Darkness Haiku

a crow's cry
flies into darkness ...
alone with myself

VerseWrights, September 2015

I know that the Earthquake is old news but..., A Haibun

That afternoon I was rocked into a deep sleep. In my dream I saw Mother holding me tightly and tearfully whispering a lullaby, "My child! ... Fear not, and sleep well."

amidst debris

scattered through the fields ...

a child's pink book

A reporter keyed in the headline,"7.9 Earthquake trembled through Sichuan, China." Official figures (as of June 4) ...

one howl, then many ...

the starless night

even darker

An operator pushed a button; numbers and images spread over the front page. Newsprint slid through color printers. Somewhere in the back pages, the China earthquake story waited with the news from other developing countries.

browsing Facebook...

her waist-length hair

and dimpled smile

A Hundred Gourds, 4:4, September 2015

Dragon Tanka

cookie-cutter
houses laid end to end ...
a dragon
circling in my mind
finds no place to rest

A Hundred Gourds, 4:4, September 2015

Tongue Tanka

loneliness
doesn't have a tongue –
it speaks
through a dripping faucet
and the tempest in my mind

A Hundred Gourds, 4:4, September 2015

Morning Yawn Haiku

my morning yawn --
the dog licking the sun
from his tail

A Hundred Gourds, 4:4, September 2015

Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow, A Haiku Set

last morning walk ...
our dogs
both silent too

summer stars
between the two of us
the Pacific

NeverEnding Story, September 8, 2015

Nest Haiku

a nest
in the bare maple
foreclosure sign

Hedgerow, 47, September 18 2015

Dollhouse Haiku

dollhouse
at the thrift store window
a cold moon

Hedgerow, 47, September 18 2015

Encyclopedia of Grievances Tanka

his note weighed down
with an encyclopedia
of grievances ...
pop, pop, pop from the warehouse
shatters this sultry night

NeverEnding Story, September 2, 2015

Spring Drizzle Haiku

spring drizzle...
light falls from her hair
to her breasts

PoemHunter, September 16 2015

Summer Dream Tanka

written on the day before the tenth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina

on the rooftop
a line of black women
frantically
waving their hands ...
a summer dream turns white

NeverEnding Story, August 28, 2015

Dripping Faucet Haiku

the faucet dripping ...
my loneliness comes
inside her

Wild Plum, 1:2, 2015
Anthologized in Behind the Tree Line

Starry Night Haiku

my words
caught in her eyes
starry night

Wild Plum, 1:2, 2015

Spider Haiku

writing haiku in the study's corner a spider spins

Brass Bell, September 2015

Clatter of Coins Haiku

snow on church steps
the clatter of coins
in his paper cup

Hedgerow, 45, September 4 2015

In His Own Write, A Tanka Prose

the mind

is schizophrenic

but the heart

has its own reason:

apoemisnotjustapoem

In a class room where there is pin-drop silence, I tell a small group of high school students, "Where there is art, there is no madness. My mentor writes freely and will fight against the dictatorship of words if words hold his thoughts captive."

on his deathbed

my mentor says, I've three lives:

one in dreams,

another during the day

and the last in my poems

Haibun Today, 9:3, September 2015

Exiled, A Haibun

Often, I yearn for things not lost; I go to sleep in Taipei, but wake up at midnight in Ajax. Like a black widow, loneliness wraps itself around my mind, spins a cocoon, and then squeezes until it stops moving.

early morning stillness ...

my heart wandering about

as in a haze

Kokako, 23, September 2015

Bible Study Haiku

bible study . . .
the ceiling fan cuts into
our silence

Kokako, 23, September 2015

First Spring Day Haiku

first day of spring
a flutter of lashes
and her slow smile

Kokako, 23, September 2015

Neither Autumn Nor Spring, A Haiku Set

summer moonlight...
lying on the grass
I bare my belly

winter solstice
the moon lends me a shadow
for the long walk home

NeverEnding Story, August 22, 2015

Sociolinguistics 101: No Language Is Neutral

A Tanka Sequence for Dionne Brand


ESL class at dusk:
white flight
from my Chinese mouth
to her Canadian ears
white fright

his parting words
like wet snow
blanket my world:
It’s a cappuccino, Liu
not a cup of chino

I used to be
are dirty words to her ears --
I leave my baggage
at the door of no return
and clean my eyes

do, does, did, done
screaming in my head …
can one ideogram
  this      做 (zuo)
muffle their voices?

Oh, you write
in English . . .
his “oh “
tasting like pinot noir
left open overnight

You’re a poet?
I dabble in the dark arts . . .
in her eyes
I’m a Chinese coolie
working in the English mine

the Chinese
erased from the “last spike” photo . . . 
out of revenge
I write a “white fl/right” verse
stamped Made in Canada

Atlas Poetica, 22, 2015

Note: The “last spike” refers to the ceremonial final spike driven into the Canadian Pacific Railway at 9:22 am on November 7, 1885.

Stranger Tanka

waking
next to a stranger
with no clothes on . . .
the afternoon sun
deepens the silence

Atlas Poetica, 22, 2015

Old Boxed Set Tanka

old boxed set
of Marcel Proust
on the bed
my memory of Taipei
framed by an attic window

Atlas Poetica, 22, 2015

Coffee-Stained Desk Tanka

returned manuscript
on the coffee-stained desk . . .
her words, I see
the phoenix in you,
linger on this cold night

Atlas Poetica, 22, 2015

Framed Photo Tanka

I look tenderly
at this woman
who can’t look back:
the framed photo
of my youthful ex

Atlas Poetica, 22, 2015

Attic Tanka

loneliness
selects its own society
in the attic: 
cold moon at the window
water-stained ceiling and me

Atlas Poetica, 22, 2015

Cardboard Sign Tanka

beneath the lamppost --
the cardboard sign
on her chest
reads Wearth/Worth
in black and gold

Atlas Poetica, 22, 2015

Note: The Old English word wearth means outcast.

Happy Meal Tanka

Golden Arches
against the winter sky . . .
in the break room
a co-worker and I
share one Happy Meal

Atlas Poetica, 22, 2015