a night heron,
up & about at sunrise,
like diehard revellers.
Night Heron [Senryū]
1
Category Archives: poem
“Be Not Afeard” [from The Tempest] by William Shakespeare [w/ Audio]
Be not afeard: the isle is full of noises,
Sound and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices,
That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open and show riches
Ready to drop upon me; that, when I wak'd
I cried to dream again.
NOTE: In The Tempest, Act III: Scene 2, Caliban speaks these words to Stephano and Trinculo.
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A Tender Shade of Green [Haiku]
the leaves that hang
out over the river are
Early Spring green.
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Banker’s Limerick
There once was a profiteering banker
Who inspired only feelings of rancor.
When making rates for loans,
He stressed all the unknowns.
"Your yoghurt shop might be hit by an oil tanker!"
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“Renunciant’s Song” by Su Shi [w/ Audio]
The night is clear, even pristine --
A nightscape in silver moonlight.
"Yes, please! Pour me a bowl of wine.
Don't skimp! take it up to the brim."
And why should I chase wealth and fame
When it is sure to end in vain?
Events pass like a horse's sigh,
A spark on stone, or dream travel.
I can put out my ideas,
But who'll accept them as the truth?
Why shouldn't I just live happily
And innocently, like a child?
I could go back to carefree days
When life's trifles weren't torturesome.
Just me, my lute, a pot of wine,
And the stories drawn by the clouds.
NOTES: Song Dynasty Poet, Su Shi, was also known as Su Dongpo. The translated title of this poem also varies. In Deep, Deep the Courtyard, translated by Xu Yuanchong, it is entitled, “Song of Pilgrimage.”
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Singer’s Limerick
There once was a primadonna singer
Who on a note could forever linger.
Thinking her a showboat
For dragging out one note,
The band took five mid-melisma to share chicken fingers.
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Palace Views [Haiku]
did ancient occupants
look upon new walls and gates,
or cloud reflections?
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Unity [Free Verse]
Cogs without machines
Don't roll far.
And when they've settled,
They have no movement.
They are all existence,
And no process.
Their worldlines have
Flatlined.
They have no experience,
(And bliss lies in the
Experience of experience.)
They have only a longing
For non-existence...
Or to be reinstalled.
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“Mowing” by Robert Frost [w/ Audio]
There was never a sound beside the wood but one,
And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground.
What was it it whispered? I knew not well myself;
Perhaps it was something about the heat of the sun,
Something, perhaps, about the lack of sound --
And that was why it whispered and did not speak.
It was no dream of the gift of idle hours,
Or easy gold at the hand of fay or elf:
Anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak
To the earnest love that laid the swale in rows,
Not without feeble-pointed spikes of flowers
(Pale orchises), and scared a bright green snake.
The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows.
My long scythe whispered and left the hay to make.
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Monk’s Limerick
There once was a virtuous, old monk
Who never, ever had sex or got drunk.
He lived in silence,
And practiced non-violence...
Till one day, in a funk, he kicked a young monk
In the junk.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 