Attempt at haiku for 28 Dec
The rosy dawn. A skein
Of geese reflected in
the winter water.
The river flows
At its own sweet will
Dear God! Would that I too were there.
(I've never tried a haiku before. This one inspired by Clary and with acknowledgements to ALT, I think)
Try as I mite
I Couldn't stop it
as I turned
the bed bug bit
McT, I heard a radio 4 programme about a Haiku Society somewhere like Sheffield, and they have the 'rules' so you can refine your art. The link is
http://www.haikusoc.ndo.co.uk/first.html but I haven't explored it yet.
The essence of haiku is:
...
The haiku should exhibit awareness of nature and emotion suggesting some kind of union or bond between humanity and the rest of nature. The haiku should be true to life and depict things without an overlay of poetic ornament. The language and syntax should be everyday.'
Roses in armor
Rode to war one day
Denuded arbor
No roses to play
Bees and butterflies
Have all stayed away
Sad in their ardor
Grieve the rose that dies
Red roses on the trellis
speak of a day
when skies were not cloudy
and the sun came to play
a fragrance of springtime
forgotten in time
as the snow blankets the thorns
of this sweet smelling vine
My puppy tears up rose vines to have a good chew.
She picks at the flowers too.
Beneath the acacia she has a muddy hole;
No wonder Santa filled her stocking with coal.
Wandering through this world
I always thought I was alone.
My brain, endless words
And then I was shown...
A writers thoughts
are as normal as the morning sky
and here I find comfort
in knowing it is not just I
Morning Pages
Welcome. I like your little poem. Don't be a stranger, please.
In my backyard
a place with full sun
lies the grave of a cat
who was my number one
Beneath the green grasses
purple daises and such
I've come to realize
I miss him so much
Eighteen years he stayed with me
my buddy, this cat
he gave me full devotion
and I gave it back
His morals he kept
Inside a glass jar
In the glass he wept
Like a movie star
But he wore his rage
As a glove of steel
And a war he waged
With the utmost zeal
He's Millenium Sam
Don't fall for his smile
Millenium Sam
Don't swoon for his guile
He'll love you the less
Once you bear his cross
Don't ever confess
You notice the loss
Your freedom's his foe
Your wealth is all his
His jar's just for show
Snake venom's his kiss
He's Millenium Sam
Don't fall for his smile
Millenium Sam
Don't swoon for his guile
All along the watchtower
Michael Jackson ran the line
While the muses came and went
His waning fans opine
Outside in the distance
A wildcat did growl
His acusers were approaching
The wind began to howl
Haiku for a dark winter's day. See above for Haiku rules.
The branches cross the sullen sky
And the last leaf flutters to the ground.
The man they call Michael
he sings in a band
from a place far away called
never never land
He likes all the children
who come to his ranch
but it gets him in trouble
by taking the chance
Some say he is guilty
he says, "no, I'm not"
He has lots of money
for affections to be bought
The clock on my mantle
Has not chimed for a year.
It startled me quietly,
A portent, I fear.
From whence came that song
That it sang in the night?
I dare not approach it....
Out of ear--out of sight.
They say the cows are crazy
that graze on grass and wheat
there brains are filled with holes
which make them tainted meat
Their feed contains ingredients
not fit for cow or man
you can't feed cows meat you know
they are vegetarians
I caught an eagle
I put it in a locket
I went walking
Holding it in my breast pocket
I gave it my love
The eagle in a locket
But I felt hate
Eat a hole into my pocket
I grabbed it up
My eagle in a locket
It stung like a hornet
I quickly dropped it
But I love you
I told the Eagle in a locket
But I hate you
Barked the eagle in the locket
And my wound festered
Until I opened the locket
The eagle cursed me
And zipped off like a rocket
I watch the children playing,
See them dancing in the yard.
I hear the words they're saying,
Like a fancy Christmas card.
The moments that betray them
Are the moments caught off guard;
Yet the dragons cannot slay them,
Not these children of the ward.
I hear their mothers call them.
As they empty out the yard,
They are still echoing,
Like bells tolling in my heart.
I gaze upon the portrait
Of my brother who's been gone:
Time itself cannot prorate
The memory and the song.
- If I could see you I would kiss you;
I would hug you til you groan.
Now that Mom went with you,
I'll have to go on alone -
I've been across some borders,
To describe my private hell;
In deep and shallow waters,
Like a bucket in a well.
Each story has an anchor;
Yes I dragged mine through the bay;
I was lucky just to find her,
Lucky she could go my way.
The sun is like a prizm:
See it straining through the glass.
My mind's not like a prison;
I'm no prisoner to the past.
There's a beauty in the foment,
And a rage to top the crest;
Got to have myself a moment,
But I'm ready for the rest.
Your poem is beautiful, Edgar; it's amazing how fast childhood goes, but how in a way it stays too.
I wrote this down, spontaneously, on the U-Bahn this morning.
There like a heathen to the night,
Upon thy ragged face of moss,
Came up across the early light
No shoulder left to bear thy loss.
I like that, drom. I read it earlier today, but wanted to read it again before commenting, to see if I still like it. I do.
