My Experiments With Haiku

My latest attempts at haiku:

The fighter planes flew
Low over despairing homes
And dropped gifts of death.


The student bends low
Over his pile of books, his
Back to the window.


The once-mighty hawk
Now lies still with broken wings
Beside the black stream.


She picked up a book.
A Bible, welcoming her.
She threw it away.

At The Station

I was waiting for the subway train.
A crowd of young people rushed in
On their way to and from busy work;
And even younger people, too,
With far more urgent destinations.
I stood, and they buzzed around me,
Waiting impatiently for
The slow train to dash in there.
I heard sighs of relief when it arrived.
They embarked, and it sped off like a bullet
Shooting them nowhere at all.
I turned, and hobbled away with my cane
Back upstairs to wait at the tram station.

Drowning

You cannot breathe:
Suffocation.
Water around you, water inside you,
Hair streaking wildly behind you.
One shaft of sunlight
Pierces the murky depths;
Swim towards the rays,
Cling to a fading hope.
Kick, kick.
Stroke, push.
Kick, kick.
Muscles on fire.
Break the surface in a glittering shower,
Gasp for air – take in a mouthful of water,
Thrash around in desperation – will you live?
Water around you, water inside you,
Hair streaking wildly behind you.
Arms and legs too heavy to move.
All said, all done.
You sink back down...

Hack To Pieces And Tear Asunder The Bodies Of Mine Enemies

My axe is wielded high over you
Poised to rip your intestines apart;
For I am the beautiful arrogant Cybele
Orgasmically pleased to savour your heart.
My crimson knife sculpts your chest,
Exposing a fear-pale airless lung.
I demand proof of your devotion:
Emasculate yourself and your young.
Offer your magnificent corpse in my service
- Grandiose funeral prostitution behold -
Your luscious skin perforated in place,
Ornamented with barbed wire of gold;
Sacrifice your ruby teardrops;
In royal thorns, enrobe yourself;
For you are my demonic priest
Sworn to suffer, pledged to myself...