Copyright © 2012
by Derrick Robinson
Ten Haiku 1970 – 1992
Restless heart, would youforsake an oasis
to pursue a mirage? 1970 Waking in the night, reaching for the fleeting image of a daydream. 1975 Taking pride where pride is due, making peace with my memories of you. 1982 Your face, your voice, your laughter sound a distant, lingering chord in me. A remembrance of you, of someone like you, or simply déjà vu? 1983 Amid the ruins of my garden, I came upon one lone daisy. 1990 Under the guise of helping you, I fed my own needs and obsession. 1991 God bless the hands that wiped away the smut from the fresco of my mind. 1991 A foundling, a deep pit, a loose cannon, etched forever on my heart. 1991 Reflected in your mirror, I saw myself in a different light. 1992 One day, this long-stemmed hothouse rose will bloom in a garden in the sun. 1992 __________________________________________________________________________________________
Ten Haiku – 1993
If I am dreaming let me awake; if I’m awake, then let me sleep. The greatest wisdom is knowing when to seek the counsel of others. One day he’ll come for me, with his gentle, gloved hands and his body bag. A car passes slowly and brake lights flash – a loaf of bread, a week’s rent. Fear not, beloved son; death is but a dreamless sleep through an endless night. Holding Wescott for the first time, I held first myself, then my father. My son David – thenewest float in the pageant of generations. All summer long, a spider tended its web on my son’s bicycle. The beating of my heart, the sound of sweat dripping onto my pillow. When I said goodbye, she said she loved me and offered to help me pack. __________________________________________________________________________________________
Ten Haiku 1994 – 1995
You are a song my heart still hears, a dream from which I never awake. 1994 Yes, it is sad that he died, but isn’t it wonderful that he lived. 1994 To stand with Morphy and fight for honor on the checkered battlefield. 1994 When it comes to Ellen, the most I can hope for is to be hopeful. 1995 Bury me with my glove and a ball and a Louisville Slugger bat. 1995 The first rains of August remind us that summer won’t last forever. 1995 Captives on the same web, we sought sanctuary in each other’s eyes. 1995 Not again… Maybe if I don’t move… Oh well, it’ll be over soon. 1995 October – when nature treats us to an orgasm of red and gold. 1995 Christmas Eve – eight years old – shining my flashlight on the neighbor’s chimney. 1995 __________________________________________________________________________________________Ten Haiku from Israel
– 2004 –
At our journey’s end, with open arms Tel Aviv rushes to greet us. Pale grey clouds settle on dim hillsides, and one lone rooster hails the dawn. Slow to awake, Israel stretches, and kicks off the cover of night. The donkey cries, “O please, won’t somebody come pay attention to me?” The ghosts of Masada still roam those ancient streets whispering, “To arms!” I couldn’t sink in the Dead Sea, or float in the Sea of Galilee. At night across Galilee, the jewelry box of Tiberias. Land of hill and stone, palm and cypress; cross, crescent, and star of David. Goodbye, Israel! Next to the land of my birth, I love you the best. Your gates and walls, your Temple Mount, still call to me, O Jerusalem! ________________________________________________________________________________________________Twenty Haiku 2002 – 2005
The yucca flowers bob and sway, and after the thunderstorm: laughter. 2002 Her face uplifted and arms outstretched, a young girl dances in the rain. 2004 The November leaves swirled around the newspapers at my father’s door. 2004 One by one, night after night, they visit me – the women of my youth. 2004 The bounty from my mother’s tomato plants lay rotting on the ground. 2004 Let’s be honest with each other; anything else is a waste of time. 2005 I understand your leaving, though some days I still wake up with longing. 2005 I work in a world of faceless men, pointless chat, and counterfeit smiles. 2005 Be careful… You have no idea how much I hate and adore you. 2005 I learned too late that I could never win your heart by giving you mine. 2005 No longer my sons, now my cat sits on the vanity while I shave. 2005 For my beloved father, a simple epitaph: He used his time well. 2005 After drinking from this well all these years, am I now satiated? 2005 At my age, falling in love is just one option; I think I’ll go home. 2005 The young grow up, the grown-ups grow old, and the old grow vegetables. 2005 After Hawaii, even heaven might turn out a disappointment. 2005 Down I followed, an awkward tourist in the land of the sea turtles. 2005 Land of hibiscus, monkeypod and mango, poi and goddess Pele. 2005 I am so much like my Dad; was he like me in ways I never knew? 2005 My mother nursed me, read books to me, and taught me to say, I love you. “God bless Mummy. I know that’s right. Wasn’t it fun in the bath tonight?” 2005 ________________________________________________________________________________________________The Time Machine of My Memory
It’s time for the marching band to yield, and let the players take the field. 2005 If you doubt that life is precious, talk to someone whose days are numbered. 2005 On Seventh Avenue, you have to take the bad with the not so bad. 2005 Wescott and Heather, separate yet together, like the dancing trees. 2005 I went to sleep thinking about you, and woke up dreaming of April. 2006 A fleeting thought while holding my new granddaughter: My work here is done. 2006 The curve of your breast, the touch of your hand, and the scent of Jean Naté. 2006 Do not weep for me, any more than for the leaves that fall in summer. 2006 In your classroom of the night, what would you teach us, patient Orion? 2006 She smiled and whispered, “Do you think that strawberries taste sweeter to me?” 2006 What was I seeking in your embrace – to forget or to remember? 2006 Transported across the years in the time machine of my memory. 2006 I was an actor in the last scene of a play I had never read. 2006 If had known then what I know now, I would know where you are tonight. 2006 I saw her today at Starbucks, without her wig and make-up and boots. 2006 You loved me more when I needed you less, less when I needed you more. 2006 Front paws on my chest, Jenny arches against my hand, purring, purring. 2006 Suddenly the spell was broken: “Hey tiger,” she said, “they’re just my boobs.” 2006 “Don’t cry,” I told her; “this isn’t really goodbye. We can still be friends.” “My love,” she paused, “until we say goodbye, I can never love again.” 2006 I dreamt of a race, and of you waiting for me at the finish line. 2007 My latest haiku – is it personal and true or merely clever? 2007 “Talk dirty to me! If I wanted to make love, I’d screw my husband.” 2007 Like water from a fountain, love bubbles out of you and over me. 2007 A late summer’s day: when I first said, “I love you,” you replied, “I know.” An autumn night: we zipped our sleeping bags together for the first time. 2007 If I could live forever, I’d want to spend forever loving you. 2007 If my arms never hold you again, well then, what good are they to me? 2007 How many men? Her body doesn’t remember, and she doesn’t care. 2007 It isn’t passion; I just don’t want to grow old alone in this house. 2007 Dividing my time between Fantasy Island and Simpson’s Divan. 2007 “You’ve really got me,” you whispered, when we could breathe normally again. 2008 Was I helping him into the boat, or shaking his hand as he drowned? 2008 “Oh, Mother! I didn’t go to Japan just to sample the sushi.” 2008 One thing I like about button-fly jeans: you can’t forget to zip up. 2008 Closet door open just a crack: how long since I slept with a light on? 2008 Peering in at me, what does the squirrel conclude: Peanuts coming soon! 2008 Alone with my wife in a darkened theater, I feel a tear fall. 2008 Atop the Ferris wheel, Johnny wanted to kiss me, and I let him. 2008 How many different faces has the demon: there is only one. 2008 What do they say about us – the lies we tell and the secrets we keep? 2008 So hungry was I for the sweet taste of honey, I bought a bee farm. 2008 ________________________________________________________________________________________________Come With Me
Rachmaninoff is a state fair, and Scriabin –a Fourth of July. 2009 You think you’re so damn smart, but one a these days you’re gonna get busted. 2009 Give them back to me – every unkind word and deed, all my squandered hours. 2009 The nerve of some people! “You must have been something,” she said, “in your day.” 2009 You winds that blow past the window of my beloved, in peace let him sleep. 2009 Watching myself closely, to see where I’m going and what I’ll do next. 2009 Like all living things, if you feed it, it will grow; starve it, and it dies. 2011 It was a long time from It’s all right to It’s over. At least, for me. 2013 Life is a lesson in humility, and I haven’t learned it yet. 2013 It ain’t over ’til it’s over, and even then it isn’t over. 2016
My Heart Still Hears 