Danse Haiku: Act XIII

Scene 1

Botanical intruders

Gardens choked by ample weeds

Earth's unwelcome guests

Scene 2

Faces kept out of view

Venetians masks conceal lies

Only eyes show truth

Scene 3

Dirty cups and plates

Kitchen sink, a spongy fate

Time to clean the slate

Stand

No surrender

Imagination
Brought you this far
Let discipline
Guide you
Into the stratosphere
 
Spit out vertigo
Excellence never comes
Without a sacrifice
This pedestal
Is yours
Alone
To destroy

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Cookie Jar Ajar

Ceramic vessel

Plump with intention

Holds the calm of sugary diplomacy

Peaceful crumbs settle

In its belly

Dulcet chime, lid clinks

Lifted to reveal sweet accords—

Molasses treaties, cinnamon pacts

Butter-wrought armistice

That melts on tongues

Quiet rests

Between stacked confections

Each baked dictum dissolving dissent

Vanilla lullabies

Coaxing discord

To rest

No fists clench

When grasping shortbread

No voices rise when chocolate chips linger

Only the candied implosion of resolve

When the cookie jar

Opens

Cherry Renaissance

They arrive

Cherry blossoms

Powdered algorithms

Cracking open the shell

Of winter’s code

Riot in pink

Currents

Speak them in riddles—

Syllabary of scatter and petals

Branches hold this brief madness

Like monks caught laughing

In the middle of a fast

No nostalgia

No apologies

In these pastel eruptions

Only the fierce syntax

Of becoming

They fall, yes

But fall like strategy

In calculated drifts

Negotiating gravity

Not romance

This is architecture

This is renaissance in floral design

This beauty is not gentle

But iterative

Tomorrow, the streets

Will wear their blush

Ankle-deep with the proof

That something exquisite

Can arrive without warning

And change

Everything

Photos From The Poetry Festival

 

Poetry Festival, Long Beach, NY

Saturday, April 5, 2025

~@~

Poetry Festival

 

~@~

Wiltless

Tulip sways

In a gnarled garden

Petals flushed with fire, edges bruised

Perfume drowning in stench

Withered nettles, soured earth

Breeze carries traces

Damp decay, rust-bitten thorns

Hungry for what they cannot become

Dirt clings, acrid, insistent

Mocking sweetness with charred musk

Roots below ask a strangling question:

Why bloom when ruin is law?

Still, the stem

Stretches upward

Honeyed scent spilling

Into poisoned air

Refusing to wither

Refusing to yield

Rot is not the only ending

Beauty, once breathed

Lingers