On Richard Gilbert's 61st birthday
 
 
baby boomers rattle their sixties
 
chanting 'amandla!'
baby boomers ski 
the downhill slope
 
sexagenarians shooting blanks
 
moonstruck
I become
its alibi
 
time-tide
no turning back 
on itself
 
Is this the way the world ends?
Is this the way the world ends?
Is this the way the world ends?
Not with a bang but with a boomer.
Glaucoma

 
glaucoma—
a seer at odds
with vision
 
light
strains the edges
of itself
 
astride dreams
horizons gather
to the flame
 
under the weather
my eyes acclimatise
to their ends
 
climate change
I feel the earth
for a pulse
 
optic pressure—
vision swells up
in words
 
measured—
the range of vision
and words
 
all dark!
between stars
my light

deep dreaming a plum tree blooms

a breath of light
wind ripples
the waters
see the light
in the undergrowth
where we dream
insomnia
the moon returns
my shadow
sun shower
the otherness
of us
Hiroshima - 70th Anniversary of the Bombing
 
 
Hiroshima
in flames of being
here and now
 
is this light?
a little boy's weight
on the wide island
 
rain fills
the space that was
once yours
 
on ones so silent
the full impact
of a scientific yes
 
silence falls
like a mushroom
from the Enola Gay
 
hollowness
rings out loud
from the sky
 
i am
become death
atom by atom
 
mumbling sky
the build up of heat
to come
 
a true man
without the sounds
of agony
 
Nagasaki - 70th Anniversary of the Bombing
(dedicated to Kaneko Tohta)
 
Nagasaki
where east meets west
treading fire
 
a fat man
implodes in light
the long cape
 
ground zero
a white wormhole
opens at mass
 
after light
dark stains of martyrdom
on stone walls
 
seared through
faces and forms
at worship
 
a fumi-e
in deafening silence
stomped under
 
kakure kirishitan
keloid hands break open
the bread of words
 
in light
the death of martyrs
reborn
after rain
pavements come clean
on where they led
deep-sea diving
moon-struck lovers enter
each other's shadows
childhood home
I left my otherness
within you
in her fingers
the daisy becomes
her ditty
late snow
for a change the change
is seasonal
haiku at dusk
my calculated foray
into silence
thought fall
into my child
hood's was
a rainbow
almost
all around
long silences
the circadian rhythm
of cicadas
Nagasaki bombing anniversary
 
fat man,
in your rain of terror
we rust
turning leaves—
that to which I cling
stripped bare
night goddess—
a fantail's fanbase
grows less
when writing haiku 
must I learn to eschew
rhyme too?
wind-huffed
a ripple of words
after me
spring haiku—
images more and more
sound wordless
primal scream!
this too, infected 
with words
far beyond 
Hawking's horizon
a silence
moonless night—
the distance that remains
of climate change

somewhere in these words an absence lives on

Truth
 

the statement in the next line is false
the statement in the previous line is false
 
rumours
of evanescence
persist
 
underterred
dead sea carrion
stilling stars
 
testament
of a foreign will
the flea bite
 
holding on 
to its becoming
a chrysalis
ice melt—
my descendants snorkel 
down main street