MARCH, 1997

What is it?

What is life's Disgrace?

Is it the trampling of life's race?

or is it the existence of this greedy race?

Fighting and dying for power and greed.

Thinking only of our personal needs.

Saying greed is your only disgrace.

Would be lying to your own face.



A Bunny brings Eggs

He arose from eternal rest

Which is believable?




our promise met,

we'll phone home from business

trips to steal the light fantastic

for sale on our dark Earth.

The harvesting

of God.



She thinks

milk expires

on a specific date.

But, like love to indifference,

it decomposes some

each day as it




I envy those who in their blissful sleep

Benignly in somniferous repose

Know not the vacant spaces of this silent keep

Where wonders he of infinite "suppose".



Streetlight trails the wind,

red shadows twirl a vortex.

A night out of breath.



I wish you could have read the poem

I just erased.

It was all about perfection

and impermanence,

about building elaborate sand gardens

then welcoming the first windy day.

I was at the height of my powers when I wrote it,

but felt the storm coming

even as I placed the final ellipsis ...

I'm really going to miss it.




big, green,

climb, hide, play

worried if i fall


Cruel World

I know I may have been here

for just a short while

but now I am happy

because now I can smile

smile because I am gone

from such a cruel place

a place where people are too consumed

with hatred and race

I've had a lot of friends come and go

but my true friends will always know

know that I was never

easy to satisfy

so to them I say

a good, good-bye


Stubbåker, snöfläck

skott ekar, skall i kylan

harstek på bordet

Johan Kristiansson


In a game of chess

two players battleing out

there are many rules

black or white is the winner

check-mate is the objective



Amid appropriate colors
the big
orange coin
deposits itself
in the hogback,

banking against
a bright

by Larry Kimmel



Thundering heartbeats

pounding with authority

empasise the

seclusive desire

to explore deeper

into reposive slumber

by enhancing

the physical



Responding to

unlimited satisfaction

gospel silence is achieved

and all entities within

journey forth

into the escapade of



Coltrane Lovers

On a note of misdirection,

dispersed on smoky light,

swirled in scotch and sweet deception,

his song concludes our night.


Sexual Alchemy

A volatile mix they make,

the imp and true desire,

but there are steps I cannot take,

some tastes I can't acquire.

I'd like to understand this fact--

that offers, plain and clear,

repel as chemicals react,

with regret always so near.


Lumpy's Good Fortune

A lumpy baby squats to cry,

as mom arranges life.

A lumpy businessman stands by,

amazed that she's his wife.


Haiku from second graders:

Clouds cover the sky.
Feather clouds cover the world.
The sky covers me.

----------------------------Matthew, age 7.

Clouds, clouds, where are you?
Clouds bring rain to you and me.
Clouds, clouds, I love you.

----------------------------Robert, age 7.

Clouds are a blanket
Made of thick, creamy sky fog.
And a change is here.

-----------------------------Heidi, age 7.


Sing me Muse

and through me

tell the story

of that man skilled

in all ways of contending

the wanderer harried

for years on end

after he plundered

the stronghold

on that proud height

of Troy

He saw the townlands

and learned the minds of many distant men

and weathered many bitter nights and days at sea

--- Homer

Can you name him?



Mind, I have a question for you--how is it you stay so young?
As the years pile up on my body, you too should grow old.
Oh, if I followed your lead, Mind, I would be run out of town.

My body, in its withering, may become a lovely swallow.
Under the eaves of my loved one's home I'll build my nest of twigs.
After dusk I'll fly aloft and glide gently to his side.

See, mirror, here's my face again, soft as a rose's petal.
Should I surprise him tonight, show up like a painted lady?
How can he make it through the day, not seeing me as you do?

....Adaptations by Larry Gross, SIJO WEST #1, Spring 1996