . .
thinking of Li Po

Ambrosia: Journal of Fine Haiku, #5

Sound on Sight

snow on snow…
notes of cherry song in spring

A Handful of Stones (June, 27, 2010)

The Seventh Seal (Haibun)

My father doesn't talk about death because he cares more about leaving behind a good reputation. My mother is skilled at evading death-talk because she is afraid and doesn’t want to sever all ties with her loved ones. My older brother doesn’t speak about death because he thinks he is courageous enough to face all kinds of situations. My younger brother doesn’t mention death because he is so busy enjoying life, here and now. I often think of death.

sunrays drift
in and out of the window
autumn dusk

June, 2009 issue of Word Catalyst

A slip of the moon

hangs over my house.
I stand alone
beneath the bright moonshine.

Raising my cup,
I entice the moon;
her reflection of you and me
makes us three.

The moon knows
you are far away
yet near to me.

June, 2009 issue of Word Catalyst

A Tale of Two Cities

the plum rain
in Taipei
makes nostalgia clamber
in my attic

the sudden thunder
over Toronto
startles loneliness
out of its complacency

Summer 2010 issue of Rust+Moth

You, My Calliope

Every night
I sleep beside you
but wake up alone

It is futile
to chase you
from my waking mind
for you invade my dreams

Day slips by
when I forget your name
Time stands still
when I pine for you

Every day
I wake up alone
but sleep beside you

February, 2009 issue of Word Catalyst

My Foreign Anguish

English, a foreign mistress,
gives me misty eyes
as I write in anguish.

I, a word apprentice,
thwarted by time's passing,
pine to be a poet.

Words, lost in translation,
are empty spaces in between,
as I compose my poem.

February, 2009 issue of Word Catalyst

Relationship Haiku

frost
on a blade of grass --
your three words

Frogpond, Vol., 33:2

Rain Haiku

English Original: 

the distance between
my attic and the moon --
April rain 

Serbian Translation by Saša Važić

razdaljina između
mog potkrovlja i meseca –
aprilska kiša

Frogpond, Vol., 33:2
Reprinted in Haiku Reality, #4

A Xiao Shi (Chinese Short Poem)

I drink the silence
of the crescent moon
in a river of words

A Handful of Stones (June, 13, 2010)

Raindrop Haiku

on maple leaves
glittering raindrops gather –
floating worlds

June, 2010 issue of Berry Blue Haiku

Moon Haiku

harvest moon outside;
the smell of steamed buns
on mother’s apron

June, 2010 issue of Berry Blue Haiku

Butterfly Haiku

butterflies
wing over cherry petals --
shadows embracing

June, 2010 issue of Berry Blue Haiku

The Hard Facts of My ECG

I dive into the depths
of my heart
to record the hard facts
often, I am stricken
by the beat
of my own words

please read my ECG
a diagram of chambered secrets.

Summer 2009 issue of Concise Delight Magazine of Short Poetry

Nightlife

looking out the car window
you gaze across the glittering city
someone is watching you drive by
from a dark street corner
neon lights flash by your window
your realm is someone else’s dream

Summer 2009 issue of Concise Delight Magazine of Short Poetry

Politics Haiku

politicians
blah blah blah…
snowflakes

Haiku News (June, 12, 2010)

Death Tanka

Death peers
over my shoulder
taunting me
how can I stop her
from editing my poems?

Eucalypt, #8

If on a Winter’s Night a Patient (Cherita Sequence)

time stands still

on the old clock above
the counter in the ER

I wait
patiently
for my turn

walking out the door

casting no glances
we pass each other by

then disappear
snow traces the weight
of each burden

Getting Something Read (June, 10, 2010)

After Epiphany

I used to be the black cloud,
now I'm turning gray.
Hands age, veins emerge,
wrinkles gradually set in
around the mouth and brows.
The back begins to ache,
the voice gets hoarse,
a charming quality to some,
the roughness of the age to others.

Today, as I strolled down Yonge,
I was suddenly pushed
by a careless teen
who rushed by me.
While regaining my footing,
I saw an elderly man
trying in vain to retrieve
his rolling oranges.
As he crawled after them,
I realized he is helplessly old
and I am helplessly young.

September, 2009 issue of Word Catalyst

Flies and I (Sijo)

After a cascade of showers
slanting sunlight slips into my room

Followed by a swarm of flies
buzzing around like aimless tourists

Alone, I have nothing to do but
become their tour guide

September, 2009 issue of Word Catalyst

This Is Daily Life (Sevenling)

This is daily life:
hours passing by, day after trivial day,
blank years in and out.

And then the sudden moments of being:
the stab of memories, the sting of longings,
the slaughter of Time.

There is no screaming tragedy in ordinary life.

September, 2009 issue of Word Catalyst

I and Calliope in Harmonious Rapture

A choir in the sky,
garden in the sea,
lark in my chest.
An island in our bed,

throbbing agony
caressed by your hand.
Moans and pain
born to your laughter,
raised in your tears.

Time and silence.
Clocks ticking.

March, 2009 issue of Word Catalyst

Throbbing Agony

I must have experienced
la petite mort after Calliope
caressed my secret spots --
enveloped in pleasure
as the grass is wrapped
in dewy green. I am a bard
riding a dragon, flying across time
and space. I can't tell you where --
It is as if I appeared where I am now.

March, 2009 issue of Word Catalyst

Remembrance of Things Past

shades of memories
fly about, collide, and land
I pick them up
and put them to rest on the page

November 2010 issue of Four & Twenty

Solitude

maple tree and I
gaze at each other --
neither of us moves
or gets tired

October, 2010 issue of Four & Twenty

Birth of a Poem

a plastic bag
whirled by the wind
struggling in mid-air --
my poem is born at the sight

October 2010 issue of Four & Twenty

Peace

a dove opens its wings
while perching on the head
of the stone lion
still guarding the entrance 

Four and Twenty of the Week, December 15, 2010

Burning Love

the smoke of your letters
disappears into the moonless night
I open our album

December 2009 issue of Four & Twenty

Through A Glass, Darkly

I hold
the mirror of my life
up to my face.

I see
a man in black
staring back at me.

With a swing
I smash the mirror.
The day and I
grow dark as one.

Winter 2009 issue of Rust+Moth

Pickled Sorrow

I slice my sorrow,
pickle the cutlets,
and closet them in a jar.

When hungry,
I'll have a slice
with pinot noir.

Winter 2009 issue of Concise Delight

Quiet Night

Frost carpets my room.
Bewitched by the bright moon,
my shadow and I sit by the window
gazing upon her white jade face.
Hours later she elopes
with my only companion.
I am left alone to wait
for the morning cacophony of traffic.

Winter, 2009 issue of Concise Delight

Love Tanka

the cooing
of a dove by my window --
I try to decipher
the Morse code sent from you
an ocean away

Winter 2009 issue of Concise Delight;
anthologized in 140 And Counting

Plum Haiku

these piles
of falling plum petals
no new messages 

Shamrock, No 14

Moon Haiku

wolf moon...
shadowy figures
under the eaves

Shamrock, No 14

Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter… Spring: A Haiku Sequence

just one petal
floating off the cherry tree...
moonlight

pinot noir
from my mouth to hers
summer grass

autumn dusk --
little twigs interlaced
in all directions

the begging bowl
accepts falling snow
wooden sky

June, 2010 issue of Taj Mahal Review

Heaven and Earth: A Haiku Sequence

he creeps across
the roof in twilight --
hazy minarets

she keeps her senses
on full alert at all time:
CNN War Report

he inhales Dust-Off
to drive demons from his mind:
a handful of dust

homebound geese
carry back the westering sun --
V on her wrist

June, 2010 issue of Taj Mahal Review

Note: Dust-Off cleaning spray is a can of compressed air to blow dust off electronic equipment. But it can also be inhaled as a kind of sedative, which can cause heart and lung damage if repeated.

Le Moribond: A Haiku Sequence

China rose buds
touch one another
spring breeze

slipping between
our entwined fingers
summer moonlight

the scent
of her warm breasts
autumn rose in bloom

snowflakes
falling upon snowflakes...
I dust her photo

June, 2010 issue of Taj Mahal Review

Crabwalk: A Poem Sequence

I

Every night
I slept in Taipei
but woke up in Ajax

My mind was winged
by a yearning
for things not yet lost

II

An immigrant to Ajax
I'd stayed there six years
but at night in dreams
Taipei was still my home

Last week, I drove south
across the Canadian border
Reality dawned and I realized
From now on Ajax will be
where I am from

III

Sometimes I dream in Chinese
I dream my father's dream
I awake and become Eric

Sunlight streams into my room
caressing me with its warmth
as it welcomes me home

Spring, 2009 Issue of The Stellar Showcase Journal

A Confucian Confusion

Three times a day for years,
I have sat alone
by the lake of mind.
I see your face
beneath the water,
we never get tired
of gazing at each other;
I call out to you,
silently comes an echo.
I dedicate these moments
to you alone, for you
I groom myself.

Fall, 2008 Issue of The Stellar Showcase Journal

A River of Memories (Haibun)

for Norman Maclean and Ralph Wood

a snake slithers
into tall grass --
year’s end

Life is flowing on like a river. Sometimes with murmurs, bending this way or that. It is swift, oftentimes voiceless yet continuous. Every year at the time when the New Year is in and the old out, a burning desire emerges from my heart and pushes me to re-live those moments of being.

a wrinkled face --
waning blue moon
in the river

In and through my remembrance of things past, all of them are eventually merging into one remembered moment. The river of my life runs through it, a river that is always cutting and curving, now hurrying, then eddying, sometimes draining into dry channels, but still carrying its load of soil and rocks.

Notes From the Gean, Issue 5

Night Haiku

night deepening
the office secretary adjusts
her low-cut top

Notes from the Gean, Issue 5

Moon Haiku

snow moon
two porch chairs
facing each other

June 2010 issue of The Heron's Nest
reprinted in Haiku News (Sep. 12, 2010)