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Image for the poem Haiku Hysteria, Senyru Sensations, A Bunch of Old Dreams

Haiku Hysteria, Senyru Sensations, A Bunch of Old Dreams

 


occurring on the
morning tide, wish my Leah
could have been with me


I missed I missed so
much love i missed sharing more
love than I can say


then when the tears fall,
the grass is not bothered, trump-
et vines blare un'shamed.


there's little to stop
a rage of river, little
to stop old man's  age.


come from a mist in
the morn'time. come from sea, fog
taste hints of dune'grass.


You'd think there's nothing
to loose here,  doggie will
shit on lovely lawn(s).


They''ll call cops to chas-
tise Doggy. Dawg prays for shit-
 storm more poopery.


Trauma teen years, I
ponder what if Diane loved
me (as lovers would).


Trauma golden years.
All who look older than me,
are younger.  Tough shit !


As I go As I
go As I go As I go
As I go, I'm gone.


Pugilists pummel
each other Right jab to the
chin Left hook a'head


Recalling spring time(s)
too many times to matter,
With Ann in the woods.


As truth would have it,
Truth comes too many to tend
to. Lies could care less.


Once we were naked
on the moonlit sand. The sea
called your name, "Kathryn".


Fashionable bull
shit. Trending horseshit.
Death for our dessert.  


Living the Life all
good Livers should, let's drink from
the vine of dear love.


If the moon were a
sweet melon, how far would
you fly for a taste?


Actually, no
one's home. What should we have been
expecting? The Dead?


Hell ain't nothin' but
a bunch of angels playing
with matches. It's fire!


Stop playing with com-
bustion. The bergs be melting.
Sea comes to living rooms.


Dada is dead, O! dead
da day!  Teach him to teach us
bad from good for naught.


Baseball is "perfect".
And so he threw a Perfect
Game just to prove it.


Baseball is one, two, three
strikes. For good measure,
four balls to play with.


A game at Ebbets'
Field would have made a perf-
ect day in Brooklyn.


spring, nineteen sixty three.
Kids ten years old playin' ball
in Fort Hamilton, Bklyn.

Sixty three again,
Kids playin ball watching Verr-
azzano a'rise.

Too many Flowers
to count. Let's put our coins a-
way, and just see them.


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2020dec4///dkzkpoomsandimperfectPixturs2020









Written by dkzksaxxas_DanielX (DadaDoggyDannyKozakSaxfn)
Published
Author's Note
"Find what you love and let it kill you." --- Bukowski
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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