ice crystals fringe
the stems of seedpods
that rattle in wind.
Ice Fringe [Haiku]
10
Category Archives: poem
“October” by Robert Frost [w/ Audio]
O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes' sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost --
For the grapes' sake along the wall.
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Moon Cameo [Haiku]
cloudy night walker sees his shadow;
looks up for Moon’s brief showing.
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Livestock Rush Hour [Haiku]
horde of livestock
sprawls puddle-strewn lane
between downpours.
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Elusive Cicada [Senryū]
seeking cicada
that drills my brain,
I find only a shell.
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“Worldly Place” by Matthew Arnold [w/ Audio]
Even in a palace, life may be led well!
So spake the imperial sage, purest of men,
Marcus Aurelius. But the stifling den
Of common life, where, crowded up pell-mell,
Our freedom for a little bread we sell,
And drudge under some foolish master's
ken
Who rates us if we peer outside our pen --
Match'd with a palace, is not this a hell?
Even in a palace! On his truth sincere,
Who spoke these words, no shadow ever
came;
And when my ill-school'd spirit is aflame
Some nobler, ampler stage of life to win,
I'll stop, and say: "There were no succour
here!
The aids to noble life are all within."
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Pelican Ambiguity [Senryū]
Crocodile Wu Wei [Lyric Poem]
Sunning on the shore,
As in days of yore
When the ancient beast
Stood its ground to feast,
Waiting for one to crawl
Near its gaping maw...
Then, SNAP!
CRUNCH! - Crunch - crunch...
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“Ultima Thule: Dedication to G. W. G.” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow [w/ Audio]
With favoring winds, o'er sunlit seas,
We sailed for the Hesperides,
The land where golden apples grow;
But that, ah! that was long ago.
How far, since then, the ocean streams
Have swept us from that land of dreams,
That land of fiction and of truth,
The lost Atlantis of our youth!
Whither, ah, whither? Are not these
The tempest-haunted Orcades,
Where sea-gulls scream, and breakers roar,
And wreck and sea-weed line the shore?
Ultima Thule! Utmost Isle!
Here in thy harbors for a while
We lower our sails; a while we rest
From the unending, endless quest.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 