A haibun — I dreamt of a returning — of a calling home to ancestors, but many times greater than that — of an ego-death of sorts, but somehow many magnitudes grander than that — of I, losing all sense of I — as infinitesimal mote of dust within endless softening white mist…

A haibun — I was born into loneliness, but I couldn’t touch or define it any more than a bird taking to the sky could know what wind is. I swaddled myself within its unknowable comfort, displaced even from myself. It became my armor; my inevitability. Along buzzed a most beautiful hummingbird who…

Thrifty Words 100 Challenge #84: Silence — Some so-called spiritualists say that ghosts appear where they have regrets. I say they’re all idiots. Hogwash. A physical impossibility. Shit man; I can’t be everywhere at once, and I’m very much alive. Some don’t call this living, but fuck ‘em. But shit, man — regrets?!? Shiiiit, guess I’d better hope…

Pandemic Haibun Challenge — With pandemic’s pressure, panic, and calamity comes clarity, but I know I’m one of the lucky few. After living a lifetime on the margins, flirting with financial stressors, only now have I realized that I had no idea I even had it this good. …

A sedōka series — Seasons Stalling am I the fool then clinging to summer’s hemline, unmindful of evening’s frost? autumn comes for us; sunsets pile reds upon golds; dusk chills, hushes much sooner Eternal Falling why must you move on heedless to our lover’s calm chasing the setting moonbeams? senses deceive you; earth’s stillness, an illusion; motion, our only constant…

Prompt response: Stones and Bones Hide Memories — It’s maddening if I think too hard about it; this emptiness, this void whispering sweet nothings within us — whistling between us — that we never seem able to traverse due to too many missing pieces. It is often enough to make me laugh between shoulder-shaking sobs. I frequently find…

Ripened grin with no eyes — Under the hunter’s last throws, she finds herself settling within the comfort of a familiar thirst, but there’s scarcely any moon left on the rind for this impromptu hunt, and I’ve too many questions to embrace her want, which had been my mind and soul, — but not my body, — not for so many other past-named moons…

Under unfathomable weight of gratitude — Your burning tenor licks shoreline, veering skyward — perhaps alto, or just beneath soprano — though I haven’t the ear for such things – I only shelter a soft heart vibrating viciously within resonance with whatever vibes your melodious wails evoke, tickling goosebumped skin, hairs on end due to your glossy…