Haunted by haiku;
I can never get the syllables right,
or the pattern dreamy.

Emotions wrack our bodies;
thunderstorms of feeling,
leaving us naked and breathless.

There are but two paths,
expose ourselves to that whirlwind
the other, close off our hearts.

One is the embrace of life,
the other its denial...
one living, the other a living death.

Which to chose is up to you
but me I'll accept the pain,
and joy of being alive.

Bury me deep
in the pillow of your sighs...
soft as clouds in a summer sky.

Every time we argue

you're wrong...

and I'm always right.

You don't cook like mama did,

and you can’t keep house.

As for ***,
you can't ****
 worth ****.



I never do anything wrong...

and I know what I'm talking about.

I don't need to know how to cook or clean

that's what women are for.

And as for ***...I'm the best you ever had.

Don't give me that hurt look,

or threaten to leave.



Its so quiet around here

these days...

I'm getting hungry

and the house is *****.

I've got to ******* to get off

but hey...

I won.

In moments of profound silence
when the heartbeat is just a whisper,
you can hear the ancient winds of Heaven
blowing through your soul.

Your face reminds me of old wood.
Full of cracks and crevasses,
each one a memory.
Its your life story.
All your sins,
all your blessings.
Every laugh
every tear,
is carved upon it.
Ancient and ageless
you are beautiful.

The season's first lightning bug like a ghost
seen from the corner of the eye...
what's that?