You see an apple.
I see knowledge of a million years.
You see a circle.
I see life, death and rebirth.
Why do two people see so differently?
What makes one person see surface,
while another sees depth?
May this be a reason for war?
Which insight is right?
No one can say what is
Right, or what is Wrong.
No one is Right, and
No one is Wrong.
Here’s my haiku for the week: Birds twitter outside Light floods through my window blinds But I am still cold Originally posted on 52 Haiku
Here is another poem about D.B., written in 1983. Oh! How I love you, You little ball of fur. Your little booted feet, up to your little white chin. Your long, soft fur is a comfort when I’m sad. Your watchful eyes help me see clearly that you love me as much as I love…
Written in 1984. Love lost. Love gained. It’s all a matter of time. Friends come. Friends go. There is always more. Nothing is Forever. Except the one Self. You always will be you, though the rest may go. Others will come, That I know.
This poem was written in 1983 and published in the Spring 1984 issue of Metanoia, the Montgomery High School creative writing magazine. What colour is God? A child with milk mustache asks. Does God have a colour? Is the reply. Mother looks at her young offspring. A loving look met by confused eyes. Is God…
This week’s haiku is a little dark. Not because I’m depressed — in fact, life has been pretty good lately and I’m happy — but because I wrote it while listening to Stella Pope Duarte talk about facing your fears and getting to know your inner universe. If you ever get a chance to hear…
Written July 25, 1987. She sits there eating stick pretzels as if they were cigarettes. She holds them between her pointing and middle finger. She brings them up to her mouth and takes a bite. She rolls the bite teasingly with her tongue as she stares at her imaginary opponent. In her mind she plays…