Cuttings: September
Haiku, Senryu, Brief Poems
Summer Season, Autumn-Fall
1998 - 2025
By Mike Garofalo
Place, Setting, Location:
Vancouver,
Clark County,
Columbia River Valley,
Washington,
2017-2025
Branches filled with blackbirds
chirping time in swaying leaves.
Spent the hour, and could be heard,
then disappeared.
Leaving silent leaves.
A rooster crowed thrice,
Splitting the silence of the night.
Distant, near,
Breath by breath,
Over the edge of heartbreaks;
Facing imminent death.
Arrested in a garden,
and dead in a day;
He left behind baskets fine
All filled with bread, fish, and wine.
[The Garden of Gethsemane;
Matthew 26:36-46.]
Shadows from a slice of moonshine
Ripple down the sagging vines
Unburdened of their sweet red sex,
Withered, grotesquely bent, impotent.
Yet they live on, now as I:
Mouthfuls of wet seeds turned to chyme,
Reborn as muscles, eyes, and Mind.
After nightfall
the winds die away—
clear summer sky.
Leaf after leaf
turns yellow—
the fall of summer.
homeward bound—
steering around
tree down
death poem
scribbled—
unreadable
We are strangers
this tree and me—
taxonomy does not help
Place, Setting, Location:
Red Bluff, Tehama County,
North Sacramento Valley,
California, 1998-2016
the back door
bangs shut!
September gust
tidy garden—
her doubts
tied in a line
dead fox head
on the road's edge—
flags at half mast
a wet pile
of dead doves—
Labor Day sports
Quieter now,
the cooing of doves;
unloaded shotguns.
shallow puddle
slowly drying ditch—
flopping fish
A huge nest of Wasps
In the Pyracantha's claws
Sharp and still at dusk
Broadway 2000
Cats closing,
T.S. Eliot's last "Meow"
morning coffee sans sugar
sipped in silence—
still her cold shoulder
flip flopping
horsetails;
flooded field
suddenly
she sneezed
into the moonflower
Beyond
the scarecrow's reach,
stray goats.
Shriveled figs
hang on the branch—
hospice courtyard.
Bunches of red grapes
shriveled up—
handfuls of raisins.
campus clarion
keeps the pace for the place
time after time
(9 + 11 + 01) x Jihad = (- 3300 - 4 - 3) + shock
full of seeds
sunflowers
face the earth
Withered vines,
crispy leaves—
summertime leftovers.
Clear-cut ------------------------
sunburnt shrubs, oozing stumps,
raw bulldozer ruts ::::::::::::::
I caught my step;
Stopped, reared back, eyes stuck!
The snake was still.
Midnight—
the smell of skunk
on the southern breeze.
Bad karma bleeding
over centuries of hate;
a heartless eye for a blind eye,
a toothless scream for another.
We wiped away
our tears—
late summer sunset.
[9/11/2001]
Dust gathered by chance
welcomed home by the porch—
the broom stands askance.
Sacred Heart's steeple
in the half-moon light—
distant thunder.
Entering
the old church;
clear holy water.
Cleaning up woodpiles
cord of walnut on the way—
black spiders scatter
eyes horizontal
nose vertical;
a mind stood up
side
down
put away the tent.
my friend died.
why bother camping lakeside.
She passed away
on her journey of no return;
leaving her bottomless soul.
While sitting in my den one summer evening,
reading and writing, my white cat, Ms. Q,
jumped into my lap.
As I stroked her soft fur,
and she purred with delight,
she bit the edge of the spiral notebook
I was writing on:
I write, the cat bites;
the spiral notebook in hand
holds words and tooth marks.
This cat in my lap
purring, eyes closed, ears back—
fur on my fingers.
Sunset settles on
Mount Yolly Bolly's peak—
Summer has gone.
Killing 3,000 people
to sleep with 60 virgins in Allah's heaven?
Men have one testicle too many.
Vomiting
up the stench of burnt corpses—
cheering zealots can't smell.
open gate
saluting
daybreak
His rice field ripens
in September sunshine—
he died today anyway.
Oreo is my dog, of Shepherd-Husky mix,
three years old, in 1999, alert,
a wanderer, curious, a troublemaker,
always hungry:
Oreo chews a wet bone
shaded by the low arbor;
the flies wait their turn.
The dog pounced
on the broken-winged dove,
Eyes still alive!
The scattered feathers
of a dead mourning dove;
blood in the dog's lair.
Cool wind at our backs,
a whiff of summer drifts by—
the dogs' noses rise.
just like a man!
The macho metaphysics
of a bull in a Temple—
Knight of the Creatrix.
Lake Almanor is a large scenic mountain
lake in nearby Plumas County. Douglas fir,
ponderosa pine, Western red cedar and
manzanita grow right down to the rocky
shoreline. Mt. Lassen and Brokeoff
Mountain, the remnants of ancient
Mount Tehama, all volcanoes, loom above
all at the northwest end of the lake.
Lake Almanor is a recreational haven
for families from the hotter
North Sacramento Valley.
Water skiers racing by
Motorboats on Labor Day—
Their waves slap the shore.
Small boys throwing stones
gathered from volcanic shores—
the lake swallows more.
Gurgling streams—
Mount Lassen's snow
melts
down.
From the mountain's breast
Mill Creek, Deer Creek, Battle Creek flow;
Feeding crops below.
Restless bull
wants his cows—
gate locked.
Full moon
not up—
I stumble forward,
blind.
ditch Full
pumps Humming...
Work Begins
The train's blaring horn
runs beyond the tracks and streets—
startling us.
Sparrows bathe and dance
in the spray of the sprinkler;
the sun dries their wings.
Lined along barbed wire
shitting cows staring me down—
I piss and stare back.
Green Yellow Tan Brown,
The wilted leaves fallen down;
Crunched by her shoes.
Daylight peeking in
through the parted window blinds;
I pull up my pants.
Fishing guides sip coffee
chatting about the Chinook holes—
trolling for clients.
Snarling heat
refusing to retreat—
Dog Days
Dragonflies mating,
hovering over puddles—
thirsty for loving.
The fifteenth foul fart
rumbled down my bloated gut—
chewed chili beans.
Lightening bolts:
cutting purple thunderclouds
covering blue mountains.
A few cards
short of a full deck;
he played well anyway.
The freight train rumbles by: a few almonds drop,
star-thistles quiver, off steel wheels bounce rocks.
Logging rigs and river
roaring down Klamath Canyon—
cold rain falls.
The hungry dogs
bark at the back door;
the cat circles her bowl.
Bundled Up: Quintains and Tankas
Cuttings: Haiku and Short Poems
Arranged by the Seasons
25 Steps and Beyond: Collected Works
At the Edges of the West, Volume 1
Highway 101 and Hwy 1: Pacific Coast
At the Edges of the Fertile West, Volume 2
Highway 99 and Interstate 5
Months and Seasons |
|||
Mike Garofalo lives in Vancouver, Washington. He worked for 50 years in city and county public libraries, and in elementary schools. He graduated with degrees in philosophy and library science, and did further studies in business and education. He has been a web publisher since 1998.
25 Steps and Beyond: Collected Works
Copyrighted 1998-2025.
By Michael Peter Garofalo
Green Way Research
Vancouver, Washington State
All Rights Reserved.
Creative Commons License 4.0 2025
Cuttings: Seasonal Haiku
First distributed on the Internet
in September 1999. Updated in
March 2017.
This document was last edited,
revised, reformatted, added to,
changed, improved, or modified
by Mike Garofalo on
May 6, 2025.
