Sweet Tides

Not a new track by any means but just it heard for the first time today. It was very early morning and I was so tired and miserable then this track comes on the radio from nowhere and my heart is ablaze once more with memories. Funny how your heart can give you that sudden rush and pull you back to those certain moments that live for an eternity.

Three Memories

I was going through my computer files and found some video footage of a visit to my parents and found my old piano had been relegated to the garage...

Ten Haiku

Well, my current Haiku obsession doesn't seem to be showing any signs of waning just yet. I hope that my plan of feeding my addictive personality something safe and soul enriching like writing Haiku is going to pay off. I am too old for the whiskey and cigarettes.
Music is by the wonderful Ken Bonfield.

Humble Haiku

Here are some more Haiku that I have written in the last couple of days. I am going to try and write at least one a day as part of my daily routine. I am finding that the process is great food for the soul. I am deciding for the moment to stick with the three lined 5-7-5 syllable counting form as I am enjoying trying to find freedom within these tight boundaries. However, after recently reading about Gary Snyder's views on the topic, I imagine that I will soon change all that. (Here is a great interview you can read if the desire is yours: Gary Snyder talks with Udo Wenzel )

But for now, here are my four latest humble Haiku attempts.

A flag, a symbol
of man drawing boundaries
on that which is free

Death is stalking us
so I celebrate the day;
it could be our last.

All about is still
while up above, clouds move fast.
Summer starts to wane.

The little kitten
cuddles me with her sharp claws.
It is true, love hurts.

Haiku

I wrote a few more Haiku last night during a moment of procrastination. I should try to write them daily as I find it such a meditative experience that really helps me to reconnect with the 'here and now'.


The candle flickers
releasing scent from the wax;
my ears and nose smile


Fingers kissing keys
tippity-tip-tap-tip-tap...
a poem is born


Rumble of traffic
beneath the orange street lamps
where moths learn to dance