Haiku poetry, although relatively unknown in America, is a very significant part of the culture and heritage of Japan...

You tell me of bodies shoveled ten deep in this green valley; father's fresh wounds swabbed with thick brine till he died; a hungry child shot for stealing their garbage...

I blame it on the vague and fleeting dusk. Shrugging, We watch the limp tissue of day compress, Crushed like a soiled sheet on the feeble sky...

Sometime has an ache... the dirty gray scream of bars against a sky...

With his golden flute pressed between his lips His fingers ready to start dancing on the holes Walked Randa Bayama the snake charmer Under the tall trees in search of the queen cobra...