tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59863482012-01-23T15:55:52.662-05:00haiku villagefrog jumps inKurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comBlogger281100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-79511730234686987282012-01-23T15:55:00.002-05:002012-01-23T15:55:52.668-05:00water dragon calls
I pick up the phone
three coinsKurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-83177589608795806532011-05-20T09:55:00.002-04:002011-05-20T09:55:43.648-04:00.
poem well dry
I stand and stare down
no reflectionKurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-27539277569064986352011-05-19T19:33:00.000-04:002011-05-19T19:33:45.283-04:00hole in shoe says,
"Foot is emancipated!"
sock says, "Please help me."
past participle
careens into future, tense
“Will they need me there?”
black surfers floating
gnats on liquid mirror
waiting for ripplesKurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-36867073625976356682010-10-05T14:31:00.001-04:002010-10-05T14:33:14.490-04:00real conversation
penetrates cafe quiet
righteous laptops scowl
sweeper passes
I jump to repark
pavlov's car
pounding pierogis
Brother Void pontificates
"Chopin was Polish"
.Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-75395786600645574052010-09-29T15:02:00.002-04:002010-09-29T15:02:32.809-04:00crickets in midday
under the kiss of autumn
searching for last love
.Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-26575076842725376222010-09-22T23:05:00.002-04:002010-09-22T23:05:41.253-04:00last breaths of summer
moon and jupiter take them
I swoon into autumn
.Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-2758648185367676502010-09-09T12:18:00.000-04:002010-09-09T12:18:14.807-04:00coolness of autumn
arrives under dark cover
night delivery
.Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-39153314841969113002010-09-06T12:04:00.002-04:002010-09-06T12:06:13.578-04:00sage wind blow me away
I'm curious what remains
behind the chatter
.Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-51624280843156316892010-09-04T12:46:00.001-04:002010-09-04T12:49:18.473-04:00warm city embracewaits outside a/c commercetoo snug for breathing.Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-88685123358104827062010-09-03T14:08:00.002-04:002010-09-04T12:56:02.426-04:00closet find
spicy love letter
never mailed
.Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-59682388852734886722008-09-17T17:04:00.002-04:002008-09-17T17:08:05.365-04:00slanty sun on deskmy pencils are out of linebut words fall ina chill in the airwhere is my saxophone at?band practice memoriesfull moon lights the skysatiny glowing all overwhile the clouds play tagKurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-46561061530558108962008-08-10T22:14:00.004-04:002008-08-10T22:15:37.872-04:00catskill mountain rainrinsing, and rinsing againsoon I will be clearKurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-10917819204896874162008-04-03T11:29:00.000-04:002008-04-03T11:55:31.647-04:00There is a corner table at the Café Pick Me Up, made from a sewing machine cabinet. And there’s a little hinged door on the front of that cabinet, for storing bobbins and needles, I suppose. When I sit there, I put a haiku in that compartment, written at that moment on a small piece of paper. I usually never see it again. Sometimes it’s weeks before I’m at that table again. There is sand in Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-81515100721393602202007-11-24T12:24:00.000-05:002007-11-24T12:25:32.938-05:00pristine and cleangarbage truck grinding carriesover gated wallsmarigolds in the desertso very thirsty in bedpipe the water infiltered, but still foultelevision oversprayfrom the room next doorKurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-1168113741990069542007-01-06T15:01:00.000-05:002007-01-06T15:02:22.003-05:00white flakes meanderbarely heavier than airold pine creaks beneathdrab summer birdieflaunts his dusty blue jacketbright now in a cold worldblack specks on the snowgather and wait for the callthey will hop as oneKurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-1165853157414673942006-12-11T11:04:00.000-05:002006-12-11T15:14:20.093-05:00winter storm comes intall buildings disappearmy city gets softersnow arrives on scheduletravelers fall behind theirsthey crash in the airportblanket on the townpajamas on my girlfriendall is warm tonightKurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-1101703692912919562004-11-28T23:46:00.000-05:002004-11-28T23:49:15.953-05:00
the woods have disrobed
trees prefer their nudity
in the off-season
leaf prints in the rain
part of the concrete sidewalk
now running away
thirsty houseplants watch
through the balcony window
pots filling with rain
Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-1101093425354375612004-11-21T22:16:00.000-05:002004-11-21T22:34:23.946-05:00
autumn falls on the
abandoned swimming pool
scum turns to green ice
no bugs until spring
frogs in the pond burrow deep
into welcoming muck
no less than the leaves
stones in the graveyard also decay
just more slowly
Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-1100534775172031162004-11-15T11:05:00.000-05:002004-11-21T22:27:33.920-05:00
she calls at eleven
it’s past my bedtime
but I’m not home
weekend together
free from the city madness
stuck inside our own
her paranoia
is utterly ungrounded
unless she reads minds
Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-1099082722167515692004-10-29T16:44:00.000-04:002004-11-21T22:26:31.143-05:00
"It's a device," he said,
in the street lamp light, poking it.
"That's what it is."
possibly perfect
but too heavy to carry
I bypass the thing
certain street treasures
employ dark spells to evade
the recycling truck
Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-1098817140828777982004-10-26T14:57:00.000-04:002004-11-21T22:31:27.530-05:00
autumn park people
draw together today in
the bright orange corner
office building shadow
reaches my sunny parkbench
lunch break is over
the mental challenge:
two more months of shortening days;
now hold sanity
Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-1098371573369989982004-10-21T11:12:00.000-04:002004-11-21T22:31:57.856-05:00
bin full of papers
I rummage through like a rat
back issues of AdWeek!
searching for wisdom
I discover truth instead
newsstand reality
celebrity’s weight
they measure in tons
at the recycler
Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-1098286772963220792004-10-20T11:39:00.000-04:002004-11-21T22:32:26.240-05:00
journey to work
not so much walking
as swimming
puddles in the day
live always against the odds
the sun is waiting
New York strangers stand
at the crossing as one
waiting for a sign
Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-1097511117304321532004-10-11T13:11:00.000-04:002004-11-21T22:32:57.916-05:00
little squashed bug
your mad dash for safety
is what caught my eye
superman died today
yet dubya still struts
comic heroes live forever
the clock is shrinking
as my memory grows fat
time for a nap
Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-1097168036234148882004-10-07T13:45:00.000-04:002004-10-07T15:04:52.126-04:00in my cubicle
"please call it a workstation"
overwhelmed by beige
muses squeezed between
modules, wires and monitors
claw at my ankles
there is a doorway
glowing digital unlocked
tho tethered, I dive
Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-1067030821958583492003-10-24T17:27:00.000-04:002003-10-24T17:27:00.903-04:00autumn churns the sky
over Bryant Park
black bag sails for Rome
fan interference
at Wrigley Field
a scapegoat is born
leaves on the ground
now cast their own shadows
as trees lose theirs
October air
clears the cobwebs even
out of my brain
Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-1067026714451694202003-10-23T16:12:00.000-04:002003-10-24T16:26:53.780-04:00ten years of childhood
no, make that eight
lived over again for eighty
grass in the park
brand new sod
reborn in midtown
my bicycle lock
city fashion
accessory to crime
how many horns
honk broadway thru its day?
I only hear the first thousand
baglady bundles on her
two wheeled cart
my pockets are empty for her
dead leaf lands
on my notebook
as i wait to turn the page
cold hands write slowKurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5986348.post-1067028586927897452003-10-14T16:41:00.000-04:002003-10-24T16:49:46.136-04:00October street
more leaves than trash
this month
frantic dash
in the sweeper's wake
park with the flow
peeler man hawks
on 42nd and 6th
how much for the scraps?
two lovers on phones
enjoy the park
in three different worlds
at Google today
the center of the universe
maximizers concatenate
china doll in the window
wants so badly
to lift her skirt
baby in Times Square
lies in his limo
while Kurt Opprechthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04359864304024596180noreply@blogger.com