Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
moleskin
Feeding my fetish for little black books
I feel compelled to fill them up
With words of praise for you, for us
I feel compelled to fill them up
With words of praise for you, for us
Monday, May 17, 2010
Pedal & Park
Labels:
bicycle,
bike,
David-Rheins,
earth,
Haiku,
pedal and park,
planet,
poetry
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Speed Bump
I tried to swim but I could not float
Lived on the reservoir without a boat
Crashed in a shed with the fishing line
It wasn’t much, but what I had was mine
Hump day bump in the week
Took a chance I’d land on my feet
Speed trap, wrong side of the law
Put it all down to my ma and pa
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Monday, May 3, 2010
The coming season
There is nothing to be said
That could sway the coming season
Naked, tree-like, thin we stand
Stripped of bark and reason
The rutted road that took us here
Grown with underfed intention
Wildly we took smaller steps
Stumbling forward without convention
We played around in pre-formed masks
Pulled fancy wool over grape-skinned eyes
Followed Pollyanna in her pinstriped suit
Drank Kool-Aid until we lost our minds
Maybe it is time to stop eating meat
Go vegan and start making sense
Light the candles each Friday night
Celebrate the value of each week spent
It’s almost time for our trip to the woods
Alone each must seek his chosen spot
A small space to collect one's thoughts
Await the coming of the final day
That could sway the coming season
Naked, tree-like, thin we stand
Stripped of bark and reason
The rutted road that took us here
Grown with underfed intention
Wildly we took smaller steps
Stumbling forward without convention
We played around in pre-formed masks
Pulled fancy wool over grape-skinned eyes
Followed Pollyanna in her pinstriped suit
Drank Kool-Aid until we lost our minds
Maybe it is time to stop eating meat
Go vegan and start making sense
Light the candles each Friday night
Celebrate the value of each week spent
It’s almost time for our trip to the woods
Alone each must seek his chosen spot
A small space to collect one's thoughts
Await the coming of the final day
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stacked together in boxes
chauffeured to slaughter