Cuttings - February
Michael P. Garofalo
February
Red Bluff, Tehama County, North Sacramento Valley, California
Awakening,
I hear the truth--
gray rain on clay.
Half-breed dog--
one ear up
one ear down.
cat and I
eye to eye
curled in the covers
Mt. Shasta
in my rear view mirror--
Madonna on the radio.
hundreds of bees
humming —
cypresses in bloom
The raspy-voiced crow
perched on a pine pole
preached the Winged Dharma;
wayward birds trembled, fearing
rebirth as human beings.
A dog barks at nothing,
a thousand ducks twitch--
winds of winter.
Circled round by
snowcapped peaks -
white blossoms.
Dragg'n my mind
round and round -
angry eyes
Nightmares
at noon -
flu sweat.
The oldest groundhog
died at dawn -
the rain stopped.
walking past
my old dog's grave
not a trace
Daily
rain -
from the deep well
this glass of water.
Blossoms dance down the sidewalks
as sunlight fades -
feeling my age.
And before the wise ones appeared,
Thousands of years of Coyote Tales.
truth in camouflage
steel gray
vague
soldiers march into the fog
Bee hives
stacked in almond groves -
Valentine's Day
peeping killdeers harmonize
with roadway hum -
piercing sun
Railing against
Do-Nothing Zen
Ekaku Haikuin presses that one hand, hard,
stamps his staff-
clap, clap, clap, Clap!
Shouting, spittle flying,
he prods, and pokes, and preaches
till the fawning monks scatter.
He sits alone the long cold night
gazing into the fires of hell.
Ivy crawls
the walls of Shoin-ji-
night boats pass in silence.
- Above the
Fog
warm valley--
countless geese
seeking refuge
"Eternal Truths" she said;
But in my heart of hearts,
They were forever dead.
crying over words
more than words--
sad songs
rereading Lao-Tsu
at daybreak
the heavens cleared
Bedside lamp aglow,
porcelain gleaming--
Shasta's turbines hum.
Biting off
more than I
can chew--
a broken wisdom tooth.
Almond blossoms
mixed with mud--
hailstorm.
Only the idea of self remains
Floating on a sea of cells;
Only heartbeats short of eternity
In breath after breath we dwell.
rain showers
come and go
shaping the hours
Cloud Hands: T'ai Chi Ch'uan and Chi Kung
puddles mark
the passing storm--
muddy boots
Yellow daffodils
bordered by hailstones--
migraine blur.
between the covers
and the snooze alarms--
snippets of sleep
Daffodils rise up
languid green--
soon to sing, "Spring."
Droning raindrops
trickling ..... trickling:
Winter Raga.
no chirping
no barking--
rainstorm
Dark trees
Darker clouds--
rain on my glasses.....
The Angel of Death
knocked once, knocked twice
my friend answered
Bad News
drove home with us
teary eyed
February - Quotes, Poems, Folklore, Ideas, Chores
drizzling
black skies--
dreams of summertime
Valentine's Day
Sipping steaming coffee--
their eyes playing
possibilities
Her silky blouse ...
Revealing!!
White
pear blossoms
creamy pear blossoms
wave in the winds--
he hands her a rose
Waving, nods, smiles gestures of trust
the woman touches his hand
he is calmed
Windswept away--
Valentine's Day
cards dropped
His snug red sweater
turns her head--
"nice buns."
Rogers and Hart long gone
Yet their song's resung
Reviving them in time--
A
Funny Valentine
[Ornamental pears: Pyrus calleryana
and Pyrus kawakamii
are covered with white blossoms in our area during the month of
February.]
"You are That."
I am not That,
but part of That am I
and I a bit of That,
for the time-being,
for awhile, a lifetime,
while That changes.
"That Thou Art."
Thou aren't That,
except "That" as understood,
as idea, as assumed, as imagined;
as I
think I am, believe I am, wish I was;
while That changes what I am,
or will be.
"That" is always elusive, expanding to
the edge of the Big Everything
at either end of infinity....
that is the way that That is,
not like this piece of popcorn
on the tip of my tongue.
Digging a hole
the shovel splits a white worm--
bare roots in the sun.
Squealing killdeers
sprinting across the path--
a jogger puffs by.
The pavement ended,
a dirt road began--
stopping in the rain.
Extra-black
Soaked almond trunks--
White-topped
Winter - Quotes and Poems for Gardeners
Old figs
unpruned, abandoned--
peacocks loose.
puddles remain
after the rain
mirroring inky moods
Counting syllables
5555
into five, seven, five -
77&
Military
Time.
5555
[dadaku
: concrete]
red bluffs
cut by a winter creek
a blue oak falls
stiff knees
sore legs
squatting slowly
Setting potted figs
along the warm southern wall--
a goose flaps by.
A sack of bones that shits and pees
After gobbling flesh, and fruits, and seeds.
Kadota figs
naked, sleeping in
a cold Saturday
strong children march
bent back by heavy backpacks--
between the bells
rain-soaked
olive branches droop
ground fogs rise
cold midnight
pounding rain--
only ghosts about
Stiff fingers-
shattered light bulb
underfoot.
Smells of wet grass
echo down the long rows--
leafless almonds
Pygmy goats munching
wet mustard greens--
the World digesting itself.
Gardeners focus on tasks, not on themselves.
- Pulling Onions
a hawk floats
in the breeze--
gophers peeking up
With each step
the sopping clay
Squishes.
Family pictures
frame the hallway--
sobering relics.
my breaths
mix with fog -
cold ears
worries--
in and out
of mind
Meaning lost
in the saying--
the mystic's dilemma.
The Night slips into the Labyrinths of
Dawn;
Puzzled, trapped, blinded by the Light,
Lost in the Corridors of the Sun.
Dark sky darker still Entering storm
She lights
mullen candle sticks--
Fires for Februa.
Not a leafbud
in a blue oak grove--
shadowless winter noon.
As unbending as Watch Towers
they stand and stand;
begging for attention.
Weeding my fiction books;
into the giveaway box
two old Bibles tossed.
Presidents' Day:
George, Abraham, Franklin ...
Hail to the Chief!
The curled cat twitches
paws over eyes
dreaming of flying
down teeming skies.
What does this mean?
"Imagining what we see."
Years ago
my mother died--
the sadness still comes
and goes.
She read her last mystery novel;
later fell into a deep sleep and died.
Her last words:
"I never thought
it would end
like this."
Bertha June Garofalo 4/2/1921 - 2/12/1994
Haiku
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Poems by Michael P. Garofalo
Haiku,
Couplets, Free Verse, Tanka, Senryu, Quatrains, Limericks, Fragments
One to Ten Line Poems
Comments About the Poetry Webpages of Mike Garofalo
Teaching Haiku Poetry: Links, References and Quotations
The
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Quotes
for Gardeners
Quotes, Sayings, Proverbs, Poetry, Maxims, Quips, Clichés, Adages, Wisdom
A Collection Growing to Over 2,700 Quotes Arranged by Over 135 Topics
Many of the Documents Include Recommended Readings and Internet Links.
Over 6MB of Text.
Compiled by Michael P. Garofalo
Pulling
Onions
Quips and Observations about Gardening
By Michael P. Garofalo
© 2005, Green
Way Research, Red Bluff, California
All rights reserved.
I Welcome Your Comments and Suggestions
A Short Biography of Mike Garofalo
Mike Garofalo's Poetry Notebook II
Cuttings: February - Winter Days
Haiku and Short Poems by Michael P. Garofalo
91K, 25 February 2005, Version 1.5
Waving Hands Like Clouds: Taijiquan and Qigong
Haiku Poetry: Links, References, Resources
Haiku and Short Poems by Michael P. Garofalo
