Steadfast tradition
of group inebriation
the piper plays now

no no no no no
no no no no maybe no
no no no no no`

Under the dense earth
Preserved bones undiscovered
Revealing secrets

the door is open
she urinates in full view
the romance is gone

oh the scenary
drops of words like eggs in pans
yellow to enjoy

in the train station,
a pigeon flies heavy
through the crowd

Every now and then
Hold a beautiful woman
Take your pleasure then

A faraway laugh
Reminds of times long gone
Times remembered

In a fascist state
A Woman's voice sings sweetly
A policeman's wife

Worrior Seville
Who used to beat friends father
Riffle butts in face

Hard to remember
I was young and handsome
then
It's so long ago

Have i regrets though?
"Yes" wasted years on Ego
Should have learned to dance

All the young woman
Who I now hold in my arms
Are out of my reach

sat in a bar
last nights red wine
dry on my lips

no haiku today
haven't got time to write one
maybe tomorrow

morbid, cheap t-shirt
reminder of a past fling
worn today, a skull

dream reality
like death under my nostril
puke under pillow

dull vacuous eyes
psychologically crippled
at home in the void

life's not a joke but
it goes down best with a
bit of shared laughter

the world keeps spinning
no matter tragedy or
triumph, it just goes on

Strong bright metallic
Early Morning Spring Sunshine
Washing out colours

I'm trying to read a
man, henry miller who's thoughts
were sex in writing?

I like this tactful
elegance to a degree
which was hard to see

rebels have to have
rules often to feel that there's
a cause for their acts

the rules are often
elegant but there's reasons
why some folks rebel

controversy is
a strong disagreement with
something, and it's life

Sex is exquisite
"Fuck" is such an ugly word
To make love is good

"Fuck" is over used
Suspect those who use the word
Have bever made love

(Except do it yourself)

Five Syllables first
The second line is Se7en
Finish with Five more

Haiku made easy
First and third lines are of Five
Line two is Seven

people try to be
cool but miss out on the pleasure
of who they are

the threat is the speech
of an unkempt child mind that
is mad for cookies...

beeatch, get me an oreo
brotha, I'm real ghetto

the world follows scripts
of subculture and the law
of wild baboon man

I tend to think that
if they grow up maybe just
think, "boy that was dumb"

abuse your chidlren
break their soft little fingers
so they cannot type

so proud of you dear
high roads and low rides just dirt
i say love em all

the barn
swimming in a sea
of wind blown leaves

empty baseball field
a robin hops along
the bench

in my medicine cabinet
the winter fly has died
of old age

after the shower
amongst the drenched roses
the bird thrashing in a bath

drunk as a hoot owl
writing letters
by thunderstorm

holding up my purring cat
to the moon
i sigh

no telegram
today
only leaves fell

the tree
looks like dogs
barking to heaven

well here i am
two pm
what day is it

An obvious fact
One that cannot be denied
Haiku has purpose

The night, black as pitch
Suddenly, the sky is bright
Flash! A star has died.

so i add one more
thought, I've grown with loss and am
not so care free now

the words spit out at
a pace the mind works at and
no structure is found

some folks are hyper
i am, and their thoughts go fast
but peace makes great sense

tangential thought blocks
at max acceleration
derail my fast train

rain drops on glass
weave wind furrowed tracks
like sperm to the womb

sat in this bar -
last nights wine
dry on my lips

fussy hairs
cover a spectacled
cock

the star built enough
gases upon gases..til
Kablammy it burst

there's a lot of short
bursts of energy waiting
to come out in words