Graffito

All art
Is vandalism
Graffitied on
A brutally pure wall
Of conscious
Mindfulness
As self-awareness
Bubbles and forms
Before a thought.

And all artists
Crave our attention,
Transactions of time
And influence,
Only to abandon us
Like driftwood on pebbles,
Like unpolished beach-glass,
Once their needs,
Fulfilled, have passed.

Haiku #782

782.

The irreligious
Consumer cannot forgive,
But only forget.

Out Of A Lotus

Time will slip by
Unhurried, unnoticed,
So I propose one kind action
For someone out of a lotus.

Sometimes kindness requires
Doing what you would usually not;
Sometimes self should write aside
Someone else’s suffering plot.

Tempus Fugit Usquam,
So in moments see kindness renewed,
For some future day, ego expunged,
What will become of me and of you?

There Is Nothing

I sometimes get abused
And there is nothing I can do.
Some of this, by me,
But most of this by you.

I am a stone dropped, yes,
From a seagull unclenched;
Ego is a room of mirrors,
Bruises on my verbal hip.

The Capitalist (Haiku #779)

779.

To want deeper truths
Is oxymoronic and
Paradoxical.

Exigencies

There is no such object in my way
That I have not placed there myself.

Move society aside and
There is no insurmountable elevation
I did not raise myself.

In abluting these inexcusable
Exigencies of my conflated self
I can finally see
And in seeing
Then configurate
The right way out.

You And The Whole

You and the whole
Of history
Is only as much
Or as little
As I can hold
In my thoughts,
Atomised and
Compressed
At any one time.

Anything left
Is profligacy.

My Body A Prison

All that I’ve been through,
All that I lost,
All that I valued,
All that I cost,

All my inactions,
Fully embossed,
Old malefactions
Buried in moss;

My body a prison
With cells unaccounted,
My past in a frame
Unglazed and unmounted.

I’m who you shake
For seeking your answers,
My heart in the arms
Of thorn-fingered dancers;

I hear in my mind
A ceaseless alarm,
For I lost every key
Cut to disarm.

All that you’ve been through
All that you lost,
All that you valued
All that you cost.

Pallbearer’s Song

There is a light transcending,
I broached its dappled fall,
And though I neared the ending
Such light left me in thrall.

I carried him on my shoulders,
Flowers spelt my name,
Relatives somewhat older
Gave all hell to blame.

I lowered myself by an altar,
Hymnals in a hand,
And though they sang with gusto,
Silent was the land.

However low I travelled,
Misguided wrongs recalled,
Sunbeams on a glady gravel
Seek to be my pall.

Haiku #766

766.

Emptiness hollowed.
My thoughts are momentary,
Fleeting, like rain clouds.