Tuesday, March 31, 2015

625

I have some questions
about when to ask questions
questions on questions

Monday, March 30, 2015

One then another 
I write haiku; rinse, repeat
Until one strikes you

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Moving so slowly
Part wants to fight, part wonders
if it's what I need

Saturday, March 28, 2015

622

Some integrity
is a good thing to come by
One thing you can't buy

621

She was a wise one
Roseanne Rose-anna-danna
"It's always something"


620

I remind myself
to speak kindly to myself
as if to a friend

619

I write to be read
I write to never be read
I write in between

618

Waiting is weighty
It becomes lighter
when we live instead of wait

617

Lower the volume
so that then you can function
and then be grateful

616

I'm here and then gone
And the same is true for you
Be kind to others

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

615

My dear friend up high
you always encouraged me
I hope you are proud

Monday, March 23, 2015

612-614

Is it Appelfeld
or is it just Yitzchak Holtz
who I like so much?

If you have to say
that you're functioning okay
I have to wonder

All is from above
and yet we have our free will
Hard to understand



Saturday, March 21, 2015

611

in uber again
heading back toward home and then
i've got things to do

Monday, March 16, 2015

610

How does anyone
so human and imperfect
fall asleep at night?

609

Good night and G-d bless
Red Skelton earnestly said
when his work was done

Saturday, March 14, 2015

608

Your long hall matters
hall along and do not stall
navigate the hall

607

"Shabbat Shalom world
Pray for honesty and peace"
He writes pre-sundown

Friday, March 13, 2015

606

Some people are home
Some nice places to visit
And some are land mines

Thursday, March 12, 2015

605

G-d I don't get You,
and when I get that that's true,
I can get a bit.

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Sometimes I feel stuck
in Ahron Appelfeld's book
trying to get home

I collect girl friends
the way some collect girlfriends
or- they collect me

602

Your entanglement
is a mirror of my own
Let's talk when untied

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Sunday, March 1, 2015

600

My mother's last words
looking at dad from the floor-
She says, "I can't breathe."