Those once would have been/
my tracks. Maybe they one day/
soon will be again.
Tag Archives: sunset
Compare The Cold Sunrise And Be Grateful: Revolutionary Blogging Sonnet
She would send me photos/
of tall SoCal tropical trees/
silhouetted in the red sunset;/
dancing in the warm sea breeze.
As if to entice me/
to visit and to stay./
To warm my feet in the sand/
and watch the palm trees sway.
I returned the photo favor/
of a frigid, streaming sunrise:/
A frosted cottonwood silhouetted/
against cold blue mountain skies.
T’was not to tempt her, nor to say I was coldly sad,/
but to remind her to be grateful for the warm beauty she had.
Red Sunset Warmth: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku
If you look at the/
sunsets, you may think you’ll go/
Blind. You’ll just see red.
OR
If you look at the/
sunsets, you may think you’ll go/
blind. Enjoy red warmth.
Red-Gold Sunset: Romantic ConTEXTing Haiku
As the sunset of/
red and gold painted the sky,/
he remembered her.
OR
As the sunset of/
red and gold painted the sky,/
he recalled her hair.
Unexpected Dancing: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku
My first lake dancing/
was not with someone who I/
ever expected.
Banter To Introspection: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku
As sun’s light leaves the/
evening sky, light banter turns/
to introspection.
Sunset Clarity: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku
With a wise gaze she/
set her sights towards the West,/
and wrapped inner peace.
I Call This One Ohhhhhmmmmmm: Revolutionary Blogging Free Verse
I call this photograph
“Ohhhhhhhmmmmmm.”
I never posted it before,
because I knew
no one would get it.
Sunset.
Wisconsin lake water
covering my ears,
echo-amplifying
the universal harmonic call.
“Ohhhhhhmmmmmmm.”
Sound waves
mixing
with lake waves
mixing
with brain waves
mixing
with heart waves.
“Ohhhhhhmmmmmmm.”
It was never posted before.
No one would get it.
She will.
Slow Freeway Traffic Bennies: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku
Slow freeway traffic/
in my ragtop means I can/
watch sun- and moon-set.
Unanticipated Consequence: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Free Verse Poem
The unanticipated consequence
of having
a heart that’s breaking,
and
a soul that searching,
and a mind that’s wondering,
is that a view
of San Francisco bay
at sunset
absolutely flat lines
you.
Nothing.
No emotions.
No memories.
No smiles.
No desiring Allejandro’s.
No craving
walking down Columbus Street
or North Beach to find some pasta
or cannoli.
No wishing for family style
in Chinatown.
Oh wait!
There IS a memory.
A blond haired,
blue-eyed
man,
with his back to the Golden Gate Bridge,
Russell Wilson jersey repping,
hands raised
high
in the air,
middle fingers
extended.
Yep.
F the Whiners.
F the Quakes.
F the A’s.
And the Giants.
F San Francisco.
But mostly,
F the Whiners.