I'm posting the requested Haiku I've written over my life

Sorry just to paste the file, gotta' go.

"War has no honor.
That's found in doing what's right,
No matter the cost."

"War has no glory.
It is found in a man's kami,
Not in his events."
----
(Kami is roughly spirit or
soul for you gaijin heretics.)

"Mariko, my love.
Our sons are better than us!!
Is this always true?"

"Over mountain-tops?
Reason, does not take you there.
It just goes around.

============================================
"For one who's dying,**
Excruciating beauty,
Has the forest's scent."

"Death's your companion.**
Fear him? You can't learn to live.
You're afraid always."

"My lives are wave's crests,**
I swim through to Nirvana.
The troughs are my deaths."

"Glorious sunrise,**
Purifies the firmament,
Bloodstained clouds turn white."

"Death bring's no sorrow,**
Attachment to living does.
Death is part of Life!"
[** These are Haiku that were spoken when I was dying,
the wording is not subject to change.]
==============================================
Vietnam:
"A religious war!
When everyone is wrong, who's right?!?
Guard, whoever is."

"To demonize foes;
You have to wake your demons.
Does this do you good?

Hey Mao:
"The "Bayonet's Law!"
Bayonet's don't give you sons,
That law's invalid!"

"To live is to learn.
Close your mind to anything,
And it starts dying."

(I wrote this for the people who asked Luke
and myself what night looked like to us with
our night vision.)
----
"Quicksilvered sagebrush,
Painted by the waning moon,
As you walk, it flows."

"Break Death's embrace now.
But, one day there'll come a time,
You'll embrace him back."

Life is like a tree!
Why? I haven't got that far.
Give me five decades.

A 4 part haikai from when I felt put upon:
To despise hunting,
And being a top hunter.
Karmic Irony.
----------
To despise killing,
And being a top killer.
Karmic Irony.
----------
Having the senses,
And innate skills to be best?
Karmic Irony.
----------
Just one thing Karma,
What did I ever do to you?
'cause this ain't funny!




No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own,
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know,
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.
-------
John Donne.