Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Sending Her Away To College

Farewells made by the bus,
It's finally time to leave,
Depart from being one of us,
With tearful hugs we grieve...
The moment's heavy, sadly-sweet,
Yet, dare we hope that fate will weave,
Another chance for us to meet.

Look To The Ant

Hard work, with technical vision...
Human rationality presides,
Business rules, followed with precision,
In accordance with corporate decisions...
To make things we don't know we need,
To feed what can't be filled inside...
Led by appetite, we proceed,
Like ants developing insecticide.

(Thanks to John D. MacDonald for the inspiration)

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Slow Train

I decide against the express...
"Slow the pace, delay the stress"
I think to myself, as I step on board
The slow train to the southern place
Where work awaits -- My office space,
Where ennui, angst, and pens are stored.

Lover's Real Moment

I gaze at her closely,

She looks back at me intimately,

So who farted?

54 & Topped Off

There comes a time, where you know,
(And you don't let it ruin your day)
That you've reached your professional plateau,
And maxed-out your annual pay...

It's no use to get depressed,
Rather, turn the thought on its head,
And toast those things
For which you're blessed,
Then pay your taxes 'till you're dead...

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Kingyo No Fun (Goldfish Poop)

Following the famous and powerful
We trail,
Like the poop
Behind the goldfish tail...

Hollowing-out our dreams
and desire,
Just carry the briefcase
And don't dare tire...

Oh joyous is the powerful man,
Who does what he does, because he can.

And woe to us who follow his wake,
Meek-loyally, for a paycheck's sake.

Couples' Fate

Marriage isn't all it seems,
Sleep in the same bed,
But with different dreams.

You hope you reach,
Before love ends,
A place where
Both of you are friends.

And if you don't, of course,
Push the button
Marked "divorce"...

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Drone's Day

All hail Father's Day...
The gift of hard-swimming sperm
Diminished from the moment of conception,
The shrinking joy of post-erection,
Duty done, the pregnancy goes to term.
All hail Father's Day...
Dues paid to natural selection,
And debts to settle, we've yet to earn.

Forgetting To Call

The phone calls not made
Oh so busy, chances missed,
Opportunity unplayed,
Remembered now with regret
Like a lover left unkissed,
Small obligations left unmet,
Kind connections all delayed,
Lost in a mental mist.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Rainy Season Skies

The sky of a transitory season
At once neither sunny nor gray
Breeze, cool-humid, in a middling way
Makes me wonder if there's a reason
For mixing things up, like today.

Suspended in moistness, tail-end of spring,
Circling, soft-wafting, the vernal swirl,
Before the cruel heat that summer will bring.


A state of dreamy tranquility
Called kef, by the Arabs of old,
Who meditated in deserts,
Cleansed by the heat and the cold.

ElzoHarm Art (No.10)

The Flow Of Time

The days go by so quickly
Each numbered and distinct,
Full of promise, spiced with fear,
Streaming and linked...
A string of experience,
Right now, and right here.

And it's all that I can do
To savor sweet moments
Before they play through...

Middle Age Spread

Curious, I stop, dripping wet,
I'm panting, it's hot,
But can't see the pedometer
Because of my gut...
The old friend I've built-up
Over the years,
With burgers and beers,
A simple arrangement
Of needs to appease,
Gastric epiphanies
With bacon and cheese...
But now I must run
and grunt 'till I'm able
To put down the fork
And see past my navel.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

A Statement About Today's Poetry

A poet runs-out of dreams and time,
Words frozen, the bad just goes to worse,
Can't find the inspiration or rhyme,
And settles for the easier way of free verse.


The gift of finding
Valuable or agreeable things
Not sought for...
Like peace amidst war,
Or five golden rings...

A gift once received,
Leaves one asking for more,
Serendipity perceived,
Like a karmic whore.

Monday, June 7, 2010

Dream Sequence 6/7/2010

I'm at a meeting hall, seated at the back,
Up at the front sits Marilyn Monroe,
With familiar man, whose name I don't know.
It's a meeting about money,
They want us to give,
But there is something funny
Going on, and when I interject,
Marylin's pose is wrecked
She whimpers and accuses,
The mood grows sad, hearts ache,
And that's when I wake.

Saturday, June 5, 2010


「早くやれ”」 "Hayaku yare"
そう言う事は So iu koto wa
早く言え Hayaku ie

"Hurry-up and do it"
If that's the case then
Hurry-up and say it.

- - - - - - - - - -

露天風呂 Roten-buro  
化粧落として Kesho otoshite
トドの群れ Todo no mure

Outdoors bath
Without their make-up
A pack of walruses

- - - - - - - - - -

妻不満 Tsuma fuman 
夫我慢 Otto gaman
50年 Go-ju nen

The wife dissatisfied
The husband enduring
50 years.

- - - - - - - - - -

赤提灯 Aka cho-chin
会議の時より Kaigi yori
意見出る Iken deru

At the "Red-lamp" pub
Vice the office meeting...
Here I can say my opinion

- - - - - - - - - -

メル友に Me-ru tomo
会ってみたら Atte mitara
わが主人 Waga shu-jin

Blind date with an "e-mail friend"...
But when we meet,
It's my husband.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Hunting For Osama

They sit, solidly, on their Cornhusker bar stools,
Facing a great wall of bottles and glass,
Talking and bragging of things from the past,
Toasting the blood, and the heroes, and fools,
Dispersed to dangerous places afar,
With names like Kabul and Qandahar.

The alcohol flows -- mostly cheap lager beer,
Which engorges and cleanses, inspires, inflames,
As the red-necks remember the deeds and the names
Of those, over there, who used to be here...
Putting up hay, riding John Deere,
Chasing their daughters from back-seat to bed...
Then opting for bloody adventure instead,
They've left home to hunt for an evil man,
In the soul-crushing hills of Afghanistan.

There's a point where the guys at the bar take a pause,
The beer-buzz has peaked, but it sure did its job
Of pushing the button, and pulling the knob,
Stoking the feelings and tightening the jaws...

The farmers commune with their boys gone afar,
To the places called Kabul and Qandahar.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

The Resignation Of Prime Minister Hatoyama

It's lonely at the top.
And you never hear,
The trap-door drop.

In the end, what what really hurts...
Was all that bile,
About my shirts.