Haikooley High Harmony: Life, The Duality of Love Versus Lust & The Sunshine After The Rain

“It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday…”


We Who Are Like God

I remember his
Hands, a palm reader’s garden
With roots tracing back

To the beginning
Of the heavens and Earth, grown
Deep as Atlantis

As though he’d been here
Before, planting seeds of our
Divine DNA.

Scars on the Heart

To wield its weapons
Has been the way of the world
Which now wears its wounds

As it walks through corridors
Of a hemophiliac

History, with scars
Of our malice still marring
The heart of Mother Earth.

Can Words Be Weapons?

Iconoclasts of
Baffled creeds feed on arcane
Seeds of mystery

Like culture vultures
In a dance cadaverous
Of life beyond death

Who cursed for cowards
Are ‘fraid to be convicted
Of their convictions.

Never let your thoughts
Be bought…knowledge is power
In the war of words.

Evidence of Things Not Seen

Proof of things unseen–
Faith ain’t no fairytale, but
More the avenue

To where life sheds→love
sheds→light on the fact that what’s
Meant to be will be.

Love vs. Lust:

For Suite Luv

By faith not by sight
I walk in grace, baptized by
The fire in her eyes.


With a cunning tongue
As I kneel at her altar
She is communion.

The Art of Love (& its carnal confections)

Let’s neck & nibble
In the temple of our flesh
& minds intertwined
With words savored by our tongues
For love is the last supper.

Dorothy Dandridge Dreams

Redbone to the bone
With dark chocolate eyes, creamy
Butter pecan thighs,

Lips of caramel
& brown skin that glows as though
Dipped in honey, she

Is my sundae
Of sunday dreams, my own black
& tan fantasy.

Domino Effect

More than mood for thought
Condemned to a road of faults
To arrive at truth
Love is like a domino
Always falling fore we know.

Mystique of a Panther

Amidst the lure of
Her feral eyes, she buries
Me in mystery.

Lion Queen

Lioness, with your
Mane of auburn flames, Sol of
My soul burns for you
Crystallized in piscean
Dreams of sunship horizons.

Full Moon

Fine as frog hair down
To her marrow, she’s lush as
A full moon in bloom.

Like Kerouac Said

I love pink tacos
With strawberries & whipped cream.
Some call me dirty
Old man. I say, “fuck is a
Dirty word, but comes out clean.”

The Sunshine After The Rain:

Light of the World

Visions of sunsets
Forge infernos upon skies

Dancing heliocentric
Circles around the capstone

Of the cosmos, till
The light of the world is cast
In shadows of souls.

New Moon Blues

The sky is crying
Down upon the midnight lamp
Of my beating heart
Flooding the gates with new moons
Riding carpets of bright rain.

The Word of Bird

for Charlie Parker

as he flew, Bird blew
Trying to play clean, looking
For the pretty notes.

In the voice of the
Coolest breeze, the Apostle
Of Hipness hovers

Like a satellite
In orbit of mother earth
& the universe.

Changing of the Guard

For Amiri Baraka [who passed January 9, 2014]

The ripples of time
& space transbluesent like jazz
Interplay like night

& day, where novas
Explode amidst shadows in
Brilliant bursts of life

That open the doors
To the oneness of two eyes
Observing the light

Refracted by streams
Of consciousness curated
In the margins of

Our minds, left behind
As footnotes to changing times
For us to study.

Blood of a Metaphor

As words flow through me
I don’t know where I might be
Without poetry.

At The Heart Of Art

What is art but that
Which hands of men & women
Mold from the thunder
Of hearts so as to wake souls
Following in their shadows.

Curators of the Lost Art

for Amiri Baraka & Albert Einstein

We are curators
Of the lost art of thought, forced
Into existence
By revelations of mind
& the imagination.

©2014 MDSHall