Category: Poetry

Friday Poetry for 08 December 2017

Friday Poetry for 08 December 2017

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From the vault. The note in the original file is that it’s on the occasion of my almost ten-month-old son’s third cold. He’ll be turning 19 shortly.

 

Few things shake your soul

Like a baby with a cold

Pick me up, put me down

Turn me over, turn me around

Go away, come here, go away

No, wait, I want you to stay

I’m tired, can’t sleep

I’m hungry, won’t eat

I’m thirsty, won’t drink

Just pour the milk down the sink

Short naps in the bed

Rub my tummy, rub my head

Daddy’s tired, needs a rest

Mama-mama (likes her best)

Cry and scream, scream and cry

Daddy needs a quiet place to lie

Mommy’s home, at last, at last

Pass the baby, quickly, fast

Daddy sits and sighs, he’s rather glad

Then comes the scream, I want my dad!

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Friday Poetry

Friday Poetry

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Words strewn across a page

Can capture any age

Express random thoughts

Show battles won or fought

A moment set in time

An image held in mind

Encourage ideas

Share hopes and dreams and fears

Persuade or strike a blow

Or merely say hello

Any voice can be heard

By simple, printed word

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Friday Poetry – A Blank Verse Sonnet

Friday Poetry – A Blank Verse Sonnet

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Tell me again how there’s no global warming.

Oh right, we’re supposed to say climate change.

I see, it was cold where you are today,

And god is taking care of everything.

Sorry? It’s warm and it’s supposed to be?

Well, of course, you must still be correct then.

What difference a few billion humans,

A few thousand years of shaping the world?

Isn’t it nice to live consequence-free

And know nothing you do really matters?

Your kids will inherit the same old world,

Still turning the same as it always has.

But if you’re wrong, maybe clean up a bit?

Or at least try not to shit where we eat?

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A Little Verse for a Friday

A Little Verse for a Friday

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Thought maybe we’d try a sonnet this week. Shakespearean, more or less, but the subject is a little less traditional.

 

There is a place for each of you, and more

In the depth of my ever-growing heart

Away from prying eyes, I’ll keep you for

My memories. Nostalgic, and apart

From living life, each moment as I may,

I will recall the times that brought me joy

As well savour heartache, clutch cherished pain

Each artistic scrawl and forgotten toy

An instant on the path from then to now

An on into the dreams and years ahead

The paths you’ll take, the choices showing how

You’ll walk a winding path of thrill and dread.

To lives and families you’ll build. I’ll see,

With bursting heart, just what you’ll come to be.

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Haiku on Friday

Haiku on Friday

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Or Friday Haiku. Fri-ku, if you will.

 

Wrapped in a blanket

A warm, comfortable jail

While claws are trimmed

Safe inside the hide

The kale begins to vanish

Guinea Pig’s victim

Social animals

Find value in being kind

So do some humans

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Friday Haiku for 20 May 2016

Friday Haiku for 20 May 2016

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  • haiku-verticalInterceptions done
  • Engines lost to history
  • Voodoo rests alone
  • Crisp, crackling stems
  • The bones of last year’s garden
  • Slowly pushed aside
  • Grass newly shortened
  • Birds landing for a fresh hunt
  • Insects search for gaps
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Friday Haiku

Friday Haiku

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haiku-vertical

 

Three recent scribblings by me.

Clouds obscure sunset

Hiding horizon’s rainbow

A sprinkle of drops

Soft through the kitchen

Paws, nearly silent, pacing

Waiting for dinner

Under clear blue sky

Rushing across the fresh grass

Rabbit feels the sun

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Haiku and Away!

Haiku and Away!

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haiku-verticalHaiku: a traditional form of Japanese poetry consisting of seventeen syllables, in three lines of five, seven, and five, usually concerned with nature.

Okay, dramatically oversimplified. I’ve left out cutting and kigo. And I’ve left out how haiku been imported to half the languages on the planet, doesn’t have to conform to the traditional 5-7-5, and how it doesn’t have to be seasonal in nature anymore.

I love haiku, reading and writing. One of my writing goals this year, and the one I’m most likely to hit, is to compose 500 of them. As of this writing, I’m over 100 so far for the year, and there are two books on the form in my reading list for this year.

I mostly like the forced 5-7-5 structure, even though you can argue that English has a higher information density so that should be cut back a bit to a total of either 11 or 12 syllables. While I’m considering experimenting, the 5-7-5 is easily recognized by pretty much everyone as “standard haiku”.

For subject matter, however, while my haiku don’t always reflect the natural world, there’s nature everywhere. Sometimes (fairly often) it’s nature. Sometimes it’s human nature. Sometimes it’s (science) fictional nature.

The thing is, I’m not sure where the fascination came from. There was a time, ten years or so back, when I was in the middle of a long term experiment with a variety of poetic forms, as much to stretch myself as to find forms I like. (Side note: free verse, so beloved of modern poets, is not poetry. No structure = not a poem. Feel free to argue if you like.)

I did find other forms I like, but the haiku keeps coming back, so this year I’m embracing it.

Three of my favourites from January:

.

Multiple mushrooms

Dance to fall under the knife

Protein for the soup

.

A fistful of rage

Denied the right to oppress

True righteous anger

.

Bound by gravity

A thousand spinning stars wait

Pale, blue-tinged cotton

Be well, everyone.

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