Long Windowpanes Poems

Twice the night had fallen upon a sleepless slumber,
Yet again awoken by winter when the third was three in number.

I sense that a silence doth sneak ‘tween cracks of weathered wood,
Conniving with that which shadows...

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Once the night had fallen upon a sleepless slumber,
Whence the winter woke me when the third was three in number.

I sense that a wince doth lurk and wear which wicked gaze,
Of conniving shadows cast between...

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Thrice the night—the day!—both fell to sleepless slumber,
But now in Spring, though yet again: The third was three in number. 

I sense a wince remind itself,
Of what it means to be,
Instead to beg for booked...

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PART 1:          THE MEETING

Alone one night neath lantern light, I trudged a weary mile.
Forlorn, I went with shoulders bent (the storms around me howled)
until I met...

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A wince doth lurk wearing which wicked gaze,
Of conniving cast shadows ‘tween my windowpanes.

Gazing through the window’s diaphanous gelid glass, 
I see a flushing fluorescent misty haze of frothy brass.

It floats aloft the frost of...

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The past was locked in with very little 'right of passage'.                        ...

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                           The wind is blowing cold tonight 

 ...

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As dawn unfolds today beyond my fractured windowpane,
a breeze beguiles the ashen drapes. Like snakes they slip aside,
revealing wanton worlds that race and run aground, insane,
immersed in scenes obscene that savants strive to mask and...

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I had always adored purple lilacs, and never could get enough,
As wildflowers bloom abundantly, although times may get rough.

They had graced a backyard garden, that I'd known in childhood,
On a tree lined street of birdsong,...

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I belonged to a family of farmers, we had farmed for generations;
And we were true to our land, as blooms loyal to sweet sensations.

I knew the fierce satisfaction, only derived from working the land;
And sometimes...

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“The Language of the Undone”

I prefer 
them 
over humans
those velvet souls 

loving 
the lesser 
parts of me 
always

more than anyone 
else cares to admit 
they inspect 
every inch of me 

walking over me 
territorily 
like...

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This poem was inspired by the photograph titled, 'Running Legs,' by Lisette Model.


I was an experienced hiker, who had rambled down many famous trails,
Like earth's charming, 365 day tales, of its seasonal, sightseeing avails.

I'd trekked...

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ZEN DEATH HAIKU XII

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

Both victor and vanquished are dewdrops:
flashes of light
briefly illuminating the void.
—Ouchi Yoaka, loose translation/interpretation of his jisei (death poem) by Michael...

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With my first soulful breath,
it was Mother’s eyes I saw.
She counted my tiny fingers and toes,
leaned gently to kiss my brow.
Announcements sent out right away,
my name chosen so carefully.
The name, I think, a famous General’s...

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An ancient river, centuries-old shops and restaurants steeped in a 2000-year history and 
culture set the scene. The ambiance seemed divinely contrived to facilitate the purposes of 
our meeting and the very fodder from which...

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It’s in the rows of old oaks
                the pothole that was never filled,
       ...

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 dodoitsu series (rhymed) 

Winter is taking the reins
speeding past days of autumn -
Jack Frost smears the windowpanes
forefingers and thumb.

You who have no house to own,
too proud to seek charity,
you choose your path all alone
that’s...

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The dignitaries are passing through the town in big Limonene and long gowns. They are throwing five hundred dollars bills on the ground and the people are running all around.

Children are running after them and...

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     "Christmas Spirit"
(Christmas Day in Italian Culture)



as a snowy blanket of white caresses in Winter's glow
and frosty icicles kiss windowpanes in glazy show
a silent atmosphere embraces a starlit sight
while magnificent choir...

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… scattered jazz,
haunted gnarls of
octupi-night staggering
between semen-splinters of stars
pain-fornicating in
my collective gutter, my disheveled
cells oozing your
black and
softer gold
burning silence
in a heathen writhe between my ears
dancing on the cusp: my dead-zone ecstasy
defiling
corrupting and
seduction-raping the
industry of numbness,
toilet-scream...

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With a wave of the hand
     and a wry, twisted smile,
She'll cast you aside
     ev'ry once in a while;
And the door is shut quick
   ...

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Arabic:  (Alam) meaning "world" or "universe"

A character of a madman has a role in the play. 
Henceforth, the casting was done,
Alam, the madman, to mentor in the acting,
the wanderer in the graveyard area
his folded...

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In the soft glow of December’s muted light,
you gather around the table, memories swirling,
not as bright as they once shimmered in your youth,
but still, they echo—a chorus of laughter fading.
You were wild then, careless as...

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t   a     p

         tip     tap

  p     l    i ...

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"The music in my heart is from the tolling of the bell"



I drove in silence, watching the road closely as it coiled along the rocky coastline, occasionally flipping on the wipers to remove the sea...

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