holding your cool hands
i wade through life's murky swamps
leeches suck my blood

I like the cold thanks
But please just take away the
Dreaded hated wet.

knocked over by waves
barnacles deglove my flesh
my blood flows freely

forgot a "k" to anonymous poet. with the 'k', it goes:



exposing ourselves,
with all our bad haiku words,
i like what you think

exposing ourselves,
with all our 'bad haiku' words,
i like what you thin,

throughout my home town,
crow agency, montana,
songs and stories live!

Quality's been good
'round here lately... Remember
This is *bad* haiku

:-)

her brown-eyed tears
appear as i read haiku
that touched a sweet heart

my wife braids my hair,
in shade from this Crow Sun Lodge:
TODAY I SUN DANCE!

gasping for life's breath,
your heart whispers in my ear,
"i'll always love you"

i'll wait on the moon,
staring at the Green Planet
until you return

the living culture
of the Crow Tribe of Indians,
fades from corruption

Unbelievable
Seven degrees and sunny
In January

More Crow Indian Stabs at Haiku


all molded from dirt,
soils and man's colors come
from Mother Earth's womb


rising from repose,
moonlight relflects our pleasure
within your nude eyes


indian children cry
with fear, when drunken parents
start fighting again


on this river's bank,
thoughts of suicide vanish,
when i feel haiku

Kegels are a squeeze
Beagle lying on sofa
One, two, three, four, squeeze!

Tinkle in the stream,
carry my relief down to
campers unaware.

In an ancient grove,
the stag lifts his mighty head.
Memories resound.

Swallowed upside-down
Peristalsis in effect
Vocab. calendar

Soiled self-expression
I keep it in a small pot
Underneath my bed

A small duet hums
Bees loiter under flowers
Gathering their haul

Spring sets in blossom
The Ancient god, she awakes
Raindrops softly fall

'tis january
that means rain, rain, rain and rain
then february.

Icing on my car
Glistens in the morning sun
Winters gift to me

Stinging ice-cold rain
Winds work into small stanzas
Black cold winter

Memories call me
Autumn smells of burning leaves
Sweet fragrant odours

Winter soon will run
Quietly, spring walks on earth
Fragrant woods awake

Organic wino,
Thinking? Or just will-o-wisps?
I strive in my way

Emerald City
Welcome to Seattle, friend
Hope you like it wet

Quotidian dreams
Of some Floridian streams.
Retire in Vegas!

Of relationships
Love is the epitome
Of dependency
*
A naked body
Has vulnerability
Purely animal
*
This dependency
Lets you free to be yourself
The human ideal
*
This one expression
Closest you will ever be
To another soul

Politicians:
three year old children
fingers into everything
rectify nothing

Sang karaoke
I was awful, really bad
Sound like Robin Gibb

Yup, you

Krazee-Eyez Killa:
"The floor's made of ... some floor shit."
I'm paraphrasing.

We

It is my birthday
I send myself a small card
Such unasked for joy

Cherry red splashes
Ripe cherries bounce in wind
Summer filled baskets

Don

twig ends swell
red awaiting green
bird watching

Big Mac please. Thank you
for eating at MacDonald's,
and now wash your hands.

We walk all around
Seeking our transportation
"Dude, where is my car?"

The hills are quite dead
Totally without the sound
Of all the music

strange noise, I blame dog,
family not buying story
quack, it was the duck.

All in white, the snow
commands a circle atop
the sacred mountain.

seasoned actors
reading through the script of life
question every line

I look for the signs.
Green happiness calls to me.
Spring can

Embarrassing state
Movements watched critically
Keen eyes scrutinize

pretty jobless now
as you can probably tell
waiting for bonus.

yesterday hot hot
welcome to singapura
heat's equally bad.