by Dan DiPiero
When I have left, don’t
force the issue–
let me go like so many seeds
by Dan DiPiero
When I have left, don’t
force the issue–
let me go like so many seeds
Seekers make up my closest friends.
Those who never seem to be relieved.
I am perhaps one.
Sure to claim no relief, but much to overcome.
There are parts of me that can’t wait to learn and grow.
Others feel the weight of the wide world and get stuck.
I’m on the outer-edges.
Some among my friends,
seem to have hit something like gold.
With no fear: true.
It isn’t that I’m afraid of being true, just that there won’t be a
single friend left after I’m through with the true.
Life blows up.
HELLO. In case you haven’t checked it out yet, LOOK at THESE collaborations between Dan DiPiero and I.
Also, I’ve had a few more than normal GUEST posts recently. Like THIS one, which is by Jordan Reed. As you can see, it is NOT a haiku, but it is “still good.”
Wrote a haiku piece based on THIS haiku. Have not played it yet. #toomuchgoodmusic
Love having people read my things and like it. SUBMIT something of your own. Or do you have a COLLABORATION idea? Send it to me!
Happy post-Thanksgiving fasts. Eat your fruits and veggies and drink plenty. Water and otherwise.
Expression of mind,
flows through pen over paper.
Thought is laid with ink.
I/We are/am at home with
lined paper; blank it beckons.
Precise, honest, raw.
A first draft or a
letter or postcard; a note.
We are what we share.
And the thoughts of those
who came before us, change us.
And we change the air.
Wrath of, and the price
of winning and losing. Dark,
but the light is dimmed.
Tell me about the
third one. He’s there and gone. They
seem unaffected.
Tell me about the
third one. He looks a puppet.
Controlled by they, we.
Tell me about the
third one. He is rigid and
stark, expressionless.
His mouth moves not and
his eyes don’t dart, nor lips purse.
His brow raised, slightly.
His breath seems shallow,
put on. He breathes with shoulders;
[: rising and falling :]
by Dan DiPiero
The homeless man takes
care returning the stone to
its place near the tree
by Dan DiPiero
In the receding
black water, the sloshing sand
I see my future
Thanks to Dan DiPiero and his gentle nudging, I am a tweeter. Now you have three places to see most of the same content! GREAT!
Check it out here.
A calendar page is also upcoming. I’m hoping it stays updated with my playing commitments. I also hope it isn’t embarrassingly empty.
Love and well wishes for all.
I don’t generally do this sort of thing but I wanted to update you on some exciting things that are abound.
The “Friend(‘)s” page is up and running with an archive of all the guest submissions (we have 2!). Feel free to go to the “Guest Submissions” page at any time and submit a haiku or two (<- rhyme) anonymously or otherwise. This is exciting.
Additionally, Aaron Quinn (also @ BusTown) wrote a (couple of?) piece(s) based on my haiku (and one non-haiku). He is guitarist/new music composer/husband (WHOA!)/friend/ and despite his best efforts otherwise, a super rad guy based in Columbus (but probably not forever). Check out his stuff! More to come on this.
Also, Dan DiPiero and I are planning a series of haiku WITH ILLUSTRATION soon. He is a drummer/new music composer/illustrator/food connoisseur/and author based in the quasi Los Angeles (Cal Arts) area but FROM Cleveland, whom I met in Columbus and hopefully someday soon back in the midwest. I’m not sure what this will be exactly but I’m thinking of calling it “People and Me and People” or something. Get excited and check him out too. I’ve been meaning to collaborate with him for a long time and it should be an exciting venture. More to come on this TOO.
Thank you for reading. Any day I get more than 3 readers I feel lucky and strange. SUBMIT SOMETHING. Loves.
Alex