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Split Personality [Haiku]
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Category Archives: poem
Happy Fungi [Haiku]
the forest floor
is damp and dark, and
mushrooms are happy.
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Flash Flood [Haiku]
with days of rain,
the lake overflows its bank
to carve a creek.
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“Beginning My Studies” by Walt Whitman [w/ Audio]
Beginning my studies, the first step pleas'd me so much,
The mere fact, consciousness -- these forms -- the power of motion,
The least insect or animal -- the senses -- eyesight -- love;
The first step, I say, aw'd me and pleas'd me so much,
I have hardly gone, and hardly wish'd to go, any further,
But stop and loiter all the time, to sing it in ecstatic songs.
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Kailasa of Ellora [Blank Verse]
They carved a temple in a mountainside,
Cutting away all rock that wasn't temple,
Chipping from the top down and outside-in,
Until some domed stone segregated sky
From inner sanctum and all its idols,
And it has stood over twelve hundred years,
And it will surely stand twelve hundred more,
But someday it'll be a mountain again.
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The Spring Thickens [Haiku]
Spring has arrived!
the view from glade to glade
through woods, is no more.
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Forensic Psychologist’s Limerick
There once was a forensic psychologist
Who came across as quite the apologist:
"The arsonist, you see,
Simply yearns to be free --
Hence, burning all the walls - if you get my gist."
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“Tacit” [Poetry Style #12] by Sikong Tu [w/ Audio]
Without a word,
The gist is grasped.
With no wails or soft sobs,
Sadness spreads heart-to-heart.
There is an enigmatic Prime Mover
With whom each of us either sinks or floats.
Dregs of rustic wine in a fine strainer.
Buds on the cusp of bloom turned back by cold.
Dust motes spreading by Brownian motion.
Sea spume floating and tumbling onto shore.
Shallow, deep, cohering, or scattering.
Of ten thousand, any sample will do.
NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry. It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a translation of the twelfth of the twenty-four poems. Translated titles vary: Herbert Giles entitled this one “Conservation,” whereas Tony Barnstone and Chou Ping called it “The Implicit Style.”
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Secret Sunset [Haiku]
over the mountains,
the sun is setting
like a bad secret.
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“The Sick Rose” by William Blake [w/ Audio]
O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm
That flies in the night
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 