Trail MixImagine, the plane has gone down and we're lost in the desert. There's no food except for the dead passengers and a container of trail mix. The passengers soiled themselves during the crash, leaving them inedible and shitty. We try to make our way back to civilization, and along the way we try to ration the trail mix. You wake up the next morning to find only peanuts left. "What the fuck, Brad," you say to me, who is Brad. There's remnants of what were once melting M&M's and chocolate chips smudged around my mouth. "I'm sorry," I manage to mutter through the tears as my addiction becomes apparent. They drop on the ground and sizzle away in the sun's heat, like a chicken named "Hope" in a frying pan. As we continue our journey, you dig through the desolation that is peanuts, expecting only disappointment, but alas! You find a pair of raisins, stuck together, like two chickens named "Hope" in a frying pan. You raise them to your cracking lips, and eat them, savoring their swee
Steak SandwichA taste of red leaps and bounds all over the place, flashes of gold splash around.The waitress's words feel soft as wool as she asks,"Does everything taste all right?"It does, but it's not that simple.Beef gets torn apart with every bite,Chewed through, crunched throughThe fried onions are spiky, and jab at my tongue while making crackling sounds under the pressure of teeth.The bread is rough and tough, all of the softness toasted out of it.There's too much else going on here for one to just taste their food.
A Cup of SunSince dawn smells of dewAnd light blends with my tea leaves,I can taste the sun.
Haikus from the woodsLight through the branchesGreenish flower scents arise!Blind man sees anewDe la lumière à travers les branchesDes senteurs verdâtres de fleur émergent !L'aveugle voit à nouveauLost kids in the woodsThe human-faced tree stares,Hidden in the darkEnfants perdus dans les boisL'arbre à visage humain observe,Caché dans l'obscuritéVegetables grow -Among the desolationSuch foodie colours!Des légumes poussent -Parmi la désolationTant de couleurs gourmandes !
tillingsmell of earth's bloodleaves a tang in my nose- turn of the plow
night sky haikuadorningthe temple's roofcrescent moon
Will I also returnI was young as spring,and held to autumn's windlike pomegranates in the highest branches, before crows hollowed them autumn flurries returnwith the scent of fallen fruit,dying leavescrushed underfoot, shelter for next spring
A Sudden FlightInk-black birds scatter,Writing lines of free verseAcross a paper sky.
.did you ever stopto think, that maybe the starsare gazing at you
Gathering Darkthe sun has a smileangry - weeping - red passionthe sky wears a grin
Yellow haikuWind catchesthe yellow sailof the tulip
British PetroleumWaves turn sand to mudOil washed away like darknessThat sad, long lost mess