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Joan McNerney


A Selection of Haiku: "Winter Notes"

The sun rose
another golden flower.

Winter enchanted
of iced lakes nude trees fierce winds
I am a witness.

More starling than
that windowpane red with sun
are your ice blue eyes.

Deep winterset night.
Sleepless stars glide through heaven
in aerial ballet.


​                   ❦



​Straining twisted arms
trees stretch to trap me
in their bare branches.

Thick snowflakes
tonguefulls we lap laughing
as sparks pinch my face.

Crystal seamstresses
trim rooftops in snowy lace.

Even Goya's portraits
are less intriguing than faces
of frost on my window.


        ❦
Picture


Joan McNerney's profile    

A snowflake
falls in my surprised eye
...all is black.

In our frail world, even meteors,
the eyes of heaven fall like dust
from God’s hands.

The three I love now
silent cool darkness.
Will it be so when I die?

Hushed cool mindless
snow innocently spread
smiles up.

Blown Away

I'm gonna have lunch with
the sky. It's been way too
long since we got together.

I'll run downstairs through
hallways into bursts of blue.
Perhaps never return to work,
words, paper clips, bookshelves.

Who needs cash when there's
so much green grass to hoard?
Forget about food. I’ll drink up
sunshine, nibbling juicy clouds.

O sky, you are my solar mate.
We will be faithful always.
Come home now...I will
never look at another.

Lost Landscape

I am driving down a hill
without name on an
unnumbered highway.

This road transforms into
a snake winding around
coiled on hair pin turns.

See how it hisses though this
long night. Why am I alone?

At bottom of the incline
lies a dark village strangely
hushed with secrets.

How black it is. How difficult
to find what I must discover.

My fingers are tingling cool, smoke
combs the air, static fills night.

I continue to cross gas lit streets
encountering dim intersections.

Another maze. One line
leads to another. Dead ends
become beginnings.

Listening to lisp of the road.
My slur of thoughts sink as
snake rasps grow louder.
See how the road slithers.

What can be explored? Where
can it be? All is in question.

Jazz

the kitchen sits
in fruit soup...
steamed apricot
mango shadow

down thru spinning
smoke into hot light
blink beat

body ends dangle
lead eye skin cement
high on tongue

night pasted among
buildings Styrofoam clouds
moon hung beneath billboard

rolling pass wet
rocked streets
soul tramp
diamond panhandlers watch
paper birds slices of
the daily news drift in air

comes cool ether
whispers up door
climbing dusty corridor

tree windows lapping lisp
door slams again noise again
then none void nothing syncopates
noise again door slams tree bare frozen

caught in the image of 7 candles
within 7 candles flames of air
7 light bulbs growing out of each other
7 silver circles coined from 7 silver rings

clear as blazing sheets
of glass yet
vague as dust
an ice cube on wood table
in front of crushed velvet
melt
poured
peeled

when this sky now boiling with
stars is strapped black
in pinched air thru sucked mind
swimming pass spaced time
will be one silent
note up.


Picture

"A" train

brassy blue
electric

close eyes
watch points
like stars

think now
how insignificant
compared to train
speaking for itself

stars known
in no language
burn shoot
thru
tiger's eyes

brain in
constant action
reaction

to what we do not know
plans of distant stars
galaxies floating as

"A" train
silver worm
slides under
big belly
of city

An Accountant

grabbled with
white ledgers
& tight rows
of numbers.

He could
calculate
the secrets
of ciphers.

Who else would
appreciate the
eloquence of one?
This fat place maker
known as zero? Why
mystics marveled
at the holy seven?

While he slept his
dreams multiplied.
Suddenly long division
subtracted an unknown
quantity yet sums still
added up.

Where had his equations                 wandered?

Comments?

***

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