In my opinion the haiku is both the simplest and most complex of poems.  If a haiku does not leave the reader crippled, then it has not succeeded.  Please comment on the following poem.  If you have not been left speechless, then you have not been adequately touched.

Upon falcon’s wing,
Crisp silence splits the senses,
Leaving one’s sight pure.

Please be brutally honest about your opinion of this poem.  A haiku leaves no room for error.

– Author’s Note –

I may or may not have had a couple of drinks before posting this message late last night.  That could explain why the surrounding text is a little dramatic.  Here is another Haiku, written in the cold light of day after a couple of Tylenols…

Succulent mind games,
Create the perfect storm, that
Echoes evermore.

I wonder which you will like more… Sober Haiku, or Drunken Haiku?

The Warbler’s Song

As summer sweetly burns the hours,
The morning’s dew will heal our pain.
Not oft the bee forgets the flowers,
Nor sun forgets to dry the rain.

Stilled by the echo of the ghost,
Chilled by the winds beneath our wing,
We have tomorrow at the most,
We have today to feel the sting.

Can you imagine moving past,
The hours that hover through the air?
Can you discern the trumpet’s blast,
That tolls the end to nature’s prayer?

With winter clawing at our backs,
The Guardian presses close at hand,
The mourning lark lets drop the axe,
The timid song turns from the land.

Roll Back the Curtain

Three stories,
Performed in sequence,
Bathed in moonlight,
Intriguing no one.

A young harp,
Carved of ash,
Polished smartly,
Left to rot.

The mummer’s maiden,
Seen from stage right,
Dreams of silver,
Ashamed to sing.

A world grown colder,
Her eyes turned down,
Believes in nothing,
Smiles alone.

When did this happen,
Who gave the order,
Where was the poet,
What let us down?

The babes of springtime,
Deceived by autumn,
Roll back the curtain,
Unveil the scene.

For all that’s certain,
Is come tomorrow,
And all that’s hollow,
Today abounds.


Love is,
but a whisper,
but a whimper,
but a word,

But a sequence,
but a cycle,
but a series,
but a chord,

But a moment,
but an instant,
but a second,
but a spell,

But a teacher,
but a student,
but a mentor,
but a hell.

Love is,
found tomorrow,
found today,
forever more,

Is a heartache,
is a serpent,
is a headache,
is a whore.

Love is,
but a perfume,
but a fragrance,
but a smell,

But a turmoil,
but a battle,
but a conflict,
but a cell.

Love is,
so subjective,
thoughts abound,

So elusive,
so conducive,
so conclusive,
does confound.

Yet the silence,
met by violence,
does deceive,
the mortal soul,

In the morning,
comes the warning,
what was halved,
can now be whole.

Love is,
Love is,

Love is,
Love is,

Love is,
Love is,

Love is,
Love is,


I would like to take a moment to introduce my first novel.

This project is ongoing and will hopefully one day be published by a real publishing house. One of the main goals of this blog is to both inspire me to write more frequently and to build an audience for what I hope will become a story that resides close to your heart. I find I perform better under pressure and knowing that there is a group of people that are actively waiting to read the newest update on my novel will be just the push I need to keep me on track.

My new friends, I present to you the first of my many offerings:

Taming the Tempest
Book One
The Elementalist Epoch

This story will follow a similar direction as the short story that I have presented to you, Tracking the Wind, except instead of 5,000 words it will be closer to 100,000.  The premise will be essentially the same, however.  In my novel we will follow two timelines instead of one, each set 1,500 years apart.  The older timeline will trace the journey of a young boy who has been given the impossible task of guarding the world’s greatest treasure; the knowledge contained in an ancient book of spells that bestows upon the reader the power to control the elements.  The present timeline will follow our hero, Kanduin, as he attempts to locate the lost knowledge and become the first Elementalist in over a thousand years by hunting down the wind Elemental and harnessing the powers of the tempest.  His ultimate goal in the series will be to utilize the great forces of Nature to restore the balance that has disappeared throughout the land.  Sadly, the Emperor of Quanis, our hero’s greatest foe, has all but destroyed the land in his quest to pilfer its natural resources.  Kanduin cannot allow this to continue and is motivated by the myths of days long past, the Legends of the Elementalists.

I am quite excited about this project and I hope that I can get some of you excited by it as well.  As always, comments, critiques and editing advice will be more than welcome.  I thank you in advance and I look forward to sharing my ideas with you.