Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
250 · Feb 2017
Life, Throughout the Storm
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
Wind
Swells in the sea and
Sky,
Darkening;
My little boat
fares on,
Waiting
For the
World to
Calm.
249 · Mar 2017
haiku no. 81
Christian Bixler Mar 2017
for nine days
cupboard dust has smoothed it
affection
that which is careworn, old, mended, lacking in some way from the ideal of perfection...these may by some be accounted as perfect in another way, for the express reason of their flaws.
248 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 21
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
For beauties' sake
I trace this wooded road--
trailing pennants.
Trailing pennants: plastic bags caught in the trees beside the road; yet also maybe the Spanish moss that hangs from so many of the trees here.
247 · Feb 2017
Love
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
Love; thorn
in the brier
strand;
hypodermic
in its kisses'
sting-
the breath
of life in
the brittle
womb;
soft succor,
the shoots of
Spring: Peace
in the needles
bite.
In order for one to love fully, one must be willing to sacrifice fully; in order to gain everything, one must first lose everything. When one can look upon the world, its joys and sorrows alike, and see in all Love, and recognize it in love, then will the ordeal be complete, the sacrifice concluded; and peace and love and joy will all be yours, and wisdom
shall reign in your heart.
246 · Sep 2017
haiku no. 105
Christian Bixler Sep 2017
is there a way
finding in an old photo
recognition
Viewing a small anxiety since passed by.
246 · Feb 2017
haiku no. 45
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
frustration
as tea's steam, I must learn
to let it go
246 · Mar 2017
haiku no. 68
Christian Bixler Mar 2017
after waiting
this poised air, released--
sound--tuning
245 · Aug 2020
Senryu no. 1
244 · Jan 2020
Prince Charles (A Tribute)
Christian Bixler Jan 2020
Listen, now my friends, for I
shall let, the thought that like
an illness threads, laced through
all the causeways of my veins,
that in the moment, threatening
decay, boils, and begs relief;
that all men, and women living,
made in the plan of this wide
and tangled tapestry, seek and
humor themselves to be, each
woven separate, unique in form
and station, and about them hung
the universe, dependent for its
character on their sight, which
itself by their hearts temperament is due.
Life, the lives of others, serve the
merest backdrop, the stage that
is the foundation of our act, and
our struggles, illumined by
measure of their intimacy, seem
in their importance to swallow the
world, and cast all that does not
pertain in a veil of contempt, disinterest.
Yet the world, as in untrammeled
thought we realize, does not sway
according to ourselves, move
whether sweet or bitter, along the
course of our presumption. But in its
step it moves to the tune of its creation;
wholly nothing, never fair nor foul alone;
a pool, in which like ripples man's every
thought and action begins, grows, dies,
and is reborn. Seen now, free of leaning
and imprint, the brush's work broad,
shallow, a truth is opened, that wiser now
perforce we clutch to our *******; that of
the living, who suffer, there are those
who suffer more, or less than ourselves,
and to the former in the halls of memory we
can do naught but weep, so shut our eyes
and turn, pretending the point less sharp,
the dose less bitter, that our minds may fall
again to the pattern, and our eyes again look
outward. Walled so, is it a wonder that these lives,
these men and women, shaped as they are through
pain are found forgot, abandoned in the memory
of their minds, their hearts? But memory is the
root of empathy, sympathy; so remember, and in
whoso you meet light their memory also; for it
is only when record fails that man's erasure is
complete; nor will ever his life lose its meaning
while there is one alive to remember.
Inspired by the episode Tywysog Cymru, The Crown, season three.
244 · Jul 6
Moments of Wonder
Listen to the sound
of a butterfly
flying by

Feel the wind
from a bumblebee's buzzing

Clouds in the sky
The endless artwork
Three poems written by my beautiful wife.
244 · Feb 9
haiku no. 162
243 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 4
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
See the drifting leaf,
bud, in sights embrace, fair so
Loss, perspectives gain.
Though sight is good and beautiful, it is perhaps true that if one comes to let it go, even if only for a moment, he will see the world through new, and different eyes.
243 · Jul 2017
haiku no. 94
Christian Bixler Jul 2017
dragging wood
now at the end of a long day
an easy task
241 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 2
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
The cup forgotten,
left, upon the rain-wet sill
will I drink tomorrow's dew?
Working Title; but judge it as you will.
240 · Aug 2017
haiku no. 98
Christian Bixler Aug 2017
desert photograph
seeing a little better its perspective
a worn stone
239 · Mar 2017
haiku no. 79
Christian Bixler Mar 2017
for nine days
this worn cup has lain untouched
wake-up call
I have not written or given much thought to poetry for about nine days, or near enough, as far as I can reckon it. It is time to put away the dreams of the past, and of the future, and to live in truth, in the present.
239 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 5
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
Clear, shining music--
Fall branch hanging down, black, and
red leaves; droplets fall.
Expression of the beauty of nature, water falling into an Autumn pool; yet perhaps comfort,  offered in the knowledge of life's eventual return, or of beauty serving to console us, in the time of life's withdrawal.
238 · Oct 2017
haiku no. 108
Christian Bixler Oct 2017
a new tradition
passing the old house there
we slow
238 · Feb 2017
haiku no. 37
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
small flowers
clustered, at mound's base
ant's garden
238 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 11
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
Through leaflet halls, soft
the woodland path lies unclad--
Life waits, looking on.
A sketch, outlining my belief that nature should be left in large, unspoiled; Nature, souls sweet solace-through you, I find peace.
237 · Jul 2020
haiku no. 137
Christian Bixler Jul 2020
from above
backlit waves
of plastic
236 · Feb 2017
haiku no. 49
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
bright mist
cold, the moon's rim hangs
yet young their song
236 · Mar 2017
haiku no. 67
Christian Bixler Mar 2017
after waiting
this deep chord--
we turn to empty seats
Waiting outside the auditorium, we were at last allowed in when about ten minutes had past. filing past, I heard a deep, rich note from where the students were tuning their instruments. It impressed me so much that my annoyance vanished, and I sat eagerly to hear the rest of the performance.
236 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 27
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
Among the trash
wanton strewn
a golden flower.
230 · Feb 2017
haiku no. 43
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
words, on a
glowing screen
a leaf falls to rest
230 · Mar 2017
haiku no. 65
Christian Bixler Mar 2017
in the morning
the old tree droops, black--
a nut falls to earth
229 · Feb 2017
haiku no. 41
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
in the bright morn wind blows the clouds lights shine
229 · Jun 2020
haiku no. 134
Christian Bixler Jun 2020
lemons
in the bowl one
is chipped
A centerpiece.
228 · Apr 2017
haiku no. 83
Christian Bixler Apr 2017
these fish
swimming in a barren world
our eyes reflected
226 · Feb 9
haiku no. 157
her braided hair
in the lamplight
and daylight
224 · Feb 2017
haiku no. 35
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
compassion
such beauty...my heart
aches, in musics' sway
222 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 9
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
In the night, wind, rattle
I wake in the changing dark--
Pat! The sound of rain.
As is said, a fond memory, collective, of all the times I have woken in the  night to the sound of wind and rain, and fallen back to sleep, content.
222 · Jun 2020
haiku no. 135
Christian Bixler Jun 2020
grout lines
a row stayed
of fishermen
220 · Aug 2016
Thoughts, Late At Night
Christian Bixler Aug 2016
These thoughts of mine are
hard to keep, these flitting
things of light and shadow,
of dreams forgotten, and
of the ecstatic delirium of
madness that comes from
a night of sleepless turnings,
stimulants, enticing so,
the bodies of dreams, mine
and not. But who can tell,
among us all, among
us heaped and sprawled
and thronged, who can say
who truly dreamt, the
word that marks, the laugh
that cuts, that worms into
the hollowed space, that
takes the place ones heart
did make, first, before we
dreamt at all?
216 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 19
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
Grass, soft, in tired
eyes, shadows strewn; diamonds glint
in evening's light.
In the evening, I saw amid the grass shining points of light. I do not know what these may be; but how they shined in the dying light!
216 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 18
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
In that park, wooded
so, the great pines weave, standing--
drunken giants.
The sight of all the pines extending below me down the hill, criss-crossed every which way, leaning far on their rooted anchors.
214 · Jun 2020
haiku no. 132
Christian Bixler Jun 2020
tulip
in its root is
every root
A rewrite of no. 131.
214 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 7
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
On, my love..let the
waves come, and take you, on...the
tears well; fall, silent.
Inspired so from yet another film of emotion, and final heartbreak. I understand that I must not allow grief to rule me; must not allow myself to become lost in the tragedies of life, if I would ever again come to joy in the simple moments of life's pleasure...would ever perhaps come to love, to peace...still, I must grieve, at least now. Forgive my ramblings...I am heart-sore, and tired, spent. I hope you will not judge these words too harshly; they are made in emotion, but perhaps not refined, as I should normally make them, before I let them go.
212 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 26
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
Tall trees, bare
limbs straight; at their feet
how green the mead!
208 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 33
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
Cobwebs--
so they shimmer, as nets
of pearls strewn.
A little generic, perhaps. Still, it is beautiful, at least to me.
208 · Mar 2017
haiku no. 70
Christian Bixler Mar 2017
day's end
to the last open flower
a drop of rain
Composed in response to the lyrics of the main theme of the film Princess Mononoke, composed by Joe Hisaishi.
203 · Jan 11
haiku no. 152
evening after snow
the trees limbs
are limned in light
202 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 20
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
Bark of the old
pine, rough at my touch--
scented breeze.
A moment of transcendence I experienced once, alone in a state park of surpassing beauty-I could never convey in words what I experienced that day. Yet, I hope that this verse may at least in part, convey the wonder and joy of that moment.
197 · Feb 2017
haiku no. 48
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
white road
sound--the grey fox
turns to flight
196 · Jun 2020
haiku no. 136
Christian Bixler Jun 2020
ahead
two red cedars
before pines
191 · Jan 24
haiku no. 156
birdsong
and roses
this imaginary garden
189 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 32
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
How abundant!
roadside jewels, bright
in mornings dew.
186 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 23
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
Old church--
in freshen blooms, standing
a double pine.
180 · Feb 2017
Haiku no. 25
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
Standing
yet another grass-grown road--
the gate is open!
178 · Feb 2017
haiku no. 39
Christian Bixler Feb 2017
in reading
of the poet's death, Imaoka--
stone falls on stone
Next page