Bag of Words is my latest poetry collection. It features my most recent poems, most of which are haikus. There are also a few experiments with the form known as a naga-uta. There are some sixty odd poems in the collection.
I had intended to stop writing any poetry at all, as I felt that I had reached the end of what I wanted to say with that form. But I still occasionally come up with ideas, even though usually just for haikus. There is also the fact that, when I am stressed out, that writing poetry, however bad, helps to call me down.
Here are a couple of poems from the collection.
The square is empty
And all the pigeons have gone
Rain falls from the clouds
Skittering across the slabs
Then into gutters.
Umbrellas turned inside out
Revealing their spines
They’re discarded on the ground
Ruffled by the wind
Footsteps hurry to the trains;
High heels clattering
Race to get out of the rain
Into the station
Wait for the six o’clock train
Outside, it still rains.
Ultimus Gentis Suae
He wanders through the graveyard stones
And looks for certain names.
He searches for the buried bones
Of long dead knights and dames.
They were the lords and ladies fair,
Of this old man’s old line;
And this old boy is well aware,
Death will his name consign.
He never met the perfect mate,
And now he’s out of time.
He left such matters far too late,
And now he’s passed his prime.
No son to take his noble name,
No daughter’s dowry cost.
He’s almost finished with this game;
Though rich, he knows he’s lost.
He comes upon an old, grey stone;
A grave of some forbear;
The faded words, grass overgrown,
The grave’s in bad repair.
Forgotten men, beneath the sod,
This is his fate to be;
He knows full well there is no God
And no eternity.
So when he dies, his name will too;
The last man of his line.
There’s nothing now that he can do,
But smile at life’s design.