This is a note to tell you
that Wall Street has taken away
the things I really needed:
my workshop, my reindeer, my sleigh.
I now make my rounds on a jackass;
he’s old and crippled and slow.
So, if you don’t see me come Christmas,
I’ll be out on my ass in the snow.
Santa mounts a new challenge.
Filed under cartoon by author, Christmas, poetry, Silly Saturday
So many puddles. /
Each rain drop muddles the world. /
Liquid, dark mirror.
[Editor's note: This Haiku was a response to one found on another blog. However, when I reblogged the original and my response. Neither one came out very well. Seems the reblogging technology doesn't comprehend haiku. Anyway, here is my haiku.]
I crave the sound of your voice,
the touch of your syllables to my ear,
a kindness of words only you can speak.
Sentences that mean nothing
when spoken by others –
a clattering of consonants to these empty ears –
are wonder of time on your lips.
Your voice carries the lightness of words,
the weight of our history,
and the magic of the moment yet to be.
Filed under free verse, poem, poetry
Yes, we all must live /
in the here and now — at least /
every now and then.
Filed under haiku, humor and haiku, poem, poetry
Three leaves gather rain. /
Heavy with sky, touch the ground. /
Glistening repose.
Three leaves heavy with rain.
Filed under haiku, Photo by author, poem, poetry
In redeeming even a small part of the Earth, we redeem ourselves.
Jesus tossed among /
the trash in the creek; redeemed /
by a boy: Earth Day.
Filed under Earth Day, First Creek, haiku, Photo by author, poem, poetry
The blathering idiot knew April was poetry month and he thought he could impress his on again, off again girl friend Zoey with a poem or two. But the month was running out and he had not yet thought of anything poetic to write, though he had taken the time to study some about poetry making.
Additionally, after the restaurant fiasco where he had waited and waited and waited for an employee to come and wash his hands because the sign in the rest room clearly said: Employees must wash hands, and this caused him to leave Zoey’s young daughter Xenia sitting by herself for over 30 minutes, which she then reported to her mother, well, his relationship with Zoey had cooled once again.
So, this was his chance, though a part of him was beginning to wonder why he should care.
He started with something at least a little familiar:
Roses are red and violets are blue
Your eyes are weird and you are, too.
The blathering idiot was proud to have gotten three rhymes in two lines, but the more he looked at the couplet, the more he realized Zoey would not appreciate his poetic efforts at assonance. At least that what he thought it was called. She would probably say he was just being one.
He then tried something that incorporated the month:
The month of poetry is about to end
The rains of April have been real thin.
A new month stands about to begin.
May nouns, verbs & rain come again.
Once upon a poem dreary....
There once was a man from Nantucket
Who went on a dinner date and got stuck with it.
Not the bill, I say,
though that, too, came his way,
but the knife in his heart and the luck of it.
He read it and reread it and re-reread it, and then finally decided to put it in an envelope and mail it to her. He wasn’t from Nantucket – wherever that was – but she knew that. And while it didn’t directly mention love, love was there. And while Zoey wasn’t mentioned directly, she was in there, too.
He could only hope it wouldn’t give her too many ideas.
Filed under blathering idiot, cartoon by author, poetry
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