Archive for Haiku

Solo Piano Jazz (for Jaki Byard)

two hands make a band

intricate structures mixing,

the genius brings forth

counterpoint, humor

from the the tonal dynamo,

deep inside his mind

Heatwave

June, hot morning sun

old candle wax melting

in forgotton drawers

some people complain

“its just so unbearable”

Yet March was too cold

Rain

Raw cold and anxious

Grey days avoiding raindrops

My veneer may melt

Soft gentle spring rain

My smiling mouth is open

Perls land on my tongue

socci

A Forgotton Poem – To Those Who Would Judge

I wrote this back in the Spring of this year. It is an expression of some deeply personal conflicts, and a plea to those prone to rush to judgment.
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When does it all stop -
Embracing this foul hatred -
From so far away?

Arrogance or pride?
What makes it so plain for you -
That which puzzles me?

Would you stone them all -
Adulterers, perverts, queers?
Can YOU cast the first?

Suffering the same
You and I are no different
We can both feel pain

We both have a heart
With truth it only opens
With hate it slams shut

Water, carbon, more -
We are made from the same dust,
Brother and sister

On the Verge of Something

potential to spare
no catalyst to be found
where am i going

safe on the sidelines
much too afraid to jump in
comfort is a myth

lottery ticket
waiting for the phone to ring
salvation is late

your ride isn’t mine
why do i rent your journey
i’ve one of my own

who the hell are you
that i should try to fit in
true to your standard

I am thinking big
I’ve gathered some grand ideas
Bits of light shine through

Then back to the now
Shiftless, angry, and strung out
Blaming all but me

I’m just a coward
with a dream and a few skills
scared shitless to try

Losing a Friend

When can you say this —
that someone is a true friend?
—a day, or a year?

It doesn’t matter
One day or a whole lifetime
When the vibe is right

I hadn’t seen you -
seemed forever and a day.
Then I heard you were gone.

Just another day
in paradise you told me
A place you could be

Free from the sheriff
And those who might seek to harm
Boy against nature

From the day we met
No judgments made between us
You came as you were

Here in this moment
mistakes past, future unknown
See me as I am

You asked nothing that
I accept you as you are
we are both good souls

Dear friends like you
Who just see me as I am
Are precious and rare

– For my friend Ron “Ronda Riviera” Wright

Gaining Wisdom

As in a city,
lost, walking round in circles -
pacing the same streets.

My true place to be
lay on the next block over.
But I never knew.

I chose to wander
too proud to ask directions
most could have given.

Living in the now
is useless, if not mindful
of the guide inside. (who knows when to ask)

In my early years,
my course was never steady -
to and fro like wind.

Sudden adulthood -
Youth wasted, indecision -
The game now for keeps.

Mistakes everywhere,
bankruptcy ensued, all kinds.
I slashed and I burned.

Illness, poor choices.
The fruit? A cataclysm.
Near death, I lay grim.

Like some mythic man,
I refused to die prostrate.
My mission was clear.

It seems that wisdom
is a sliver of pale light -
Waxing and waning

Be still, be mindful.
The light becomes a beacon -
forget; it grows dim

Age, pain, survival,
can teach important lessons -
If one can let go.

Let go of yourself.
Live for the rest of the world
Find the empathy.

 Park Avenue South, Charles Socci 2003

On Speaking, Listening, and Observing

wisdom’s born of pain
some people find it’s comfort
not the self engaged

a fool will speak out
when no question has been posed
integrity lost

sage, humble and wise
will wait until the last word
perhaps not speaking

Who shall I become?
old dog watching things pass by
knowing more than me.

Bitter Pills To Swallow

Tiny bitter pills
Another one to swallow
Another day gone

Mama didnt say
But there are bones in this fish
Chew it carefully

The air is foul here
Yet one must breath to survive
Plug your nose and laugh

Once my wine was pure
Now its filled with sediment
I filter the grit

No more golden haze
My light lacks natural color
Blue skies a memory

And so I move on
I filter, endure and laugh
What else can i do?

The Bumper Sticker Said, “If you aren’t pissed off; you aren’t paying attention.”

like a radio
that tunes the strongest station
the loudest one wins

ideas that aren’t your’s
want for a path to follow
too frightened to search

accepting it all
believing without question
never asking why

reject all of it
do not accept what they say
they hide all that’s true

searching for the truth
its not the easiest way
but comfort will come

all is in plain view
one must simply look at it
squarely without fear