Category Archives: haiku

The Daily Prompt is dead, long live…..

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The Daily Prompt is dead, long live…..

Suddenly at the end of May, the Daily Prompt disappeared from the blogosphere just when I was getting to know it. Frankly, I miss it. I didn’t respond on a daily basis but every now and then, a prompt would fire my imagination (I can’t get no..) and I would write a poem that I would never have written without that prompt. So here is a haiku to lament the passing of the Daily Prompt.

In Memoriam: the Daily Prompt

left bereft, promptless
stalled and stumped and paralysed
how can we go on?

But all is not lost, I have noticed a few bloggers out there are trying to fill the gap, and I would like to throw my hat into that ring. The difference is I will be offering prompts that are not actual words, but words that I have made up. Today’s word is “brattitude”. As in…..

“The dress has that swaggering catwalk brattitude we have come to expect from a Karl Aufderfelt design.”

Since I do not want to sully the memory of the Daily Prompt, I have struggled to come up with an alternative name. I thought maybe, the Daily Prod, but some of my friends in Belfast might mistake it for a sectarian bulletin. I toyed with the Daily Prick but abandoned it for obvious reasons. I finally settled on the Daily Jolt, like a shot of caffeine, a creative laxative. (This post is like a bowling ball that keeps veering towards the gutter.)
So give it a go, hit me with your best shot, post something inspired by the jolt word “brattitude”, link back to this blog and I will list a link to your post here. Or simply post a comment here.

By the way, it’s very unlikely that I will have the imagination or application to do this on a daily basis, so the Daily Jolt will probably be occasional.

 

 

Slim invents a Word / A simple desultory haiku

via Daily Prompt: Frantic 

I’m sitting in front of a pitcher of Blue Buck Ale in The Post Coital Beetle when Slim bursts through the door wearing a lime green cycling jacket, black spandex pants and a maroon cycling helmet balanced on the balding boulder that is his head. Little red and green lights wink on and off on his helmet and shoes; strips of high vis luminous tape decorate his spandex legs.

“Slim”, I say, “you look like a fucking Christmas tree.”
“Safety is job one.”
“All the world needs is another slogan”

Slim ignores this and announces that he has invented a new word.

“I know”, I say, “tumultaneous.”

“No”, he says, “a new one – chillacrity.”

Slim takes off his jacket; he’s wearing a tangerine fleece unzipped at the neck to reveal a tuft of ginger hair. His gut is putting a strain on the fabric; he looks like a soccer player who has stuffed a ball up his shirt in celebration of a goal and a pregnancy. I get a whiff of rising damp and realize that Slim is not wearing a tee-shirt – fleece on bare sweaty skin, a warm pub, this does not augur well. He is as close to animated as Slim gets.

“So, here it is, say you’re walking down a suburban street and you hear the frantic screams of a young girl. You look around, the screams appear to be coming from a house across the road. The door is open. What to do you do? Sprint across the road and into the house? No,…… you look right and left and slowly cross the road taking out your cell phone at the same time and phoning 911. You give the operator the address and note the snow shovel on the porch of the house. The screaming continues, you step over some broken glass, grab the snow shovel and slowly enter the house shovel first….you’re moving with chillacrity”.

The evening has just started and already I’m wondering if it will ever end.

Haiku written sitting in a pub in Toronto killing time

fish tacos, pale ale
menu says pico gallo
what the fuck is that?

Provoke (Haiku for Donald/ Trumputin)

via Daily Prompt: Provoke  

These poems were originally written as an attempt to provoke. That didn’t happen, and nothing changed as a result of writing them but at least I had some fun doing it. The second poem appeared in the magazine Anti_Heroin Chic 

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Haiku for Donald

petulant pillock

postcranial curmudgeon

bombastic buffoon.

 

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Trumputin (a romance)

Don loves Vlad
Vlad loves Don
Love as big as
A nuclear bomb.

Front door, back door,
Kremlin, tower
Nuclear love
Nuclear power.

 

Skunk Two

struts across the lawn

with a cleric’s confidence

tail cocked and cocksure.

 

This is an alternative version of the previous post (I don’t know how people write novels, seventeen syllables gives me enough problems). I think this version is more musical because of the alliteration at the end, and because “sphincter” is not a very musical word. Comments, opinions are welcome.

Cherry Blossoms Bloom (3 haiku)

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Cherry Blossoms Bloom

I

cherry blossoms bloom

well-dressed ladies from Beijing

pose with hand on hip

II

cherry blossoms bloom

the air is sticky with greed

houses, for sale, sold.

III

cherry blossoms bloom

the wrecking ball’s lazy swing

petals, debris, spring.

These 3 poems appeared separately in Spring of last year, I thought they worth assembling together. They are probably the only poems ever written about cherry blossoms and the Vancouver Real Estate Market.