Light from a prism
Moves along my bedroom wall —
My sun’s opened eye.
The sonnet sequence, "My Human Disguise," of 630 ekphrastic poems, was begun February 2011. It can be found beginning with the January 20, 2022 post and working backwards. Going forward are 20 poems called "Terzata," beginning on January 27, 2022. Fifty Terzata can be found among the links on the right. A new series of dramatic monologues follows on the blog roll, followed by a series of formal poems, each based on a single word.
Light from a prism
Moves along my bedroom wall —
My sun’s opened eye.
Temptation does not walk on legs
As long and thin as giraffe stilts.
It stomps like an elephant on eggs
Until it's churned a mess of guilt.
All the old men are full of denial,
As if that's all it took to be godly.
The Office is an empty trial
And determination works, oddly,
Better than love, if all you want
Is to know physical love, riches,
Hatred — sick powers of the tyrant.
I love how the hair shirt itches.
Haiku, 9/9/26
I think each wave is
New — unlike any other —
But I’m not a wave.
Haiku, 9/10/26
The lake horizon
Is a perfectly straight line —
It closes my eyes.
Haiku, 9/11/26
I watch the lake shore
Through bare trees and square windows —
Water floods the house.
Haiku, 9/12/26
The wind’s strong today —
Gull flotillas ride the waves —
Vanish between them.
Haiku 2, 9/12/26
There’s no more to say
About our time on the beach —
The sand says, “Go home.”
And from September 19, 2022
All gray and white, gulls,
Lake, and clouds. The banished sun
Slashed the horizon.
Haiku, 9/12/26
The wind’s strong today —
Gull flotillas ride the waves —
Vanish between them.
Haiku, 9/11/26
I watch the lake shore
Through bare trees and square windows —
Water floods the house.
I sweep spiky beech
Tree shells from the lake house porch —
Shih-te laughs at me.
Note: Shih-te is an eccentric Zen figure always depicted with a broom and laughing, usually with his friend Hanshan.