Friday, July 17, 2009


in a damp lilac dusk
to meet a sailor
that smells of african musk
with a sunburned neck
and the eyes -- very blue
realize for a second
that it is not you!
let out a cold grin
at your image inside my head
'cause tonight i don't give a goddamn
what's good and what's bad
bite his lips into blood
taste the metal of wine on his breath
just for one day --postpone his death
body to body like paper to glue
but the eyes --they have to be very blue.


Be cold.
She told
Do not attach
with your head
or your crotch.

Cut off your hands.
And bury your feet.
Swallow the air.
Don't touch the meat.

And when you think
about his soul
Do not think --
just see a hole.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

The Wounded Samurai

From a Conversation with a 5-year-old boy

If I had so much money
that i didn't know how to count
i'd buy an island
and drink rum in the sun.
listen to the waves spill the word
that was uttered before
the world became this world.
i'd play with the jelly fish
and feel my brain
lose its contours
like jelly in the rain.
and my body -- frail
and scarred by deep sun-burned wrinkles.
all memory would vanish --
no inkling of the past remains.
and as the night comes
splashing white, bright stars overhead
seen by Vincent
there would appear the Samurai
long since dead:
with a silver sword and without fear,
the- wounded-belly-Samurai
with a carved out pride,
and he would cry, cry, cry.

Monday, June 29, 2009


One tries
and fails to kill himself.
The other -- wants in again
to tread the same
lame path of petty love.
i feel crystal clear --
no pity. no love. no tear.


what do you want?
i want love.
bit. light. and real.

some falls
liquid and secret.
some loves
small, dark.
if you crash, then give it your all --
so there's nothing left but your soul
immaculate and ripped --
like the ripples in the sun.
all these years of living below the waist
but never really crossing the line
left me wasted as i predicted.
now living above the neck --
frozen passion
at times a feeling of lack.
and you say:
what you need is to go to the desert
howl like a beast.
let out a scream.
and find a new dream,
a new spark.


i think i've had enough.
some loves along the road
small and dark

in fact, i'll call it a night....
while waiting for the one :
big and light.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

On The Road

Love smells like bergamot.
Death -- like candle wax.
In a wooden traincar i caught
the light sneaking through the cracks.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Second Coming

From the desert
rose the star.
The color of loss.
The three wise men
dreamt of the cross
and opened their eyes
in search of a word
to announce,
they prayed to the Muse.
But she said:
be silent.
What's the use?


We just don't recall.
As if the cord
is torn
between the soul and flesh.
We think we start fresh.
But look
into that porfiry September
when you were a deer
skipping along the rocks
in search of your doe.
Keep running.
Keep opening the door.

Monday, May 18, 2009


I saw as they led
my children away.
To slaughter.
One by one.
I saw the sharp terror
in the eyes of my daughter.
As the master grabbed her
by the scruff of the neck
with a hand -- skillfull and rough.
He severed her head
and laid it out
in the sun.
To dry.
I chewed on the grass.
Didn't avert my eye
from her still-open eyes --
glossy and dead.
I said:
Daughter-sheep, they are people.
They know not what they do.
Their hearts are crowded
and pity doesn't fit.
So, rest in peace, my daughter.
And may you be blessed
while they eat.


For weeks now
the demons roamed
and trampled.
Ravaged me to pieces
and made me their home.
They didn't come uninvited.
I let them in with open arms.
Hoping for revelation
from their ramble.
But revelation comes from hard labor.
From sweat. Blood.
Being still.
Feeling love's chill
through your backbone.
While you are cast alone.
Like an unwanted pebble
or some brown-gray stone
hurled into the open air.
Onto the road
that leads nowhere.

Saturday, May 9, 2009


One asked--
what is love? what is its essence?
The other answer answered:

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Evening Prayer

Warm as the breath of a dog --
the fog
enveloped all thoughts of you.
Left me empty inside.
Light. Light blue.
Outside gray pigeons flew.

Saturday, April 25, 2009


watching the lump of sugar
absorb the coffee and everything else died
soul was bare. stark
like a stork --still on a desolate plain
black and white.
then you entered my mind again
as if you were always marked.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Simple Song

little girl, did your boy leave?
or did your cat die?
why this grief?
little girl, wipe your eye.

yes, my boy, he left me
and the cat, he died.
and all that i have now
are these tears that i cried.

little girl, there'll be another boy
and your cat, he's a star now.
little girl, look -- a green meadow!
little girl, look -- a brown cow!

and the girl wiped her eyes
and looked out where the sun
sent indifferent rays --
yellow with chrome.

little girl, hold me, please
i will cry now a bit
for the boy that i lost
who only knew how to quit

and i will cry for my cat
may he never have fears.
little girl, all we have
are these transparent tears.

Mercy Haiku

"He was caught like a dog
cowering under a tree!",
they cried .
And the villagers exhaled
and beat the bound thief.
There was one
who did not feel the relief.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Being Haiku

Body withered -- like a tree bark
Mind -- like ashes
I rummage through the pure trash
that was my life.

Pigeon on 54th Street

You were curled to the ground
your chest was swollen,
your wing broken
i bent down to
take in the gray liquid of your eye
Pigeon, can I help?
You looked away in
weak disgust...

I can't even help a dying pigeon die
a painless death
How can I ...
...never mind...
Say nothing.
Always say nothing.
Say less.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

The Green Balloon

he said that
he'd walk the desert sand for me
although i never asked
he said he'd massacre for me
although i never asked
he said he loved me
although i never asked
he said he loved me
although i never asked
he said he loved me
i never asked
over and over
he said it
until i knew
it wasn't true.
not a word.
so i said:
if you love me
keep it short,
keep it short
and get lost.
and i crossed
the street
to where a little girl stood
with a green balloon.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Life Haiku

A bird flew to my feet
to die.
Noone is indifferent to
his/her life.


time stands still.
it's just that days repeat themselves.
so that we can remerber it all
for an instant.
precise and bright.
so that we can recall
the light

Friday, April 3, 2009

For My Father

from a dream about my father:
" are you alive?"
" no. my eyes hurt"

Seven years
since you quit this scene.
You were tired.
And the pain was sharp.
Of seeing this world
through your heart.
Now -- light and relief
for not having to endure
this misprint,
this slip
of the world.
And get hoarse, bored
from shouting at lies.
I always knew it wasn't the heart.
It was always the eyes.


We were seven.
In the basement
the priest's son said:
"I'm in love."
His eyes -- cold.
"With who?"
" You"
And he looked like
a son of a prince.
I ran. Without looking back.
I've been running since.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009


In that empty, dark room
the universe narrowed
to the nape of your neck
where I buried my face.
And the past disappeared
for a fleeting instant
and left no trace.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Piety Haiku

infused with fear,
laws, rules
poisoning the fresh minds
with obedience
and innocent souls with trembling.
what a pity
that it was you that
took over the world
instead of love and
made everyone your bait.
you disciplinary belt of hate.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Empire Haiku

The Empire crumbled.
And the rich man became
a beast who eats grass.
No sound or flesh
can console the panick-sick
whose 17th nightmare mumbles:
Consider the lilies,
Behold the sparrow.

Addiction Haiku or Franny and Zooey

I sobered up, i faced my misery.
Leonard Cohen

To Ilo, my cousin
They tell me you're not well.
That I should call.
And what do i say?
...things you already know.
Is it going to get better?
No. Yes. May be...
Does it matter?
Acccumulating loss
is vulgar like
scraping for gain.
So live...
for no reason..
just because.
and when the demons
roam free
life will be there
all out and ready --
like a branch of
a blue vein
on the extended arm.
Brother, don't beat a dead horse.
It's already been done.
Let it all go.
But first -- your mind.
And there you will find
what we could never see --
the escape --
in everyone and none.

Pious Haiku

One said: I waited for God.
Filling myself with
repentence, hurt.
The other replied:
Break yourself empty.
You will find Him
playing in the dirt.

Changeling Love Haiku

When the sun set
And the seagulls flew,
I was thinking of you.
When the sun rose --
I wasn't.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

True Love Haiku

One said to Jesus:
"I admire you, rabbi."
Jesus replied:
Fool. You are shallow.
"What shall I do then?"
the fool asked.
Don't admire. Follow.

Way Haiku

Words barely
brush the surface.
Deeds get to the core.
Be silent.
It's always:

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Reality Haiku

A bomb exploded in the cattle market
killing 10 men.
Their limbs strewn randomly
on the bloody pavement
made the last attempt of the flesh
to join the spirit in the impossible leap.
Noone counted the sheep.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Eternity Haiku

is no bliss.
It is a nightmare
where alone,
you stand
before the One
who knows it all
knows you whole.
Do not let the soothsayers
comfort you in vain
with tunnells of light,
immortal gain
of transcendent hue.
where you
finally reach the point of

Love Haiku

Words. They don't impress me.
They are empty,
though not necessarily light.
You didn't use words.
You cut into me with a deed
and against this i have no sword
with which to fight.
Besides, why would i
cut the silent cord
devoid of the lie?

I've always wanted the real.
So here it is.
shut up. sit back. And feel.

Faith Haiku

Very often logic is the movement in the wrong direction.
Nodar Djin
The trees that lose their leaves
stand naked, as if hurt
Do not feel sorry for them
Too much sorrow is often
a sign of a bad mind or worse:
the lack of faith in the absurd.

Saturday, February 28, 2009

Abrahaam's Haiku

One wakes up, says: should it be the pancakes
or eggs with ham?
The other's choice is:
Isaac or the lamb.

American Haiku

One said to another: I've travelled the world
looking to find a perfect face
with no flaws, no sign of pain.
The other replied: you've travelled in vain.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Pseudo Haiku

one asked: what would you do
if you had to do it again?
the other answered:
i wouldn't.

Ego or Request To a Friend

To Frank O'Reilly

write to me about the leaves
about the sea
about the stones
about the seeds
about the air
about the cross
about what’s there
left to be lost
write to me
about angels
about fire
about joseph and the manger
magdalene’s desire
write about the garbage in dublin
about the dust
about impotence
about lust
about plush whores
about dry saints
about these wars
that make us faint
about the green
the impossible blue
write to me anything
don’t write about you