haiku stringlengths 5 2.3k | source stringlengths 1 74 |
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by night i found her where pent waves steal
but she lay stiff by the locked mill-wheel
and the old stars lived in their homes on high | img2poems |
surely you know that poultry if cooked right
will cure most common psychic ills
it's something to do with the feathers | img2poems |
even though they were only children
they agreed to draw no more breath
than fire requires and yet never to burn | img2poems |
also
a real purse in your hand is worth
two metaphorical purses over your mouth | img2poems |
a clementine
of inclement climate
grows tart | img2poems |
a crocus
too stoic to open
won't | img2poems |
solitude is helpless to dispel
questions as exceptionably vexed
as unaccountable love's unaudited accounts | img2poems |
better perhaps to be sorry than safe after all
seeing no security could enable
one to scale unscathed the inexorable stair | img2poems |
used to be in love
ho
hum | img2poems |
sickness health abundance lack
the salt in my wound
the shirt off your back | img2poems |
maybe swallowtail maybe moth: trust me i know
because once i was a baby blue convertible
but now i'm this black hot rod painted with flames | img2poems |
what he said was
if we saw the cops outside smoking cigars
that's when we'd know we had a stinker | img2poems |
such conflagration of souls
dawn in erewhon
corporeal cornucopia | img2poems |
to the land vaguely realizing westward
but still unstoried artless unenhanced
such as she was such as she would become | img2poems |
and now this little corner where he sat
need be no worse than any other
little corner of the universe | img2poems |
he too was happy
he too was glad
he wrote | img2poems |
now may all the players play
the river of the morning the morning of the river
flow out of the splendor of the tenderness of surrender | img2poems |
then shall the chief musician declare
the phoenix is the meaning of the fruit
until the dream is knowledge and knowledge is a dream | img2poems |
a trickle of water lit by the sun
i saw with an injured eye captive
music ran our legs and we danced | img2poems |
knees
bent asses all but on the floor love's
bittersweet largesse | img2poems |
come of late to creation's outskirts
rub's new muse a republic of none a
yet-to-be band the band we were | img2poems |
a hammer hit them each on the head
hammered heads rang and rang without
end | img2poems |
poetry
is the human voice
and are we not of interest to each other | img2poems |
three boys beyond their mother's call
two italians off to the sea
one sock that isn't anywhere you look | img2poems |
god climbs inside
asking for souls
something we weren't taught to share | img2poems |
this is the time
of the tragic man
that lies in the house of bedlam | img2poems |
erecting beyond the boundaries of all government his grand station and customs i find what i have made there a gate a staking out of his art in inconsequence
i have in mind a poetry that will frame the willingness of the heart and deliver it over to the arrest of time a sentence as if there could stand some solidity most spacial in its intent against the drifts and appearances that arise and fall away in time from the crude events of physical space
the mind alone holds the consequence of the erection to be true so that desire and imagination usurp the place of the invisible throne | img2poems |
not reading english
and hearing about a new english thriller
that hasn't been translated | img2poems |
come i'll trace you one final autumn
and you can trace your last homecoming
into the snow or the sun | img2poems |
thank you i smile
then i close the door
and never call him again | img2poems |
and you in his dinner portrait of you a friday fast
coveting his steak the enormous undesired fish
appearing to stay the same size however much you eat | img2poems |
i confess i could not be
woken or accept myself
to the river's basin to be washed | img2poems |
tonight the moon rises
from a ravine a spice drawer
of pickled ferment to feast | img2poems |
to the heart aflame the source
across this iced plain
the only material witness | img2poems |
she is trying to say something but her mouth
has been painted deliberately shut
her lips thin | img2poems |
ink runs from the corners of my mouth
there is no happiness like mine
i have been eating poetry | img2poems |
the librarian does not believe what she sees
her eyes are sad
and she walks with her hands in her dress | img2poems |
the poems are gone
the light is dim
the dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up | img2poems |
their eyeballs roll
their blond legs burn like brush
the poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep | img2poems |
she does not understand
when i get on my knees and lick her hand
she screams | img2poems |
i am a new man
i snarl at her and bark
i romp with joy in the bookish dark | img2poems |
suicide
a quitter
oh no | img2poems |
in the daytime i walk around with the ten
commandments on my lips
like an old tune someone hums to himself | img2poems |
i remember my father waking me for early prayers
he would do it by gently stroking my forehead not
by tearing away the blanket | img2poems |
you hear them while you wait and when the bus pulls up
finally and you get on
that was many years ago | img2poems |
she dances only in her necklace
scotch-lit surely
he touches his glasses | img2poems |
a good way to fall in love
is to turn off the headlights
and drive very fast down dark roads | img2poems |
another way to fall in love
is to say they are only mints
and swallow them with a strong drink | img2poems |
then it is autumn in the body
your hands are cold
then it is winter and we are still at war | img2poems |
not a car in sight
a cemetery seen from the air
all the obelisks you could ever ask for | img2poems |
frosty green through gray rising steeply
top of the bank a big top red with a sign
misty fantastical on the walk to school | img2poems |
you do less of
the sun
is too bright | img2poems |
yet all do still aver
the little babe lies buried there
beneath that hill of moss so fair | img2poems |
is love what we are
or has happiness come to me in a private car
that's so very small i'm amazed to see it there | img2poems |
the magic of numbers
how strange it was to hear the furniture being moved around in the apartment upstairs
i was twenty-six and you were twenty-two | img2poems |
flame is jealous of flame once lit it ever
reaches higher
you wait match-tip white whale | img2poems |
their voicing ceased then started again to complain
that we are offered nothing when it starts to rain
in the same way though we are dying for the truth | img2poems |
i couldn't tell anyone about this sight
each defeat
is sweet | img2poems |
they'll dart underground when you try to catch them
plunge into quicksand whirlpools mazes
turn into scorpions when you try to catch them | img2poems |
we all just
trying to leave
a mark | img2poems |
i will be waiting
to be with you
then | img2poems |
in my waking hour i see
the remnant of the war between
my head and heart | img2poems |
your footsteps in and out of the bedroom
your lips touching my cheek lightly
and the sound of the door shutting | img2poems |
in your light
i fall asleep again under the warm quilt
happily like a child | img2poems |
the mountains hid santa anas
the smog went orange with dusk the growing shadows
of lingering birds | img2poems |
a living museum
exist to be observed
never migrate but live then die under the dome | img2poems |
lips lashes eyes
from outside in
do beings magnify under the dome | img2poems |
then with no warning
flukes of three orcas
rise arc clear of sea water | img2poems |
you are the man who walked out
as he walked in the bomb went off
and you lived to tell | img2poems |
look out
fore
i hate you | img2poems |
they are called the dead who lived through their deaths
and among my people
they are considered wise and honest | img2poems |
they float out of their bodies
and light on the ceiling like a moth
watching the efforts of everyone around them | img2poems |
i used toxins and poisons
to make you immaculate
i wanted you perfect | img2poems |
i nailed a no-trespassing sign
and a big security light to your side
i sold pieces of you off | img2poems |
season after season you return
sap rising up from your roots
unfinished always becoming | img2poems |
i defended against love
for as long as i could
until i couldn't | img2poems |
roll on roll on roll on
tonight i'm wearing a red dress
under a man's honeyed mouths and tent | img2poems |
through sacred ceremony of living daily living
arose three distinct hopes three loves
out of the long felt nights and days of yesterday | img2poems |
no
so is it what she is said to have said that night
when she breathed a secret and put the whole room on stall | img2poems |
the private eye the girl with a shadowy past the old-style cop
and it's nigh-on certain she'll have to take a bullet
or we'll see her in prison blue as they lead her to the drop | img2poems |
his smell still on her reek of the barley mow
and hers on him which could have been sloe
or sweat and sandalwood but you'd be the one to know | img2poems |
how kind time is altering space
so nothing stays wrong and light
more new light always arrives | img2poems |
nothing remained: nothing the wanton name
that nightly i rehearsed till led away
to a dark sleep or sleep that held one dream | img2poems |
in this a huge contagious absence lay
more space than space over the cloud and slime
defined but by the encroachments of its sway | img2poems |
stripped to indifference at the turns of time
whose end i knew i woke without desire
and welcomed zero as a paradigm | img2poems |
and there there i am
alone in that night
hearing that door slam | img2poems |
and the word she mouths to herself as she looks up from her book for
that word as she repeats it
repeats it | img2poems |
nightmare of beasthood snorting how to wake
i woke
what beasthood skin she made me take | img2poems |
into what bulk has method disappeared
like ham streaked
i am gross grey gross flap-eared | img2poems |
oh a man's flesh already is in mine
hand and foot poised for risk
buried in swine | img2poems |
notes we pinned to the trees told him
we moved to another
island that forms the sound | img2poems |
we live in the sound
he found
our voices pinned to the trees | img2poems |
then the return to words
thought has taken a contract out on
in order to move them around | img2poems |
blind man anvil
no hammer strikes
your eyes are spikes | img2poems |
that's not humility you see on our long final journeys
it's procrastination
it hurts my heavy body to lie down | img2poems |
so let me cease my scribbling for to-day
and maiden turn thy lovely face this way
words will not do but haply kisses may | img2poems |
the cliff above where we stand is crumbling
and up on the palisades
the sidewalks buckle like a broken conveyer belt | img2poems |
we walk back to the car
and take the top down for the ride home
through the early mist | img2poems |
where you live beyond the facts
of what your body has given you
as the first taste of death | img2poems |
consequences emerge when a man and desire
are part of the words we hurl you
changing how you mean loving this terrible final news | img2poems |
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