adaptations bland
o'neill and the rest are hams
concoct seminal

mourning elected
a derelict reflection
i'm not Electra

but will you slay the
world serpent with mjolnir
and raise the dead now?

I will climb Fuji.
I will surf a tsunami.
All this in heaven.

it is worth going
on but sometimes not in the
place where we are now

I don't like haiku.
So why am I even here?
Off to the strip club.

Lap dances are fun.
I'll bring a change of undies.
Can't let the wife know.

Oh, damn the glitter.
And the reek of cheap perfume.
I just might get caught.

Fuck it, I'm going!
I'll say the glitter is from
My six-year-old's art.

I hate you bad prick,
I will never eat your beans.
Passing gas hard, ouch.

but then again I
have never written a piece
of writing I have

enjoyed when I felt
I had to prove something to
folks I'm writing to.

do you enjoy your writing?

well my dear sir, if
we had the female body
and personae I

will bet each one of
us would be a little less
"competing" haikus

but isn't buddhism all
about letting shit like this
all go, to nothingness?

I never met a
man obsessessed with the "meta"
who wasn't fretting

merry are the few
who tune in with some routine
filler syllables

perennial warmth
and the occasional darth
home is where you hang

dum dum dum daa daa
daa, daa, daa, daa, dum dum dum
DUM!! DUM!! DUM!!! (boston

pops vader theme there)

Dingleberry pie.
Goes well with Starbucks' coffee.
Munch, munch, munch, sluuurp... Aaaahhhhh.

damn it, we're going
to have to buy you a new
whiskey tumbler now

we give you some time
and we can keep company
to you as world turns

blot the seeping drool
and cast the whiskey tumbler
in the fireplace

now my ass itches
for I've sat upon it long
blast, mighty trumpet

grievous enemy
absence overwhelms presence
stand up and engage

if/when I portray
losses indescribable
revoke my license

I've penned of heartache
and indignity and shame
vainglory and blame

my two beloved
perished within these two years
art can't encompass

is there argument
great pain causes great art, then
how does that explain

50 shades of grey?
I applaud those who can read
through such a thing which

must be an act of
endurance, but to taste some
people like to eat beets

oh crap I like beets
and beats

you russians have it
in for the japs after the
1905 war huh...

then when all seems at
rest something comes out to throw
more disorder in

the whole world can just
go nuts all at once and the
system crashes down

I am not a shark.
I refuse to eat raw fish.
It is too stinky.

Here's a new idea:
Wasabi nasal spray tube.
vhs up first. ;-)

Seriously though,
I effing luuu-uuuv sushi!
I'll eat it all day!

My novel has a Jap nuclear terror twist in it... read now. ;-)

well we watch anime
read manga, practice zen, play
nintendo, and drive

subarus whilst we
eat sushi, giant robots
manga my sensei

gaijin poetry
pirated from nippon, sure
but who won the war ?

:)

and the book on my
desk is about marquis de
sade, boring really

have more fun watching anthony
bourdain going places, he's cool

Sudoku, haiku,
sushi, bizarre fetishes...
I am Japanese!

password codes causing
fetishes? and I thought girls
wearing rubber...well...

can't ya spare a few?
at least you'll be off your knees
and free of Mrs.

fetishes abound
identify the sources
and miss orgasms

resume prurience
my van is luxuriant
care to step inside?

I clamber right on
peripheral vision off
you cryptic dipshits

captcha "codes" distract
sublimating my lewdness
into something else

Effing Cut and paste doesn't work!

Lips Like Bombs

Morning hue on your face. Lips like bombs caressing mine to yours all things pass. Waiting by the tracks, you said "Meet me there".

Take me for a drive to somewhere I know not. Let the fear drain away. Breathed on by the mother you are mine alone.

Waiting by the house for what they said was mine. In the end we all die.

Lips Like Bombs

Morning hue on your face. Lips like bombs caressing mine to yours all things pass. Waiting by the tracks. You said

Lips Like Bombs

Morning hue on your face. Lips like bombs caressing mine to yours all things pass. Waiting by the tracks. You said

My haiku's are weak
Some of them are very bleak
Few are very chic

although Nimoy said
he was not spock, yet he was
in two different books

raises his eyebrow
no I'm irish german, no
pointed ears, green blood

well Leonard Cohen
is not Leonard Nimoy but
we could say jews, both

men, the poet is
Cohen, the writer, singer
logical no doubt

I am not sure where
I heard the Gesture of those
people of vulcan

was the same gesture
made by rabbis on yom kippur
for their people's sins

argue if you wish
but if the force is with you
live long and prosper

yeah vulcan turned
into a singularity
was not my style

I smelled a horse fart.
Glorious reminiscing.
Galloping through grass.

Team doesn't matter.
Though the new stuff was ruined.
By J.J Abrams

so old or new star
trek, and why does it matter
if it does at all?

grits teeth...spoiled brats need
to sink or swim, because if
spoiled brats are in charge...

2008 all over again