burns suck

a hot pan sears flesh
leaving red marks of passage
southern snow blows in

Benediction

outside my front door

I feel prayers on my face

spirits paint the sky red

Stepping outside my door I see the red light of dusk, behind the houses and around the trees. 

The wind picks up slowly whispering prayers of winter

Tobacco blows from my hands as I say thank you.

Merry day

ice greets the day
clinging to Christmas trees
yesterdays wet snow

puppy prints in snow
wandering the neighborhood

to the physical world
art is a useless endeavor
but to the the soul it is everything

going in the dark

longest night driving
even the wind waits for dawn
rebirth of summer

picture of trees

we wait for spring 
with moss covering the dead
things we see walking

Jets

arriving early
we visit the coffee shop
old women gather

a feast

sun light on feathers
plucking their food from the grass
I scare them to flight

Every day

laboring all day
never seeing any sun
I envy the ant

laborer

surrounded by dust
trading my time for money
hoping for better

freeway

little birds in trees
singing beside the freeway
as they always have

le sigh

need to be doing
I'm quietly panicking
wrestling with doubt

day

standing in the factory
all I see are straight lines
going no where

weds.

a glimpse of blue sky
surrounded by painted steel
sunlight through shadows

waiting

every breath I take
I smell work clinging to me

every day

cars sit idling
parents stare at their smart phones
missing sun and birds

dads porch

talking and rocking
  we watch the cat stalk small birds
flannels and coffee

The Parlor

buzzing of needles
ink and flesh turned into more
Black Phoenix Tattoo

Tanka, almost

rising on St. Croix
streaks of light behind black trees
through grimy windows
snow clinging on to shadow
waiting for winter to come

my back yard

snow dripping I peek
I heard the calling of crows
they say to relax

The next day

waking up at Three
yesterdays shock is still here
my clock keeps moving

Coronation

I was there that day
when Hans and Taion battled
For the golden Claw
on the fields of Border Downs
In the shadows of summer

Tanka baby steps

talking about poems
with my children as we work
they do math I write
sounds of geese echo the train
as fall snow turns to water


I am sure each line is suppose to be contained in itself but. It is a start.

work day

afternoon anger

destroys mornings happiness

why do the clouds come

watching

I feel like I am waiting
for what  I am not sure
different monotony
breaks the day

thoughts

Is a haiku a poem of multiplication?
A collection of sounds that mean more than they appear to?
A cut of words that bleed meaning.

what it isn't

looking for Basho
in the heart of Haiku
I find myself

remembering blaze orange

sunlight on my back
its like heaven in winter
my ears are happy

tuesday commute

be still while moving
snow becomes rain yet remains
red lighs and wet tires

you cannot force a haiku

meditating on Haiku.

words floating in space
my thoughts captured in haiku
waiting to be seen

yule time christmas

pagan holiday
waiting for the suns rebirth
a nativity

on my mind

smelling spring water
trout rising to late winter
fall fly fishing dreams

happy table

turkey with stuffing
family gathered all around
the pies are waiting

Monday parking lot

snow falls in lamp light
Slowly drifting from heaven
making driving hell

older

whispers on the wind
     listening to the spider

a week of waiting

sitting in quiet
birds searching through winter snow
listening to trees

Sunday

my thoughts on paper
capturing pictures with words
snow in the branches

the stream

frozen streams whisper
bluejays screaming at nothing
trees heavy with snow

on stand

a quiet so loud
a birds wing flaps with thunder

turkey day

coffee and cribbage
cold wet blue grey morning
anticipation

grumpy pants gultch

bluejay rock is weeping
for the torn trees it once knew
tears fill the track marks

I think every picture is worth 17 syllables

trying

bullet holes in glass
so much pain for no reason
piles of flowers.

thoughts.

When did we give up our wisdom . No one comes to Europe or its descendants for wisdom on how too see the world. They go to yogis, visit medicine men. Visit Zen masters in Japan. Did we trade it for science and technology?

hmm

racing through tail lights
wet grey clouds cover the sky

grumpy pants gulch

blue jay rock sits sad
surrounded by broken stumps
 singing for the trees

Thursday.

my spirit wanders
thinking of past miracles
pondering mistakes

Not a picture but how my day went

Tuesday night

wind talking of storms
the rocks sing their ancient songs
clouds cover the sky

Songs of Sunday

echos of drumming
I can still smell the cedar
Sunday reverie

in the lodge

smell of cedar and sage
rocks gathering heat to carry our prayers

painting

color on canvas
magic wands with paint on them
brush strokes from the heart

Grinding

standing at my job
Falls trees sing a song I feel
wild woods calling

thanks you Basho

smell of wet pavement
listening to Tom Wait sing
thinking of Basho

hmm

rain sitting with me
we remember the old times
dancing under trees

looking up

light bending water
eyes looking through my wind screen
the white heart of rain

Kinni

gathering ceder
air whispering in the mist
Rae telling stories

Doctor visits

her steps off rhythm
waiting in anxiety
soft muzak torture

Sindibad

grandma is singing
of stones with love in their heart
thunder on his wings

ponder

trees off to sleep
cold rain falling into snow
children are ready

Weather

Today's weather made me think of wood stoves and fresh coffee.
 I can hear the sound of rain hitting tin.
Sitting in a cabin surrounded by old oaks. Stubbornly clinging to their leaves.

wood stoves and coffee.
tin dancing in the soft rain
oaks clinging to leaves

Brutus

where ever I go
dog hair follows me clinging
no matter the month

Lodge

into the turtle
grandfathers march one by one
drums leading the way

64

saw tooth blueness west
air heavy to the morning
coffee on my mind

saturday coffee

dark clouds over head
Fall colors fading to brown
wet leaves under foot

shadows

walking down the trail
looking back at the mountain
I too remember

bridge windows

strait lines of metal
under round clouds of sunrise
shadow chasing light

Mom and DadsOrchard

white picket fencing
fruit trees heavy with apples
hoarfrost on the leaves

random

Imagine if we all come from one single spark of life long ago.

Super Moon

an old world omen
shining light on buried fears
watching Autumn's moon

stop lights

orange shorts jogging by
old stars and stripes in shadow
colors of the fall

LAST DAY

early autumn sun
looking for trout in riffles
kingfisher and I

Rae and the Monarch

royal butterfly
orange wings perched on a finger
delight on her face

uuug

eyes heavy steps slow
weekend memories fly by
coffee needs Monday

Tuesday

golden light of dawn
with red thunder creeping in
clouds flee before it

Sunday Sunday

cumulonimbus
cruising down a hot freeway
my daughter and I

The other half

the sound of crane wings
trees whispering to the wind
quiet things we see

Fishing the River

with fawns looking on
water swims through rocks and trout
a fool and his friends

Fiskers stone

standing all alone
remembering the old days
waiting to be free

The moon and venus

in summers twilight
the maiden and her lover
reaching not touching

tuesday

calm overcast day
smell of water in the air
yearning to fly fish

Ziggi by Cadian

one damp summer eve
torchlight dancing to the stars
the black Knight of cheese

Monday

sitting on my couch
waiting for a message
watching the haze

2:30 am

waking to white light
rain eyes half open looking
thunder in the night

thinking about Haiku

what is a Haiku
brush strokes made with a few words
a moment in time

Summer Vacation

white hot humid Day
summers Children wandering
Flowers in the wind

NRW

Happy Folk abound
banners swimming in the wind
the Northern Realms War

Drive out

heading to the west
miles of rolling prairie
black hills horizon

mid june

wispy clouds sky blue
green leaves shimmer in the trees
a cool summer breeze

June first

wispy clouds sky blue
green leaves shimmer in the trees
a cool summer breeze

my

small yellow faces
smell of blossoms on the wind
spring becomes summer

http://noblepig.com/2014/07/the-best-mojito/

fly fishing

small hook and feathers
a fooled trout on my tippet
trout water dancing

sat.

napping while they fold
the unfairness of it all
children doing chores

on the way home

a view through grey clouds
the maiden and her lover
dancing in the sky

Coronation

bright sun on green grass
armor glittering like gems
the smell of rattan

maple syrup

white birch on blue sky
smell of wood smoke in my eye
making spring sugar

what Hans built

standing in shadow
watching the mountain recede
I too remember

waiting

that magic moment
watching winter turn to spring
a water droplet

Saturday

racing through the fog
watching the bare trees dance by
smelling of coffee

late

a warm winter night
snow making water then ice
teasing thoughts of spring

January thaw

light grey clouds, heavy
waiting to wake into green eyes filled with winter

SNow shoes

white gems in the dark
such wonders of the night sky
sights while snow shoeing

Driving

feeling of magic
clouds creeping across the sun
dusk on winter snow

after freezing breath
stepping out side after work
joy at seeing slush

pushing the tooling cart

spears of sunlight bloom
piercing factory duct work
winters pale beauty

freeway

wispy white on brown
cold imps dancing in the wind
January snow