Crow Ops
crows chasing eagle
across the evening sky
solidarity
crows chasing eagle
across the evening sky
there’s strength in numbers
crows chasing eagle
across the evening sky
half-moon, scattered cloud.
Today the challenge from Frank over at Dverse is to “write three-line poems or poems having mainly three-line stanzas.”
Check out Frank’s post here. https://dversepoets.com/2020/06/04/tercets/
haiku tortured night
surplus syllable flop sweat
cherry blossom hell.
Ironic Distancing
The mind wanders
I think of a word that rhymes with ‘banker’
and marvel at how
in the middle of a global crisis
my brain still tilts
towards the trivial, the juvenile.
I try a sound poem
panic, pandemic, pandemonium
but it’s missing something,
panache, perhaps.
I make up a joke involving Peter Pan
but decide now is not the time to share it.
I detect the late onset of maturity
and feel depressed.
I text some friends,
we try to out-snide each other
but after a while
we are all chewing on the same bone.
I’m besieged by an idiocy of idioms –
the whole nine yards
the whole kit and caboodle
and that’s only the tip of the iceberg.
I re-assess my relationship with surfaces
I can no longer count on
that counter to lean on,
and as someone inclined
to whistle past the graveyard
walk past the writing on the wall
I have to admit
that the object in the mirror
was a lot closer
than it first appeared.
I write a haiku
four in the morning
moon shining on toilet bowl
porcelain pathway.
Watch your back! Basho!
Taking part in open link weekend over at earthweal.
Poster
poster on the wall
Lennon at a piano
deconstructing Paul.
Perspective
imagine,
you, a frog
down a well,
above you
only sky.
Taking part in open link over at earthweal. This is obviously a re-post, I have not been inside a pub in Kitsilano or anywhere else for a few weeks. I was working on a few pandemic-related poems but it’s hard to keep pace with events.
Bike Ride in the Time of Corona
a faint whiff of weed
that old Vancouver perfume
cherry blossoms bloom
there’s an up for every down.
The prompt over at earthweal is “Silver Linings”
Because it’s St. Patrick’s Day (week)….some excerpts from my last trip home.
Conversation (hibernoku)
a low Dublin sky
a sentence hangs suspended
cut off in its prime
interrupt or die.
‘Hibernia’ is the classical Latin name for Ireland. A hibernoku is a haiku (seventeen syllables, 5-7-5) with an additional 5 or 7 syllable line, because for the Irish, seventeen syllables is a cruel limitation. The poem must contain an Irish reference and must allude to the weather in some way. In most parts of Ireland, ‘hibernoku’ is pronounced ‘hi-bern-o-koo’, except in West Cork where it is pronounced ‘hiber-nok-oo’.
Photo: Statue of the eternally quotable Oscar Wilde in Merrion Square, Dublin.
Weather
an easterly wind
clouds move in convoy ‘cross the blue dome of the sky.
Photo: A sunny mid September day in Sandy Cove, Dublin.
Family (haiku)
yep, had a few drinks
with my brother, my sisters
sibling ribaldry.
Photo: View looking south along the coast, from Vico Road. Dalkey, Co. Dublin. Bono owns a house nearby ……where all the streets have names….I checked.
Participating in Open Link Night over at dverse
Greta Thunberg at Davos
Pharisees, temples
the young lecturing the old
wilderness, a voice.
Taking part in open link weekend over at earthweal.
the sheriff is dead
failure to shoot deputies
is not a defence.
he felt deleted
like a worn-out expletive
declined, like a noun.
Photos: Waiting for the Drop
no more séances
these days, it’s hard to find a
happy medium
Day at the Beach
sand martins, low tide
mom’s new perm all blown to hell
a holiday wind
transistor blaring
Bobby Kennedy is dead
dad’s head turns slowly
Slim Dickens
David Copperfield
now there’s a name
to conjure with.
Let’s read Oliver Twist again
like we did last summer
let’s read Oliver Twist again
like we did last year.
Great Expectorations –
the plague novel
he never wrote.
Raccoons in the Road
caught in the headlights:
too much eye shadow, fellas,
too much eye shadow.
When Poets Fall Out
I know something’s up
you’re sending mixed metaphors
your rhythm’s way off.
Autumn Nail Sketch (haiku)
trees leaking colour
like a paint store catalogue
et tu, chlorophyll?
Taking part in Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #103 The Quest For A New Masterpiece Continues … Start Of Autumn.
Self-consciously Poetic Haiku referencing Greek Mythology
twixt deck and deck post
Arachne’s tremulous web
shimmers with wet pearls
Two Bros at the Art Gallery
v- necked, buffed, burnished
pumped, pectoral, and puzzled,
aerobatic hair.
hard men, old hatred,
prod, papist, patriot games
I thought you were done.
**********
haiku prompted by
the pratfall that is Brexit
and the re-entry
to my consciousness
of the DUP, Sinn Fein
and Gerry Adams.
Redwood Haiku
new shoots from old roots
deep in the cedar forest
I’m birthing clichés
End of Summer double septo (redux)
like a wasp in late August
circling a bin of regrets.
This poem is a double septo also known as a quatorze, it consists of two seven syllable lines.
Haiku overheard at the Day Care Centre
Brett is sensitive
about his silhouette don’t
look at him sideways.
The Tide
tide way out, sand packed,
the kids, impressionist smears
at the water’s edge.
Garbage Day (haiku)
mayhem in the lane
all the bins have flipped their lids
Jack has left the box.
If Robert Mueller Wrote a Tanka
Why the long face, Bob?
always that same damn question
since I was a boy,
and always the same answer:
it is long because it’s long.
Couldn’t resist reposting that one. Okay, just one more……
Mr’s Mueller’s Haiku
You’re disappointed
you don’t know disappointment
you don’t know damp squibs
Photo: English Bay, Vancouver, A-MAZE-ING LAUGHTER, by Yue Minjun.
Children held in camps at the US border…
the sultan of spin
in all his orange glory
can’t polish this one.
This was first posted a year ago, I guess I was wrong.
Stopdraggingthepanda 