I've walked so many roads
with hopes and dreams in tow,
only to crash headlong
into end after dead end.
Disheartened, I now approach
each new road
tentatively
with less hope
and fewer dreams.

If I had the music,
I would have my song.
These words would have their melody,
and feel like they belong.

I've tried to force the notes,
and arrange the song myself.
The music never fits
and leaves me where I started.

I long for someone to
surround my words with music,
write what I can't write,
and complete with me this song.

I know I said I wasn't going to post any more poems until the book was released (which is long overdue), but this is a special one.



I know a man whose face has seen more
than its share of sweat and tears.
Behind his eyes reside years of worry and
concern.
This man’s hands speak of cuts and
bruises too many to number.
He is often exhausted of energy and
resources.

I know a man who works harder and
loves deeper than any other.
Behind his eyes I see this
love − unconditional and limitless.
This man’s hands routinely build
masterpieces where nothing once
existed.
He gives selflessly to others without
recompense.

I know this man.
This man is my father.

slow and silently
gliding across the blue sky
piles of white cotton

a golden ribbon
snakes along the edge of white
a silver lining

crunch crunch is the sound
that echoes in the silence
walking in the snow

the haiku fairy
will visit Leah tonight
insp'ration galore

glistening bodies
of gray and white playfully
show us dolphin glee

the ocean thirsts for
uses its wet tongue to
lap at the seashore

above the rushing
pounding crashing waters is
peaceful rising mist

willingly water
flows toward the nearing edge
reckless abandon

ocean breeze whispers
softly through my hair quiet
secrets of the deep

rolling cresting now
the waves reach for sandy feet
but come up just short

loud as a water-
fall in his mind was the tear
that rolled from her eye

I lost my friend,
And then
I found them
later.
But they weren't
my friend.

Tired people sit still in silence
arranged and neatly stacked
in rows of four and columns of two.
Each row follows madly the one ahead of it,
whisking its passengers away from the city of wind.
Worn faces look mostly down or nowhere at all,
while heads bob and sway.
Flashes of light appear and slide and disappear,
but no one notices.

I heard the crack
      and saw jagged edges
      poking the air.
A tear traced my little
     cheek and hung from
     my trembling chin.

I broke my pencil.

Misting shallows silent stay
ghost flees the day

Facelessphantomhidesbehind
mask of beauty white

Silence...the angel sings
not of the light

tick . . . tick . . . tick

train clacks by
slacker keeps time

tick . . . . tick . . . . tick

q u i c k e r q u i c k q u i c k e r
slacker                   slacks                   slower

tick . . . . . . tick . . . . . . tick

quicker greets slacker

tick . . . . . . . . . . tick . . . . . . . . . . tick

Dum, dum, dum, dum
dance, dance circle
dance, dance circle
Dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum
foot hop foot
foot hop foot
Dum, dum, dum, dum
repeat indefinitely

Dum, dum, dum, dum
el cric ec nad, ec nad
elcric ecnad, ecnad
Dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum
to ofp oht oof
toof poh toof
Dum, dum, dum, dum
ylet anif edni ta eper

The world rings through
sliced in two
sits
on
pool-
ing
stem below

Surrounded
with sea of self-
creation
Water-
falls
of
tapestries
flow from my
fingers
rushing
down
the
walls
of my captivity
splashing to shape the earth
beneath
in ripples
and waves

dn down
rotate
around
flip-flop
found