For the other haiku from the notebook,  click
on "haiku notebook" on the menu above;  that page
is the earlier part of the notebook.  Since
a writer needs a discerning reader,  I'll rely on
you to determine the value of
anything on the two pages of the haiku
notebook.  But maybe at the end of this page
I'll select a few that I think might have
some poetry.


the delicacy of things...
               winter evening in the woods
                              beech leaves trembling

in the dark room     darkened room
               letting the phone ring      phone ringing
                               the full moon of Christmas     
                               window's bright moon
in the darkened room
           letting the phone ring
                      Christmas moon


after the train clatters past
cricket chirping
wild daisies

after the train clatters past
         in the wild daisies
                     a cricket chirping

porch's flowerbox
spiderweb

dangling honey-
bee husk

NYC
roofline air shaft    hot nights -
star-ypointed dark

the tall meadow grass
          at every step
                      a butterfly ascending

circles on the pond
            only a drop or two
                        among the watergrasses

cool September day
                buzzing about my room
                             a honeybee                (honeybees)

above the porch swing
                painted white
                             petunias in a pot

Christmas Eve
                my mother's voice trails off
                              silent telephone                 empty telephone


for this Christmas Eve
                   many-colored Christmas lights
                                    shadow on the door

flashing yellow Christmas lights
                startled me
                           porno-shop mirror

      NYC
lights in the apartment house
only a few dark

aching with sorrow

               ready to open
                             cherry blossoms

her clear grey eyes
                 how they look at me
                                 as if forever

       from outside:

night-cricket's star-song
               open window's lighted room
                              on wall, crucifix

the butterfly that
              flutters and glides
                       and I too warmed by the sunlight

a sunny day in June
             a whistling gust of wind
                         suddenly a door slams

the Spring breeze lifts the curtains
                   he sits by himself
                                and thinks of nothing

muddy water-rut
               pops up frog's face
                          at me blinks           blinks at me

turtle sinks back down
              ripples     (with)
                         depths of pond

while baby Michael
                 splashes in the tub
                              one toy boat is sinking

like the water glittering in
            the hot  sunlight
the dragonfly
         (shimmering dragonfly)

hospital's air-cooled gift shoppe
            puppy-dog doll's sad sad eyes


between the sea and the sky
               sails along on the wind
                               a butterfly

cold dingy room
              left of his saintliness
                        cracking walnuts

locomotive, tar-paper shack
               yellow dandelions
                             by the track

high-up, fluttering
                 in the Spring sunlight -
                              she grips the string and looks



..............................................................................................

From now on  I'm selecting the less embarrassing.

moonlight on the snow -
               remembering
                           I begin to weep

or was I weebing?

old Willoughby High School
                tonight with stars
                              crackling leaves underfoot

sparkling sea beach
             tiny white spider
                          dashes over a rock

...................................................................
at this point the computer
started in italic and  wouldn't stop
.....................................................................

in the blue summer sky
            the curtains blowing
                         in the open window
in the clear sky
               the curtains blowing

                             in the open window

clump of tender white crocuses
                       bright green

                                         pushed up everything

it could be winter
              but for the robin's evening song

the buds just bursting
              ache in my heart
                          the morning of the moon

although I'm cooped-up -
                    Spring rain
                              on the window

Memorial Day lament:
             hermit thrush
                            sunlit forest's voice
                         
      TV Funeral of John Paul 2:

in Florida viewing
                   how in Kracov crowds
                                    are watching Rome

mirror-pool butterfly
            abandons her mate
                         in mirror play

Grandpa's backyard
             forgotten picket-fence
                         ancient plum in bloom

in the silence
              beaver lodge
                         light of early Spring
                      ( not original)

   - Mathematical mass-murder:

delicate dials quivering
               secret control-room

                           monitor's eerie light

old pine in rain
              tiny baby frogs
                          scurrying away

among the green watergrasses
                the clear bright water
                               black tadpoles wiggling

Christmas Eve
             lifting the shade
                           the snowy night

old house on
an old street

woodchuck darts
under the porch

an old house on an old street
                a woodchuck darts
                              under the porch

mud creek in the woods
               fifties' Chevy
                            the roof still shows

snow falling
              beaver lodge
                        in the dark
(many versions)
beaver lodge
               in the dark          (in the night)
                          snow falling

for an hour while       
the snow drifted

I waited for the
phone to ring

sunny autumn morning
           a bee
                   buzzes in my ear

grey October morning
                 a light rain
                              in the empty backyard

clinging to the windy flowers
                   diaphanous-winged
                                    humblebee

Manhattan dawn
               the smell of garbage
                              a cab goes by

    emergent phenomena
                   universal Turing machine:

"anything else, sir"
             the computer
                        asks

....................................................................
switching to a different  computer
still italics!
....................................................................

bitter bitter cold
               the red bird whistling
                               in the mist
(in the white mist at sunrise)
"bitter bitter cold "
sounds like a cardinal's whistle

wisp of a bug
            in my coffee  -
                        born to fly

     NYC:
the footsteps stop
              outside my door
                              cold winter night


waking up, this
               long winter's nap

                            - as if from death 

 

.......................................................................
.......................................................................

darkness comes to the
            cold autumn river
                        the owl hooting

doomed to discover
               it's always horribler
                             than I thought

the quiet apartment
              the silence
                          autumn darkness

a print on the log
             the heron has vanished

                           in the falling snow

flagpole rope ringing (and ringing)
                 in the solitary park
                               a day in Spring

with a tragic
smile, young man's

passing whiff of
funny smoke

behind the shed
           forgotten canoe
                      the gentle rain

a still night
        in my window's Christmas lights
                   the dark

gray October morning
               light rain
                        in the empty backyard

dazzling noon river
            and deep and dark
                          the dazzling woods

ephemeral shadow
              of a wraith - and yet -
                             damn mosquitoe


fresh dew at dawn
           summer's end is
                      a single fallen leaf

night and silence
            in my window's Christmas lights
                              the dark

bitter bitter cold
             the redbird whistling
                            for sunrise and Spring

          Lake Erie dreaming:
                       (after John Wills) -

pale almost
           invisible moon
                     it's dawn

butterflies
           hiding
                    it's dusk

     Lake Erie dreaming - late summer
               (66years old):

swimming in the green water
               listening to Bach
                           thinking: it must all end

     Lake Erie:
beach fires in the dark
           glowing ashes
                         at dawn

outside the screendoor    cicadas rattling    the lonely kitchen

Sat night:    5 year old daughter   radiantly smiling at me

without Bach      there's nothing    winter nightfall

morning in Spring    wandering the Willoughby      cemetery
                                     in the cemetery sunlight
morning in May           alone in the cemetery

tiny quick-moving spider        it jumps       kitchen in the stifling heat

rabbit tracks      out on the moon-shining snow        cold cold Christmas night

next door backyard:       

little children giggling      late in summer      old dog's tail wagging

       And the whole universe too:

just unfurling
              trilliums in the
                             warm sunshine

together but alone       a gathering of trilliums      in the sunlight

empty dawn      the frozen river     birds flitting silently

    Midwinter Spring:

old man
        whistling back
                   to the redbird

winter sunset     a few fluttering      snowflakes

real-estate Christmas party     permed silver hair     clicking poker chips

  NYC:  Andy Warhol (Elegy):

     in the frog's open mouth
     see the darkness

tell me the lonliness
            the dark river
                      with fireflies and frogs

tell me the lonliness     the dark river     with fireflies and frogs

Bravi, Bravi, I cried     making an ass of myself     oh, long ago

   New Jersey:

the State Hospital     bars on the windows     a face looks out at the swamp

   roar of the

   Interstate

   sunlight in the
   forest glade

here I am
a non-existent being

in a non-existent universe

profound lonliness

raining in the silence     a Spring night     without thoughts

sunlight in the woods     a snail has     crawled up my shoe
in the woods, silence       a snail has      crawled up my shoe
in the silent woods        a snail has      crawled  up my shoe

flagpole rope ringing and ringing       in the solitary park       a Spring day

old man     contemplating the graveyard     filling up with snow
old man        the graveyard filling up with snow

a strange bird on a twig      the empty woods in snow
                                                          snow falling in the empty woods

outside the screendoor        cicadas rattling       the lonely kitchen

beside the woods     snow falling     a wobbly legged fawn
                 something can be done with this

gutter's icicle        happily       dripping and running
deep autumn     solitary fields and thickets
when I snap off the lamp            winter nightfall
Good Friday     peeling an orange     listening to the French Suites
Good Friday   12 to 3   peeling an orange    listening to the French Suites
fierce hawk   eating its kill       winter deepening

tanka-
this cold May morning alone

just I and an unknown bird
both in the silence
the bird singing and singing
and singing


remembering the Spring    mist, flowers, bird-calls    just as other years
still lived-in    old cottage     in the warm drizzle
trembling like cherry blossoms     outside the courtroom
in the dark house    winter quiet     snow blowing outside
winter night    moonlight on the snow    shines in my eyes
silently the rabbit just ahead of the cat
isn't this interesting,  what will become of me?

How little I ask  of life
Yet it's too much to ask.
Drudgery just to fill my belly
Leaves me tired every day.
I know life amounts to nothing,
But suffering is a problem.
With food to eat, and a little shack,
Solitude, and mountain air,
I would be a happy man.
I think I could forget my memories.
Some books maybe would be OK,
And my food I could grow myself.
         cliches
          diction

under the car, working:

joyful, without purpose
        it doesn't matter what I do
sunlight through the motor and the linkage
        I listen to the summer birdsong
                                     

"in the light of the candle the
harlot and the murderer read
together from the holy book"
- Crime and Punishment

baby rabbit, in lilac time
I don't need you, you don't need me
but I'm so glad you're there
in the backyard
and I'm still here too

only last year, only last Spring
your mother left you behind
you rear up to look around

just like she did
baby rabbit

artifact poem :
Monument Of Tears   - WBY township  Thanksgiving 2008
Old graveyard by the Grange
High above the river,  on the ridge
     "George Yarker
       28 Nov 1860 -  25 Nov 1862
             OUR DARLING"
The stone is discolored
letters worn away
cars pass on River Road
but noone ever stops

endless cars pass (endlessly)
endless cars pass by       (cars pass by endlessly)
but noone ever stops

"Interurban"  trestle-bridge foundation:
     close light-splintered river jungle
     under the ancient, cliff-high
     (stone wall )        wall of stone

robin's evening song     robin's evening song
April night's melody     April night's beauty

Peregrine falcon       2 feet left    of the redbird
in the backyard
2 feet left     feathers of the redbird

noddingly bent over     ripe sunflower     immensely satisfied
                                                         immensely   fulfilled

grunting like a pig   playfully smiling     radiant
evening snow    the sun coming out in the pines    for a moment
the June day is so blue and bright       I tinker with the car
where do you think you're going     on such a hot day     Mr. Butterfly
finding a coin in  my shoe      I was strangely amused
with purity and humility downlooking rainwet trilliums
two bumblebees copulating in air a million dandelions
a sculpture (rocks from the Chagrin River):
            frog stone
                   as if dreaming
                             in the stillness
frog stone as if dreaming in the stillness

wishing that winter would last forever endless snow falling
winter is over smashing wild onions the fresh smell
                           smashing hillside onions    woods onions
winter is over smashing wild onions in the woods the fresh smell

white shed in the heat dark inside door left open
dark inside       white shed in the heat door left open

I realize I am only spirit (and) as I return to the darkness
                                    I want only to sing

noon in the garden killing morning glories in the hot sun

joyful in the morning
I went behind the greenhouse
and heard in the woods
the hermit thrush
and I began to weep

floating in the green sunlighted water  crickets chirping in the woods
..............................................................................................................
poems written in the terrible years in Florida -
I did learn a lot
..............................................................................................................

the beach after the sun has set        she alone     clapping

      purity (title):                   
the wasp is sipping     morning dews      from the pine needles

the other butterfly     in the swamp matches      her zig and her zag

the frogs are croaking    in the ghostly swamp    in the ghastly dark         
the frogs are choiring      in the ghostly swamp     in the ghastly dark

Spring dusk      time passing     getting darker

auto-shop lighted-up    by the railroad tracks    fireflies drifting

dinner laughter nearby    cricket chirping in the bushes      autumn dark

       "Who is Nietzsche?"

my sister, old      innocent of Nietzsche     emptiness

++++haiku from 40 years ago that I just realized were never in the notebook:

the spider
           does he know the wasp is eating him?
                               the lonely garage


  rain-wet asters in my hair
          I stroll beside the TV store                                 
                            forever

the haiku about the crow on the roadkill hot asphault road     

                my huge shadow
                             by the bathroom nightlight
                                             seems like part of the nightmare
                                                                                               (2019)                                                             
woods crow perching
                 on the roadkill
                                 hot asphault road