Asleep I am aware
Awake I can ignore
And in the drowsy place between
the two there is a door.
I know it leads to answers but
I cannot seem to find
the strength or the ambition
to unlock my mind.
Or maybe I’m afraid
of what’s behind the door.
Asleep I am aware
Awake I can ignore.
#158
Once more, once more into the fray
but what the poet didn’t say
was once that fray is overcome
you’ll probably face another one.
It seems for some the fray’s eternal
whether inner or external.
for fray is just another term
for strife and every breath confirms
that fray is just around the bend
waiting for you once again,
once more, once more until you say
‘no more, no more into the fray.’
#157
One day when the weather is perfect
and my chores are all caught up and done
when my aches and pains have all vanished
and there’s nothing to do but have fun
I’ll enjoy it for maybe ten minutes,
before tiring of this reward,
then turn to you and say “C’mon,
let’s start something new, I’m bored!”
#156
If I could I would live in the silence
between two notes
inside the quaver of a sweet vibrato.
The music would spiral around me
like a personal force field;
a pure white symphony to dampen the
dark cacophony ringing in my ears.
#155
Beginnings are hard.
No one cares about your plans,
begin, just begin.
Middles are harder.
Carry on carrying on
though no one watches.
Ends are hardest.
Knowing when to say ‘enough’,
rest, and start again.
The three hardest things,
beginning, middle, and end,
are all that matters.
#154
The waves are higher now
they have eaten the sand at my feet
and knocked me down day after day.
But not this day.
This day I paddle out to meet them,
harness them, ride them, become them
feel their power, see their course,
and when they fall I will have learned to
cast myself forward into dreams,
knocking down obstacles,
but, unlike the waves and
unlike the obstacles,
I will not fall.
#153
Eye due knot knead you’re flours
oar you’re complements too sea
ewe dew knot no witch weigh eye sale
oar wear eye wont too bee
Eye prey four piece, eye prey four rein
Eye prey four ewe a gain end a gain.
Butt awl ewe wont too halve eye no
cant bee aloud too bee.
#152
Perhaps art is just
the child of the Universe
drawing with crayons;
dance, her innocent
skipping to the beat of the
Universe’s heart;
music, her humming
in the darkness until sleep
crawls in beside her;
poetry, just her
crayons accidentally
forming random words.
#151
I have never heard
a better reason to wake
than the redwing’s song.
=
Harken another
divine barrage, and a song,
the sweet tweet hovers.
#150
the second haiku is an anagram of the first while still holding to the 5-7-5 syllable form.
I – The Reanimation
Sleepy little granules of yeast
in a warm sweet bath.
Shelly’s mad scientist fanning
the spark of life.
II – The Integration
A little fat, a little salt
become one with a big bowlful of flour.
Lean Lawrence crosses
the Arabian sands.
III – The Inundation
Water, water with the yeast in it,
Flooding the dusty, floury world.
No ark here
all are drowned.
IV – The Agitation
Stir it stiffly.
Knead it rhythmically.
Willie’s witches stir
a bubbling cauldron.
V – The Trepidation
Will it rise?
Will it come again?
Watch for the Whale
Thar she blows.
VI – The Retardation
Knock it down
Start over.
Like Tom Joad
Just trying to get along.
VII – The Formation
Shape and mold
into a pleasing form.
Kim shapes the world
and the world shapes him.
VIII – The Rejuvenation
Tenacious leavening
bubbles expand within.
Once more into the breach,
Willie once again, and why not?
IX – The Transformation
Into the oven,
Hot air wafts to meet you
Like the faint hot breeze
before Atlanta burned.
X – The Coronation
King of the dinner table
crowned with a light brush of butter.
Pull the sword from the stone
and cut a slice of life.
#149
Linda Studley 