I’m tired I say
but I must write
I reply
cuckoo clocks
my muse left
this morning
inspiration empty
hollow words and
hollow logs are places
in which
I hide
Category: Falling in Love
Rain (for Iain)
Skies wept today
in Hawaii it came
in sheets and
sprinkles it stopped
and started like a clogged
hose now my eaves are
dripping like the
boy and the dyke
skies the color of my
den a softened mouse gray
covers Diamond Head
and my tiny house the crest
of the volcano surrounded
by white balloons of rain
Waikiki is bustling not bubbling
effervescence of residents
dampened by moisture
skies resemble late afternoon
prematurely darkening gloom
lands on my valley like a lid
rain is coming down now
clarifying my streets and
alleyways the dirt going down
drains anticipating blue skies
tomorrow
Bubbles
I disappeared
today bubbles
popping while
poetry died
success bravo
they yelled before
ink was dry but I
absorbed the praise
like fountain pens
today I can’t write
but for lymrics you see
I met a man from
Liverpool
I wrote a short
poem instead
I might’ve said
hello
Hands
Making love
our hands dance
in darkness
clutching
grabbing
holding
our fingers
act like ivy
on our bodies
we fit together
naturally
but our hands
discover
new
territories
Past
Darkness surrounds
me the lid is closed
and I’m dying I
dream
waking sighing
I’m not dead but
my dream is
why dream of death
perhaps it’s not an
end but a beginning
a new beginning like
movie two double feature
maybe death is a renewal
of divinity
a mulligan
this life
might be fun if
remembered with
previous lives
there’s humor there
lives finding kindred
souls long lost friends
our world forces
us to forget our
pasts like
telling the joke
keeping the
punch line
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 