[x]

purple venetian
of wisteria
float o'er the prow,
scattering clouds
as you come to me

QuicksilverYellow streetlights bleak
wearing necklaces of rain-
pearls against the streak
of finger painted windows
overlaid
with quicksilver brocade
and nests of spider eggs.

Where once this place
was abandoned, in a room
the creak of floor boards
drowned by thunder's boom,
revealed
by shadow and lightning strobe,
paint-by-number puddles trace

around two who sleep sound
in the aftermath
of their heated tryst
that causes the panes
to mist
and condensate.
Moisture trickles down

brittle wallpaper paste
and folds of stained flesh
amidst mottled reflections
as the sound of rumbling
deep
in the sagging rafters
stumbles, tumbli

Out-Patient Tanka1

doctor appointment
I'm late,
and running
cold air wracks my lungs-
the irony!

2

bright morning
dark thoughts-
passing time
having tea in the
cafeteria

3

after my scan
I assist
a blind woman-
she's next,
and I forget my pain

4

for the nurses' station
I bring cookies
and regret
it isn't
something healthy

5

anxious to park,
drivers' tempers
in contrast
to accepting fate
in a private ward

6

basement lab
in the bowels
of the hospital,
I drop off
jars of my urine

7

I smile,
rushing through
Emergency's lounge,
their Christmas tree
is still up

HaikuWriMo 2009, Feb 1-28

1
the cheshire cat's
grin-
crescent moon

2
serenading
from a rusted whirligig-
the last cricket

3
kite bones-
autumn still
in the trees

4
morning riot
bursting from the eaves-
pigeons!

5
holding my breath,
the warm air
of rain threatens

6
a man's hand
fingers curled in death-
dried leaves

7
thunderclap!
a cat panics
across the roof

night deluge-
come morning
shriveled worms

8
windows
shutting out the chill-
moonlight spills in

9
ice age-
my feet against his

10
after a downpour-
detour sign
pointing home

11
zen dawn-
ducks
contemplating puddles

12
frozen moon-
dogs cruise the street
in a wake

craneo de un caballoSoon it was clear that the moon
was a horse's skull,
and the air, a dark apple.

The gearshift shudder of
a heavy-laden truck fades,

all the while, the
sustained drone of bees;

past their prime and sluggish,
their wings cannot be stilled.

A dull glint behind the eyes
of a yoked pair of oxen,

standing at a crossroad
between myself and the fields

that bake in the August
of a Spanish sun,

waiting for the
hammer and anvil to sing,

for the echoing refrain
of rifle shots beyond

a stand of distant trees
shimmering from spent cartridges

in the waning afternoon
of your exquisitely curved spine.

Haikuthon July 1-31, 2009

1 tanka

the hope of
summer rain vanishes
leaving
a neighbor's dog
to water the roses

2 haiku

heat wave chasing
all the birds and blues
from the sky

3 tanka

a cloud of gnats
follows
a child's sno-cone
through
the petting zoo

4 haiku/senryu

old mission archway
black birds napping
in ascending order

5 tanka

lunch at the beach,
businessmen strip
and wade into
childhood

6 haiku

looking out to sea
the sky walks a fine line

7 haiku renga

air ballet
on the breakwater...
fishermen and gulls

under the pier
bait in a plastic pail
holding their breath

8 haiku/senryu

still seeking shade,
mating crabs in the shallows

9 haiku

the

Whispers

"Whispers"

lovers and their touch-
incoming waves
spent
against the curves
of shoreline

lovers and their whispers-
foam washes into an
abandoned conch,
holding
their secrets

lovers and their passion-
sea lions
call to each other
as swells roll in from
deep waters

lovers and their song-
floating above sunrise,
gull cries echo
again and again
into sunset

lovers and their dreams-
midnight ocean calm,
a shooting star meets
another
shooting star

Autumn Senryu I1

soccer ball out of bounds
kids run
for the ice cream truck

2

in the park
dried pine needles
where grass once grew

3

pendulum-
old man's crotch
swings in his baggy trunks

4

out of business-
empty roach eggs
in dishwater scum

5

tackle box-
the ciggies Dad left
ten years ago

crow comes courtingresplendent in a black gloss
of feathered robes...

crow's morning clicks of courtship
echo through downcast mists that
bead upon bowed shoreline willows

and genuflect in the wake
of his purposeful strut
one hesitant step before the next,

his head cocked this way and that,
listening as distant ticks
message back a reply-

the visage of his agenda
suddenly unfolds in a wingspread
that lifts above a watery canvas,

the guttural sound of pulled
stitching sends love notes receding
into estuaries, and ripples

where tadpoles skip and dart
beneath lily pads in the random and
rapid blink of each tiny vortex

TreasuresIntrospective on this night
I thought I might
take a sentimental stroll
through some family momentos

Finding photos that show
when I wasn't big at all
visiting my great-aunt Ro'
who lived up from the pier

Wooden stairs painted white
with rails on either side
leading to an open porch
fronting a clapboard house

Built before the 20's-
how the screen door creaked,
the rooms dimly lit within
and always kept neat as a pin

Curled in my chair to recall
the old music I'd hear-
a distant echo all alone
from far down the hall

Polished floors and walls
and ceilings shone of
daylight from a window
at the back where it ended

The pa

River DreamWhere I exist
the seasons linger
or die too soon

I cannot see
the subtle changes
or hear the cadence

I feel the shift
and taste the residue
between our lips

and on the air
where
it also lingers

his passing
will bring the rain
but I covet him more

suspended as we are
between the seasons

and when the dusk
is touched by
the brows of moths
he will walk away

a harbinger
of autumn's end
before it has begun

while I drift
a river dream
over which
a new moon ascends...

an oar dips silently
and I shiver

Epochghostly scatterings of blackbirds-
hallucinations in their wake,
like the low-lying fog
below the clouds

just before rain comes
and plays blues in the streets,
filling the gutters
where uranium fish glow,

while in blows the sweet scent
of new grass and sage, secreted
in the alleys of abandoned chaos
that cover bygone seasons
of attempt and loss-

the baritone of wind through
the nostrils of the old tree
where I stand under its limbs
of sparse buds
(perhaps the last year)

to a chorus of knuckles cracking
from the slow heavy drips on
the hood of my Mackintosh;

a yellow jacket flying amidst
the gray morn

Haikuthon July 200931st---

sun glare -

every last drop gone

from the bowl

30th---

orchids fade

in the evening gloom

gibbous moon

29th---

night stroll

through the rain

the sound of rain

28th---

returning sun -

the crow's caw also

turns to gold

27th---

movement of air -

leaves shed a slew

of the morning's rain

26th---

no war here -

vapour flits over

a mug of tea

25th---

budleias sway

by the church voices whisper

of her strained marriage

24th---

tidal mist

a stone the shape of

an arrowhead

23rd---

unfolding the tissue

a butterfly

made of snot

22nd---

rain presses down these burdened bones

21st---

out at sea

a wave strokes pa

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More from `jade-pandora

chalicesingular of my caste-
the sins of existence,
unbecoming by faith
in the daylight of the living

my body a chalice;
the wine (my blood) I offer afar,
phantom betrothed;
how gaunt I've become-
my pallor seems beautiful

a pact by choice,
a sip in return-
I prefer it this way,
forbidden and forgotten,
than not at all

a breathless vow in secret;
don't say it aloud, and
never here, my intended,
for we may disappear

we are alone among so many
as we despair
(life, like cloth, will tear)
while we try to hope,
and are content

Wellspringpalest hues outline
the eastern horizon-
his deep-throated warbling
rises with the prayers
of early morning

the light from which
has yet to permeate the
curtain at his window
or her hair swaying
a slow genuflection

stirring the air
warm from damp skin
and the exchange
of their breath
within that sanctuary-

of muted vision
wherein the blurred
flight of sparrows
can be seen circling
within her dark eyes

till the sable veil lifts
from a thousand seams,
and thrills at the vision
revealed of her as the
wellspring for his dreams

Essenceoverhead
from where you lie
sprawled
across the bed

a vortex opens
and I spill forth
dancing-
a shadow cabaret

arms snake
from my body-
a siren in flight,
your lover

caught
in a mystic rapture,
in the strings
of a midnight song-

a vision
by starshine,
my essence
alive at night

the life we live
together in dreams-
a mist rising
as you sleep

till morning's
light
and the soft
patter of rain...

you listen
with eyes closed
to the wind chimes
of my voice

InterventionEvery corner is swept clear
bathed in new light
cutting through the air
with her purpose, and
the heavy drapes come down.

She holds a candle
against the darkness
casting its long shadows
from his burdened soul--
a labor of love

Leaning walls torn down,
the old place--
she renovates each space
with broad strokes
of her sunny beams

To prepare the heart
with compassion and grace;
a work of art takes form
Where once was an empty place,
A fine house is open to receive.

Unwavering, the truth
guides him to the edge;
pushing with divine intention,
she will catch him as he falls
and will welcome him home.

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Temple of Isis - Flashby `jade-pandora

Flash / Movies

The audio is of me reciting my poem, "Temple of Isis"

Like papyrus blossoms
sprung from the Nile,
towering pillars stand
as a forest ablaze
with temple torch lights

While above, through crossbeams
of cedars from Lebanon
are seen constellations
that the pyramids of Giza
mapped out on an earthbound grid-

A stellar connection from the
golden seat of the Sun God,
to the darkness of the Underworld.

The One who graces this place
on such a night before the act,
whose success is sanctioned
by her utterances, comes-

The Eye of Re,
overseen by the Phallus of Osiris
in the Shrine of Sokar,
The confederacy of Seth, wherein
what is near is burning-

The stone gods bear witness
as voices are raised
to chant in solemn song
the words she speaks-

O you who are invisible,
do not await me, for I am Isis.
You found me when I had
disarranged the hair round my face
and my scalp adornments disordered.
I have become pregnant as Isis,
I have conceived as Nephthys.
Isis drives out
those who would disturb me.
The dread of me
follows after me.
My dignity is before me.
Millions bend their arms to me.
The common folk serve me.
The associates of my enemies
are destroyed for me.
The grey-haired ones
uncover their arms for me.
The well-disposed
give sweet things to me.
Those who are in Heliopolis
create things for me.
I live according to my will,
for I am Wadjet,
Lady of the Devouring Flame,
and few approach me.

05/18/09: featured [link]

This is my second collaboration with

--Enjoy!

Our first collab: "Universe - Flash Video" [link]

The drawing in the flash video is my own "Beloved of Ra" [link]

The original source of the interior/exterior temple art is currently unknown. If anyone knows of the original site, please contact me and I will update my notes to acknowledge the link here.