Haiku
your hand
touches mine ...
rainy clouds
wet grass
the smell of summer
in our coupled body
Valentine's Day
he lies in bed staring
at the ceiling
when thinking of
her...
a June frog half-opens
its thick eyelids
Mr. Good Enough
or Mr. Right? she ponders...
Valentine's gift
my fingers
finally discover her folds
spring dawn
hydrangea—
when thinking of her
flower heart
the azure sky
in your eyes—
smell of blueberries
steam rising
from a hotpot for one
Valentine's Eve
Valentine's Day he makes love
to the bottle
Tanka
bathed
in a cascade
of moonbeams
I think of her ways—
tender yet daring
you cry out
we've traveled on parallel paths
wait for me
where the earth touches the sky
I plead
surfing
the waves of memories
I listen intently
to the ebb and flow
of your whispers
three thousand
miles apart
divide everything—
we see the opposite sides
of the same full moon
your face
photographed
by my mind's eye
remains a delight to me
though 30 years have passed by
I wish
I could land on you
in the guise
of a ghost
like Swayze did to Moore
gazing
through my naked eyes
at your wrinkled face
you are the same woman
I married before the altar
my heart
heated red
in secret passion
for she casts her glances
unashamedly
the autumn moon
hangs over my window
rippling the lake
of my mind --
her smiling face
I spring
into the air
trying to grasp
the white tail
of your departing plane
Tanka
Sequence
Bloody
Valentine's Eve
drawn to
the smell of the dark night
I go out
and lie down naked...
inch by inch enveloped in its scent
as night deepens
I hunger for the blood
of the lonely
disguised as Cupid
I shoot arrows into their hearts
Cherita*
bathed in
moonlight
I wash in
each scent you left behind
baptized in them
I become born-again
a poet speaking in tongues
faint mist,
gloomy clouds
sorrow surrounds the day
who can take a poem
beyond the Pacific
a calligraphy of geese
flies against the sky
*A narrative short
verse form derived from the haiku and tanka traditions