BASHO SKETCHES

RAINIER BEACH HAIKU

BUNGALOW SHACK

PUGETOPOLIS HAIKU

THE GATES MANSION

CABANA MORNINGS

FLOATING WORLD

LAKESIDE LIVING

MONSOON SEASON

DAILY ROUTINE

WINTERTIME 

_______________________

RAINIER BEACH HAIKU 

BASHO 

The narrow road to—

The interior is there

Deep inside one’s mind

THE FROGS

I take a long toke—

Sitting on the dock one night

The frogs stop croaking

THE LAKE

Lake Washington is—

In constantly wavy motion

Nothing stays the same

BUNGALOW SHACK

BUNGALOW SHACK

I sometimes wonder—

If Basho would’ve liked it

Here by the lakeside?

ROADWAY

Along the roadway—

Blossoming azaleas

Down the long hedgerow 

HYDRANGEA

The perfume of the—

Hydrangea clings to the

Frail Butterfly’s wings

PUGETOPOLIS HAIKU

SEATTLE

Seattle has been so—

Accommodatingly kind

To me a poet

JAPAN

Like Japan was to—

James Kirkup after all

That English angst

RAINIER BEACH

Named after the great—

Mount Fuji down to the South

Looming in the sky

THE GATES MANSION

MEDINA

Bayliner floating—

Offshore of Medina while

They build the Gates home

BUNKER

It’s a huge bunker—

Sunk deep into the shoreline

Concrete, old timber

LANDSCAPING

Then suddenly it—

Disappears as they landscape

It all beneath trees

PALACE

It was so amazing—

Watching them build a palace

That didn’t seem there

FLOATING WORLD

FLOATING WORLD

This old floating world—

Let it wash away my tears

And all my worries

ROYAL TOMB

It’s a royal tomb—

But what does it remember

Other than the Now?

NO MORE JOURNEYS

Somehow still alive—

The end of all my journeys

Summer evening

LAKESIDE LIVING

SEAGULLS

Across the dark lake—

The high seagulls are calling

Looking down at me

RAVENS

Gathering in the—

Highest branches of the fir

Playing at sunset

SUMMER CONCLUDES

Autumn is coming—

Soon I will have no other

Name but cold mornings

MONSOON SEASON

MONSOON SEASON

She’s girding her loins—

Chilly ferns & cold rice cakes

The morning fireplace

THE ALOOF TREES

The aloof Cedars—

Above it all Douglas Firs

Once a Rain Forest

TAINTED TUNA

Is my tuna safe—

Will Fukushima fuck me

Will Mount Fuji blow?

DAILY ROUTINE

MORNING

Reluctantly like—

A bee out of a flower

I crawl out of bed

GETTING GOING

A nice little fire—

Warming me in the morning

My cat and some tea

HERMITAGE

Recuperating—

Dreamland’s otherworldliness

Into this Other