when the telephone rang
at six in the morning
four days before Christmas Eve
   I knew
things were not right

they told me
   my father had died
   at three in the morning
   and would I please come by
   arrange for the burial
   and collect his belongings
at the senior citizens home
where he had spent
the last four years
of his life

they had rested him nicely
he looked at peace
I kissed him on his forehead
   like I always had
   at the end of my visits
and cast a last long look at his figure
   before the body would be taken away

    and suddenly I noticed
       how big his hands were
    they’d never seemed so prominent before

as if in death they sent me a reminder
of how much he had loved his hands
   for work   for play  for sports
   for fight and for survival
   to point and to gesticulate
      they held me as a baby and
         some times
      slapped me as a child
   they repaired toys   split wood
   built sheds   drove cars and motor bikes
   were patient and precise
   caressed and soothed and loved

they were his life
they held his world

my father’s hands

The breath from her lips my enchanting vice.
She calls with silent motive in fluid flight, My name
I hear my name on the crest of her *****
In the break of the wave I'm an Argonauts Knight
Beckoning to my Siren.

My Heart races in the ocean foam
My blood marches to your pheromones
She's the promise, a prism of Masters eye
Mystique proscenium.

Her smile floods my thirsty soul
Jealous as the west wind embraces
Truth is you're more than mortality speaks of
You bathe in the full moon of my mind
Where visions echo dreams
That make me race to you at night

Eyes try to imagine
A face upon the sound
Lost, silly and triumphant
Your ghostly but around

Encouragement is kisses
Holding hands within a phrase
Giggling intentions  
Two brushes that are frayed

Imaginations driving
Your powerful a thought
For you the painter's waiting
The longing never stops

Your heart holds every color
Much like a page that's plain
Into your dreams I'm leaping
If to only sign my name

Oh Great Haiku in the sky
Send sweet releaf from tears you cry
Our minds are barren
Our papers dry
Flood our seeds of poetry
A harvest soon approaching
A festival of frowns & smiles
All are welcome, Men, Women, Child
From there to now and then
We feast upon the blessed poem.