April 2009
37 posts
A cloudy Spring day—
Still the busy male Goldfinch
burns bright bright yellow.
—Gaippe
Hearing the birds sing,
feeling the warm moist air—
Springtime treat.
—Gaippe
Bright yellow finches
fly over the deep green grass—
Spring color contrast.
—Gaippe
Spring has sprung,
the grass is rizz,
I wonder where them flowers is?
—Credit: someone else, not me—just a favorite.
After gentle rain,
sitting in meditation—
Peepers sing outside.
—Gaippe
After the rain goes—
open window, evening air,
train in the distance.
—Gaippe
Exhaust clouds waft by
the big trucks are warming up—
Early morning breeze.
—Gaippe
More of my peculiar life
A while ago, I wrote this haiku:
Reading my haiku to the cat— He looks away.
When people come to visit, one of our cats always greets them, and they ask, “Oh, is this the haiku critic?” And I have to explain that no, that’s the other cat who is currently hiding under covers on our bed in the other room. He doesn’t like anything new or different or out of the...
More of my peculiar life
“Why does every guy in this office want to sleep with her?” she asked. “I don’t see it.”
“Well,” he said, “not every guy.”
“Oh, yeah, so who doesn’t want to?”
“Um, me for one.”
“Uh huh, so who do you want to sleep with?” she asked, perhaps a bit too quickly.
He looked right at her, but said...
More of my peculiar life
“Look,” he said, bursting into the cooking magazine’s test kitchen, “Next time you put sample cookies in the break room, make an announcement over the company intercom. I refuse to humiliate myself by licking the empty plate… again.”
Paw over his eyes
blocking the lamp’s waking light—
the cat snores softly.
—Gaippe
Two glasses of wine
with dinner and my head swims—
Time to write haiku.
—Gaippe
In bed together
in love, warm, breathing gently—
Outside, a spring wind.
—Gaippe
The bottoms of my shoes
are clean
from walking in the rain.
— Jack Kerouac
Crab grass survives
pesticides and winter cold—
But not my preference.
—Gaippe
Windows open—In
the warm evening air of spring
the interstate sings.
—Gaippe
Hail pummels the car,
slams hard against the windows—
Thunder too? why not.
—Gaippe
not seeing
the room is white
until that red apple
—Anita Virgil
Waves wash over the bow,
icy water burns the face—
Orange horizon.
—Gaippe
Annoy the cat—Pet
it with the same hand just used
to pet the other cat.
—Gaippe
after the quake
adding I love you
to a letter
—Michael Dylan Welch
Sometimes I feel
like I don’t want to feel
anything at all.
—Gaippe
Eyes barely open,
cat takes in its surroundings—
Decides on a bath.
—Gaippe
Old magazine in the waiting room,
doctor after the exam—
Same advice.
—Gaippe
Winter snow
falls in April—
Impatience ensues.
—Gaippe
Trying to sleep
an hour before the alarm,
cat snuggles against my legs.
—Gaippe
Past is memory,
the future is fantasy—
All there is is now.
—Gaippe
In the examination room
waiting for the doctor.—
Meadowlark sings outside.
—Gaippe
Breathe in others’ suffering,
breathe out the antidote—
Tonglen: practice compassion.
—Gaippe