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Poems By Poet Tommy Stroller  11/28/2014 6:06:02 AM
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  Best Poems From
  TOMMY STROLLER (30.6.48)

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Winter Haiku

Haiku 1

Summer is so short

A white skirt left on the beach

Winter is so long

Haiku 2

The ice flowers on

the window pane. A flute plays

and the rising moon

Haiku 3

The seagull on its

perch pole above the water

Naked we slowly enter

Haiku 4

The small whales leap and

dive in the sound. The sauna

sweat on our bodies

Haiku 5

Long the shore the ice

cracks in the ferry`s wake. The

moon slides on darkness

Haiku 6

New Year - so many

rockets scream next day - old year΄s

rubbish fills the streets
Tommy Stroller



A Very Personal History

Bodies have histories

Eyes lie to one another

Even in mirrors

But history remains dug

Deep into every cell

Bodies strain to forget themselves

To join in dances too young for them

But the music of the song

Is in the piano notes of the genes

And we endlessly respond

Endlessly play the game,

And dance the dance,

Biology and memory conspiring

To deny themselves

Through each other
Tommy Stroller



Usambara Time

The cocks crow at 3pm,
they don't crow for anything:
A guest has come
but the host has gone out with his cows.
The guest sits outside waiting
never knowing if the host will come,
and observing the women doubled-up
like caterpillars, hoeing in their fields.
The ragged scissors of banana fronds
rustle and stir in the mountain wind.
Far below sit the plains,
and close above the clouds -
like a quarter-opened book whose binding
is uncertain, but whose pages can mirror
the scattered glyphs of clouds,
dark duplicates that run across
the alien mountain bush.

A child's cry is carried on the wind, the bati* groans
upon the fractured mud of walls,
and everywhere the same dank stink of piss,
human and animal, drenching both homes and earth.
And the blood red soil nurtures less and less
these people and their religion:
untended ancestral shrines open to the rain, a home
only for rats, not spiritual sacrifice.
No birds sing here, nor even any woman's song.
It's half past three and I'm still waiting
For the host to come.
Tommy Stroller




A gold diamond reflection
Has been robbed of its brilliance,
For today, early and scuffling,
The lights have changed. The almost
Orange plays no more its gaudy theme.
The waters ripple under much cruel
And crude description.
The cold saliva brushes past the days
And catches my tongue between
Two definitions. But sharper
Are my thoughts, not hurried
In uncomfortable salt of sweat,
But freezing harder onto
This prime-evil life.
Tommy Stroller

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Poems By Poet Tommy Stroller