Tag Archives: poem

Solitude Haiku [On the Third Day of NaPoMo]

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let us now pray
for short people with no one
to reach the top shelf


moon-gazer
sitting on a rooftop
hugging knees


silent morning
awakened by the sounds
that aren’t


closing eyes
seeking faces forgotten,
sadly failing


what void
holds the millions
unseen



[Since it’s National Poetry Month (NaPoMo,) I’m trying to do a different form each day. So far: limericks, a sonnet, and haiku. If you know of any obscure forms, I’d be glad to hear of them, because I don’t think I know 30 flavors of poetry, presently — relatively short form, of course, I don’t have the time or skill to do an epic narrative in a day. (Though micro-narrative will certainly be a thing.)]

A Sonnet in Contradictions [Day 2 NaPoMo: Sonnet]

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a tantrum caught on the face, but not thrown
a barrier unseen, like a mime’s “box”
a sprouting plant sprung from a seed unsown
and time shown on broken, not working, clocks

passing the test using knowledge unknown
farmer plows no field with an oxless ox
interest free loans and the silent moan
sale on magic, mineral-deficient rocks

train bound for nowhere at nought miles-an-hour
entropy decrease, the Second Law is dashed
try solving world peace with all-purpose flour
car jumps from a telephone pole uncrashed

i’ve seen all these, and oh so many more,
but i’m not some self-aggrandizing poet-whore

Viral Limerick III

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I once tried an act of repositioning
to escape a fellow, uninteresting.
Back then, I did offend,
Too late, I have a mend,
Nowadays it’s just called “social distancing.”

Viral Limerick II

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There once lived a procurator named Pilate.
If not for but one thing you’d say, “What?”
But his legend, it stands,
because he washed his hands,
So take a hint and be more like Pontius Pilate!

Viral Limerick [Day 1 NaPoMo: Limerick]

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There once was a globetrotting virus.
I can’t say it was meant to inspire us.
But this poem, I wrote.
It ends on a high note,
Bit-coin works for St. Peter or Osiris.

POEM: Depths & Recesses

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a message

unsent

unread

stored in a mind of a million muttering voices

where simple skeletons are stored in an elaborate closet,

and no wise eyes can peer into the depths & recesses

Flowering Haiku

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hectic sidewalk
frangipani blossoms
stepped over


calling bees
scent, color, and glory
unrivaled


the hillside
when rhododendrons bloom
shangri la


for two weeks
the valley flowers,
its spell cast

 

purple circle
rings the base of a tree
regal shadow

POEM: Tonton Makout

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shambling from fields of cane
Uncle Gunny was their bane
a ghost personified
kidnap & zombify

 

and so wander the Dead

Falling Water Haiku

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thunder yon
Zambezi rafting
greenhorns beware


cataract
water wind-misted
plume-zone green


terraced hill
rice paddy cascades
depth perfection


dry season
murmur to trickle to
fall-less falls


level rising
the overspill rolls
pulling drops

POEM: Calypso Facto

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For seven years,
Ulysses was hostage to Calypso.

He was like, “Wife is waiting, gotta go!”

“You know, by Neptune, you are still cursed?”

“Being stranded with you was fun at first…”

“Out there’s the ever-present threat of Death.”

“Worth it, to not wake to your morning breath.”

COVID-19, you are my Calypso!



[Anyone got Zeus’s number?]