Haiku: On being alive

Actors on a stage
Improvise for the first time.
We’re all new at this.

Haiku: Fire

I can feel your fire

not sure if I can help it

I'd better cool down

Haiku: Soon

Old versions of me

Overhauling of ego

Soon, she said, smiling

Haiku: Portal

Need this nakedness
Everything’s too visible
Pussy is Portal

Haiku: No

Today is still: No.
Like a lot of catching up,
That is how it feels.

Safety

When you misunderstand me,

Through no fault or weakness

Save your own pains and confusions of life,

It’s then I comprehend

You’ll be eternally blind to mine.

I retreat to the sanctuary

of my own secret mystery.

Haiku: Waiting

What’s with the weather?
I don’t like the phone ringing.
Neither does my cat.

Haiku: Onion girl

Warm winter’s evening

Beach walk. No moon

Self: contained

Haiku: My father's reluctant sigh

My father, learning
To take care of living things
His reluctant sigh

Tercet: Laughter part 2

This is the laugh of a heart
That’s been broken and broken and broken
But never fell apart

Haiku: All fours

Walk around on all fours
You are not mine anymore
Nor am I yours

Tercet: Laughter part 1

This is the laugh
From a time before we invented evil.

Bless your pagan heart.

Haiku: (a) Death

Confrontation of the Never

The gift of wisdom released

A friend left bereft by Death

Chocolate mist

Morning mist beach walk;
Over the ocean it comes:
Milk chocolate scent

Haiku: haiku girl

I once sent a girl 
One haiku every two weeks

I’ll never know if it worked

Haiku: Demystifying The Beast

To avoid your life

You like to fix broken things.

I made that easy.

White stones for white witches

He sends me digital images
        of ancient things
where once he may have
burned me on a pyre

or I him

We traverse lifetimes
To meet once again
Christian priest
      and Wild wolf woman

Haiku: Bones

I borrow from nature raw and naked

The wind exposes its bones to me

And I, mine, to it

Haiku: Discovery

The welcoming warmth

her own bones and inner presence

Now she knows her worth

To Poetry

What kind of strange beast are you really,
Poetry?
Part song, part lyric,
Some creature serving as vehicle between worlds

So that
The purported disease of language
Can be elevated, celebrated and used appropriately
To get into the problem properly,
Adequately yet mysteriously describe
The most abstract, yes, sometimes
The most marginalised or despised
Thoughts and impressions of 
Being alive for this ride.

You honour us with your presence.
We honour you with pens, paper, and time.

With Love,
Your Scribes.

Ps: write back soon!