And exhausting

Ridiculous. And

ironic. To struggle that

I might stop struggling.

RK

~

7/22/17

~

Advertisements
Posted in Character Building, Haiku, How-to | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Lear’s Beautiful Boat

I am nearly 13 hours asleep

in this nearly empty place

together with

a sofa and a coffee table adrift.

~

I feel like the poem come alive,

The Owl and The Pussy-cat

out to sea

in a pea-green boat.

~

The thoughts are circling like Big Sky clouds or scavenging birds, I don’t know which or both; this is the move without end, the move unexpected. I drive another round-trip, dead-head run.

~

I return home from home, I don’t know which or both. Last night another meal of take out. I am barely hungry.

I opt instead, tear open a King’s Fortune, break out that slim, bilingue, little slip of paper, madly almost sure it holds the answer. Some deep Tao Te Ching in a short order kitchen.

I am not disappointed.

Never disappointed.

I am one of the luckiest, wealthiest, happiest women in the world:

“You will be having a lot of a fun.”

You know?

~

RK

~

7/16/17

Posted in Les Holt: Journal Entries from the Edge, Start Where You Are | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Wednesday 

~

RK

~

7/12/17

Posted in Start Where You Are | Tagged , | 1 Comment

All the world’s a stage

My mind seems out of sync, you know, like that bit of tape from that scene that was a problem all the way around from the beginning, all the way along until that day you grab the remote hoping for distraction and there it is, the lips are moving and the words are traveling but not in unison. And you don’t know which to follow, the lips or the words, as if it matters. You know? And you flick it off, ashamed that it did matter for a second, albeit an out-of-sync second. My mind seems a bit out of sync, like that, you know? I wonder if that’s how it all starts.

~

RK

~

6/19/17

~

Posted in Human Factors | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Zen Forest Laughter

Unmoored, real estate
ad floats to face marshland trees.

“They call it Billboard.”

~

RK

~

6/15/17

~

Posted in Grandvertising, Haiku, Laughter | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Her Pillows

They are as neat and as tidy as can be expected, the ticking clean, clear of blemish or stain, with wee, blue and white flowers, her favourite colours, the two of them sit like that, one atop the other at the head of the bed, high up on the left, as far into the other corner as they can be, as if apologetic for taking up space.

They’ve been there for days now. I keep walking by, wondering if I should keep them, despite the whiskers of tiny, fine feathers poking thru here and there. I think of the down, how soft it is, keep wondering how many nights and generations have rested there, dreamed there, tossed and turned, wrestled with angels there.

I pat and stroke them when I pass by, as if I’m expecting to make up the bed again, as if I can snap the pillowcases and everything to attention before I draw them up, make the bed again, like I’m efficient and together instead of wanting to collapse there and never, ever get up.

Truth be told I’d like to gather them up, one under each arm maybe, and with a huge, long, sharp knife tucked into my belt, I’d climb that hill, the one with the shimmering pond at its feet, and once there, I’d sit with them for a while, cry out the pain there, maybe, I mean other than the lovemaking isn’t that what they’re for, and I’d cry there instead of here with this pen and this book like a madwoman, I’d cry there.

I’d tell them where everything went wrong and how I was always too late or too little to fix any of it, and then when we were all ready, in agreement that I would be like Abraham with his twin Isaacs, only not really, then I’d take the feather pillows, hold them up high, high, take the knife and, howling, cut them from stem to stern, cut the feathers free, flying dancing into the wind laughing and I’d paper the world in down, I’d paper the world with their feathers, for all of us who fall, for all of us who are falling, for all of us who are fallen.

~

RK

~

6/6/17

Posted in Prose, runawaykeyboard | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

May you park in health

This five-day pass is

done. He gives me free exit,

“card as souvenir”.

RK

~

5/16/17

Posted in Haiku, Thought-Traffic | Tagged , | Leave a comment