Haiku’d, something less than 5-7-5.
.
Let’s all agree.
If you live in a shell
You can’t see what you spot
.
Oh — ladybug, ladybug
Asleep on a leaf
When do you eat?
.
The dew is still wet
The aphids will wait
Breakfast is 24-7
.
An orange shell
And black spots
That’s some defense
August 2025
On the Flatirons Trail near Boulder, Colorado where one has time to wonder.
“There are no solutions; there are only trade-offs.”
— Thomas Sowell, economic, social and political theorist
Variations on Thomas Sowell’s quote as it relates to political and economic policy making and their unpleasant unintended consequences. The solution depends upon the problem and the problems are many.
No true solutions —
Each choice gives and takes back,
Balance in all things
.
No one solution —
The Way flows like a river
Unseen ever changing
.
A true solution
Depends upon the problem
And our problems are too many
Take energy policy for example, oil and gas, coal, wind and solar, uranium, each presents its own challenges.
Like a new car with lane assist:
In all things, balance —
Straight, curving, ever changing
Sticking to the way.
Composed on the trail to the Flatirons outside Boulder, Colorado and far from the madding crowds, where one has time to think and ponder how one keeps on the path.
On Gardening
Haiku’d. A weed is often a flower out of place. A blossom is only pretty until it fades. Nature makes its own choices, and so do I.
I love to garden
But I hate to make
— Sophie’s choice
Bashō no yōna, Late Summer 2025
Haiku’d, messing with Matsuo Basho’s form (5-7-5), making up the rules. How Dao…
Some random thoughts on gardening.
If it’s true that April is the cruelest month (The Wasteland, T.S. Eliot, 1922), then August is the hottest month when gardeners struggle to water. And throughout the season the gardener knows some seeds grow, some plants thrive, some need a little help.
So do I.
A poet getting old becomes like an old dog. Not lazy just waiting for the right time.
.
Intense activity
Sandwiched in between periods of
Deep slumber
Am I watching you
Watching me – you wondering
What the fuck!
.
Am I watching you
watching me, wondering both —
what everything means?
Haiku’d, messing with Matsuo Basho.
Dreams of Zhuangzi. A Grass Skipper to kids, if you wish to be formal, Mr. Atalopedes, simply, a butterfly resting this morning on a Brown-eyed Susan.
By the summer of 1694, Basho was not feeling well and he knew the end was near. As if to sum up his life, he wrote this haiku.
making my way in life,
in a small rice patch,
back and forth
.
世を旅に代かく小田の行戻り
yo o tabi ni shiro kaku oda no yuki modori
— Matsuo Basho, late summer, 1694
As you like it:
traveling this world,
a lifetime working a rice patch,
back and forth
— Bashō no yōna, Thoughts on Basho while walking, Summer 2025
| 世を旅に | Yo o tabi ni | making my way in life, |
| 代かく小田の | shiro kaku oda no | in a small rice patch |
| 行戻り | yuki modori | back and forth |
Back and forth,
Sowing and reaping,
Seeking answers never found.
— Bashō no yōna, Thoughts on the Dao, 2025
matsuo-basho-haiku 