storm you are so black
i am so empty
storm you are powerful
i curled up quiet
storm if i could touch your electricity
and send my atoms to rest
killing word haiku
the venomous words
eject from a prickly tongue
the heart hides itself
eight and three is 11
8 moons and 3 Sputniks
i see tonight while standing
outside deep breathing
the news shows
bleeding from my neighbor’s window
tomorrow i will rise
get caffeinated
and get on the road
to imagine what it’d be like
if i could fly in outer space
old punk kid haiku
Danzig belts it out
my dark scrapbooks lay across
open to my life
bitter haiku
i don’t need a soul
you as you have shown me that
love i divorce you
mural by LA Street Artist
grieving haiku
tears evaporate
leaving behind memories
i stand on wet sand
twisted spine
my back is my strength
i sit with the moon at might
we both speak softly
in Echo Park
only with age can i see myself in those children running and laughing in the womb of the summer night
they
only about a pound heavier than the great water lily pads laying quietly upon the whispers of the koi fish rising to the surface of the pond blowing kisses to the moon
anticipation haiku
the thoughts are balled up
pulsating and cruel they come
tonight my eyes weep
just another day
just another day
there are things
that are meant
to he secret
there are codes
that are followed
and no one
knows the meaning
or how the
human drama will
be played out
perhaps there will
be murder or
the sale of
drugs there will
be money to
be made no
matter what the
cost of it
words less spoken 