if only my lungs could cleave each clove

*

then the dawn is nothing more than a particle of an orchid

*

in the bark of a tree like a comma

*

sage or magenta you pick the cause of deceit

*

could pass for gold the charred sea of lust

*Published in the 2023 edition of Under the Basho (PostKu section)

 moonlight falls

upon a quiet city

sometimes

a bit of magic

is so ordinary

*

another month

of social distancing

i share

my aches and dreams

with the curbside rose

*Published the 2020 edition of Under the Basho (Tanka section)

Blind Eye

sunrise through dust

they say a bad wind blows

along the Silk Road

rumors of death

as common as the sand

drawing blood

a plague doctor points

to the grey sky

thundering clouds

rows of hospital beds

replace verdant grass

all night lit and buzzing

the pharma skyscraper

in Wuhan

a new uncertainty blooms

while we turn a blind eye

*Published in the 2020 edition of Under the Basho (Linked Forms section)

*Written by Roman Lyakhovetsky and Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

collapsing into a black hole the fucks i give

*

pull the strings of a cello. the sun. a rifle.

*

in deep thought. saturn’s rings. an internal knife fight.

*

altered states of being the substrata of bees

*

even so

some like

the abuse

*Published in the 2020 issue of Under the Basho (Ku section)

the scent

of honeysuckle

last night’s dream

*

a twinkling

of stars

the muse returns

*Published in the 2020 issue of Under the Basho (Modern Haiku section)

abyss your sorry in A-flat

*

upon closer look each lightning bolt an aria

*

stronger now the pull of red’s moon

*Published in the 2020 issue of Under the Basho (One-Line Haiku section)

bathed in red church bells ring

*

autumn leaves falling into has been

*

in the river drifting through an ellipsis 

*Published in the 2019 issue of Under the Basho (One-line Haiku section)

#moderation

Sometimes, I have a salad for dinner. Other times, I eat a brownie the size of my head with frosting as deep as my foot.

daylight saving 

I turn my scale back

fifteen pounds

*

Dance, Monkey

"I haven't seen a selfie from you in a while. Are you okay?"

I look at the message for a minute before sending a short but pleasant response, reassuring Random Male that in the past few months since my last selfie, I have not indeed become a leper who has misplaced my eyeballs and developed a cleft palate. 

social media

the sweet sound

of nails on chalkboard

*

The Olive Branch

I struggle with telling people I am a Christian. And, quite frankly, because I am very liberal, many people assume I am not.

crown of thorns

the sting

of labels

Even though I am not interested in converting anyone, I do hope that, at some point, each person will seek out a source higher than themselves for comfort, love, and strength - whether it is the universe, nature or maybe God. 

shadow of death

can you feel

my hand in yours?

But, how do I convey this to someone who has been kicked out of a church for coming out? Or someone who has been beaten to the tune of the Fifth Commandment? 

I don't know. 

So, I just love. 

water to wine

the first sip

belongs to you

*Published in the 2018 issue of Under the Basho (Haibun section)

thistle

an old wound

surfaces

rough bark

the untold stories

of my body

*Published in the 2017 issue of Under the Basho (Modern Haiku section)

dandelions inch closer -

today's gossip

fresh

*Published by Under the Basho (www.underthebasho.com) on 11/24/16

shadows cast

upon a broken sidewalk

his hand in mine

*Published by Under the Basho (www.underthebasho.com) on 11/24/16

exhale...

grass yielding

to afternoon wind

*Published by Under the Basho (www.underthebasho.com) on 11/24/16

nearby storm -

my words and yours

soak the air

*Published by Under the Basho (www.underthebasho.com) on 11/24/16

a game of hide-and-seek

the memories

I've lost

*Published by Under the Basho (www.underthebasho.com) on 11/24/16