Selected Tanka: Low-Hanging Moon Tanka

my home
is a low-hanging moon
tonight
as I become older
than my father

Notes from the Gean, 14, December 2012

Selected Tanka: Giant Red Lips Tanka

giant red lips
perched on a billboard
high atop
a beauty clinic...
this cold Easter Sunday

Notes from the Gean, 4:1, June 2012

Selected Tanka: Thread of Winter Light Tanka

locked up for years
in the damp basement
of her heart ...
now, I wake to see
a thread of winter light

Notes from the Gean, 4:1, June 2012

Selected Haibun: What Stays And What Remains?

Alone in the attic. On the desk, her farewell note stained with coffee.

“What matters isn't the fact of dying or when you die. It's what you're doing at that precise moment -- I'm ready to be loved.”

winter drizzle ...

my smoke rings

drifting

Notes from the Gean, 4:1, June 2012

Selected Tanka: No There There Tanka

for Gertrude Stein

Lake Ontario
cupped in my hands
a Taiwan moon...
her words linger in my heart
there is no there there

Notes from the Gean,3:4, March 2012

Selected Senryu: Red Light Senryu

red light –
a hearse driver
smiling at me

Notes from the Gean, 3:3, December 2011

Selected Haiku: Vine-Covered Window Haiku

vine-covered window . . .
I wrestle with the thought
of going back home

Notes from the Gean, 3:3, December 2011

Selected Haiku: Rushing River Haiku

single married single again a rushing river

Notes From the Gean, 6, September 2010

Selected Senryu: Low-Cut Top Senryu

night deepening
the office secretary adjusts
her low-cut top

Notes From the Gean, 5, June 2010

Selected Haiku: Azure Sky Haiku

wild blueberries
the smell
of azure sky

Notes From the Gean, 4,  March 2010

Selected Tanka: Autumn Wind Tanka

your hands
like autumn wind
caressing me --
tender one day
rough the next

Revision, Notes From the Gean, 4, March 2010

Father and Son Tanka

my home
is a low-hanging moon
tonight
as I become older
than my father

Notes from the Gean, 14, December 2012

Dog Haiku

those eyes
of a cornered dog
... merging with mine

Notes from the Gean, 4:1, June 2012

Basement Haiku

basement window...
a pile of sea-sculpted stones
on my desk

Notes from the Gean, 4:1, June 2012

Beauty Clinic Tanka

giant red lips
perched on a billboard
high atop
a beauty clinic...
this cold Easter Sunday

Notes from the Gean, 4:1, June 2012

Ghost Tanka

on a spring night
he pointed his finger
to the moon...
I will myself to chase
the ghost of his words

Notes from the Gean, 4:1, June 2012

Relationship Tanka

locked up for years
in the damp basement
of her heart...
now, I wake to see
a thread of winter light

Notes from the Gean, 4:1, June 2012

What Remains?: A Haibun

Alone in the attic. On the desk, her farewell note stained with coffee.

“What matters isn't the fact of dying or when you die. It's what you're doing at that precise moment -- I'm ready to be loved.”

winter drizzle...
my smoke rings
drifting

Notes from the Gean, 4:1, June 2012

A Tanka about China

one more sip
of my Starbucks latte...
through the window
Chairman Mao's stern face
above the Tiananmen Gate

Notes from the Gean, 3:4, March 2012

Moon Tanka

thick, congealed
blood on the moonlit floor…
ten years later
slowly a face
takes shape in my mind

Notes from the Gean, 3:4, March 2012