Here is the complete text of my second haiku book "Wrinkled Sea." It contains 120 poems and was published in 2002 by Hikoo Press, Kansas City.
1
awakened by spring light
I put on a blindfold
and go back to sleep
2
autumn dusk
a hippopotamus
perches on a withered branch
3
relieving itself
a gray cloud
turns white
4
a spell to protect
the paper tower
from wind
5
a whole sky
of stars hides
in my blindfold
6
to prevent discovery
a dinosaur dies
beneath a cathedral
7
a dream
of sharks --
the one-armed mermaid
8
staring at the sky
a fish waits
for the next ocean
9
rubbing the skin
from my face, I uncover
a jade mask
10
the moon
purchased and towed away
by aliens
11
for a good luck charm
I wear
a five-ton boulder
12
false eyelashes
barely seen
on the tarantula
13
valentine opened
valve replaced
valentine closed
14
flowing
from the chainsaw
cedar's perfume
15
walking through dead weeds
hand held up
to block the sun
16
the space
between galaxies --
that's where I'm most free
17
cherry blossoms
falling on stones
smash them
18
a stalactite and stalagmite
touch for the first time
in the dark
19
it's too white
to be my heart --
it must be my brain
20
water
come caress me
then go
21
defending houses
against the stars --
the faithful roofs
22
at night the refrigerator
yearns to escape
into the snowstorm
23
starlight
falls
on fallen leaves
24
one day
everyone ignored
a square cloud
25
during a snowstorm
a ruby grows
in a laboratory
26
from a gold frame
a holy man looks out
over a rock collection
27
without flapping its wings --
little silver plane
28
from a cloud
wind pulls
thousands of tentacles
29
sharp knife
at the string --
a kite dreams
30
staring at a blank wall --
it helps to listen
to the sea
31
in the ocean
for thousands of miles --
hidden rivers
32
in this soil
rot
of a billion petals
33
and we continue
slowly to ride
Milky Way's merry-go-round
34
the dragonfly examines
what I suppose
is my face
35
forsythia --
let's give the peacock
a crew cut too
36
pulled inside my lungs
the wind for a moment
is still
37
remembering Jesus
I walk on a sea
of concrete
38
slowly my toenails
wandering out
of my body
39
the stars
ripening -- occasionally
one falling
40
perfectly cut
to fit above everything --
blank sky
41
why do the smallest birds
always fly in the distance?
42
to smooth out the wrinkles
pull on the edge
of the sea
43
a cloud
stands still --
I float by
44
tree
my tend fingers
your ten thousand
45
angel's camouflage --
white dirt
of heaven
46
we who dwell inland
use small machines
to make ocean noises
47
during the rain
a man is repairing a wall
made of words
48
I cannot see
how I look
in my new blindfold
49
beneath the streets
tree roots reach
toward one another
50
moonlight shadows --
they never look
quite right
51
river delta
the mud has eaten
thousands of colors
52
flossing piranhas --
a difficult job
but it pays well
53
stars --
within me
tiny ancient things
54
in some other place
this little yellow sun
is scorching someone
55
beyond the window --
the world more magical
viewed through dust
56
eating raw cabbage
eating cooked cabbage
eating a gray sky
57
parking garage --
in 5000 years
stalactites?
58
even when I rest
my toenails growing
toward my destination
59
when no one is looking
the waterfall stops
for a moment to rest
60
sleepless night --
the trees beneath the street light
yearn for darkness
61
freed from cold
my spirit body
naked on an iceberg
62
stacking my vertebrae
on top of each other
I move on
63
my feet
are whispering to each other --
I play like I'm asleep
64
rather than dusting
I throw a little glitter
in the corners
65
toes --
old and fat
but still together
66
blue chicory flowers --
just before the lawnmower
I saw them
67
blue morning glories
the garden gate entangled
I go away
68
light reflect off
the light trapped in
a photograph
69
to make the photograph
look old, he took it
a long time ago
70
ghosts of dead languages --
black and white photo
of a rainbow
71
rotting off the house
a balcony
from which stars were viewed
72
bugs around a street light --
a little snow
that never falls
73
yes this morning
the fish still bathing
in the pool
74
for thousands of years
the cave patiently waiting
for electric lights
75
some younger, some older
the stalactites all dripping
in darkness
76
pulled between my thumb
and finger, the corn leaf
hisses like a snake
77
falling into the ocean
a tear expands
for thousands of miles
78
singing a hymn
to silence -- choir
of a thousand fish
79
the light has slowed
but eventually
I appear in the mirror
80
except for the sun
the sky today
flawless
81
a blind fish
listens
to falling snow
82
after the storm
a business man struck down
by a rainbow
83
freshly poured concrete sky
a yellow crocus
pops open
84
falling through
the back of the mirror
I reenter the room
85
before walking away
my shoes make sure
I've put them on
86
with hair gel
Rapunzel builds
her own tower
87
massaging the tarantula --
it wasn't as easy
as it sounded
88
a dragonfly wonders
why everyone's
so fat
89
found a meteor
shaped like a tongue
began writing haiku
90
beneath the flamenco dancers
the cockroaches
learn new steps
91
cute clouds
ugly houses
suburb twilight
92
lost myself
at the carnival
so I went home alone
93
a stone goddess
smiles
cracking hear head off
94
needing a vacation
I visit
my feet
95
hidden
in my closet -- capstone
of the Great Pyramid
96
forever salivating
the cave
hungers
97
by the time I returned from peeing
the cloud had died
(Published in "Ginyu," Ginyu Press, Japan)
98
a wet painting
their curiosity
keeps it moist
99
after two million years
face of a cliff
still waiting to be carved
100
moon
big round
bright rock
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
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