Saturday, July 23, 2011

Haiku (frustration)

a string of warm days
these bare branches do prevail
midst winter's cruel hold

© Strauss 23rd July 2011

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Haiku - Moreton Bay Fig (Scent)

four decades fulfilled
beside the Moreton Bay Fig
I am but a child

© Strauss 23rd July 2011

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Monday, July 11, 2011

The Demolition

An angry arm rises skyward; slamming down with cold intention; wood and metal are no match for this iron fist.

The heart has been ripped from this house; the soul, having already escaped, bears witness, quivering at the proceeding destruction, like a feeble animal in the shadow of a looming aggressor.

What remains are strewn across a razed field; spilling onto a grotty sidewalk beyond the chain-linked perimetre. A rusty letterbox stands erect like a tombstone out front - a somber guard inscribed with the number 9, who has turned a blind eye.
© Strauss 2011

Friday, July 8, 2011

Tulle cloaked bride

A gauzy veil silhouettes a softened landscape,
Leaving a world of vague shapes
To linger like enigmatic shadows.
Conifers spire toward the heavens;
Leafy renaissance towers
Shrouded in a lost world above.
Tiny birds bolt from a nearby cedar;
Feathered darts
Shooting through a tranquil haze.
I breathe this dawn enchantress
Before she vanishes with the heat of the day;
Knowing not when she might return,
To slink across my lawn with dewy steps,
Lick my eaves,
And caress the naked branches
With a thousand gentle tears.
The rains will lavish
These whisper-soothed lands
Like an insistent groom
Pursuing his tulle cloaked bride.
She will succumb.

© Strauss


Monday, July 4, 2011


Sunlight strains through a dust stained window,
Speckled in last spring’s dried raindrops.
Bruised shadows fan the entirety of a compromised chamber;
Not radiant, not luminous, not exactly dull, but – gentle and subdued.
They flicker as the sunlight plays with the stirring foliage outside
Like shadow puppets behind a calico screen.
I could cleanse the tainted glass;
Lift the burden from its smattered lens;
The light would then flood blindingly, naturally, dazzlingly,
But I have become accustomed to the bruised shadows,
And they trouble you not.
Those gentle bruised shadows, they dance for me.

© Strauss

Image by David Evans