Long Dishwater Poems

From my Blog:
Of Byron, Keats And Shelley, A Few Words

(1.)

Of Byron And A Visit I Once Had

Alas! Youth and its joy away has flown
I wake at the break of day with a groan
the smooth mirror...

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ZEN DEATH HAIKU XI

These are my modern English translations of Japanese Zen Death Haiku. 

Above the garden
the camellia tree blossoms
whitely...
—Uejima Onitsura, loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Moonlit hailstones: 
the night hawks return.
—Uejima Onitsura, loose translation...

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Into Darkness She Had So Sadly And Swiftly Fallen
( A Very Sad Tale With No Fairytale Ending )

There in the dark cold room, emptiness and sorrow
Hung like a noose awaiting its next dying soul
Like youth...

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What's the point of Dr. Dishwater? 
Well, what's the point of anything? 
The only thing that appears 
to have a concrete purpose 
is my car key 
- And I haven't been able to afford a...

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He adored her. His blubbery lips
drooled at the sight of his love.
Her beauty seared his mind
a fiery arousal beat upon
the slopes
of his low, low brow.

He was quite the beast of a man -
a galoot, the...

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From knee high they told me to be patient, wait it out
Build foundation, straighten out, 
never rush creation.
"You gotta stay strong through the drought,
because rain'll come one day and that seed'll sprout"

But i didn't know...

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when I was married some years ago,
my wife then thought, for some reason
that she was the boss
and I was there for wifely pleas'in
she sleep late everyday, was truely much too lazy
she'd order me to do...

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Cracker Barrel — always a favorite.
Not my first choice today, but
we go where the grandkids go.

Warming my hands with coffee cup
...waiting...tap, tap...for the follow up.

I wonder if the waitress was in charge today…
Like an arcade...

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Just for you,I stayed away from
a guys' night- out of cool poker;
even prevented myself from having
the pleasure of beer on the couch.
But while my hands poured detergent,
ten times over, all I heard were rambles
and gurgles...

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Dishwater creeks are iron rails in the cold light.
The sky is thick
with the muted warnings of exhausted banshees.
Harken little sparrows
for bells in toll booths peel in their empty boxes.

The farms are lost, the fields have...

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She meekly chased after
nonexistent moonbeams
  in rose fashioned pipe
       dreamt illusions, 
as visual stimuli to
        rock her existence 
of inky stark...

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Imprisoned by clammy apron strings
She squats amidst domestic disorder
Dirty dishes, smelly household linens
Blackened pots and foamy dishwater.

Hastily, she conjures breakfast on the table
While vigilantly eyeing  the baby's cradle
A highly- strung neurotic woman
Nursing ghosts of...

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