Category Archives: poetry by author

Haiku to you Thursday: “Straggler”

The straggler grieves /

for the love he left behind /

fading into daylight.

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Haiku to you Thursday: “Love is…”

Purple Iris after a rain.

 

Love is a flower. /

Often too short a time /

but always a wonder.

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Monday (morning) writing joke: “Faking it”

There once was a writer ignorant of history, /

For whom dates and names were a mystery. /

Did it happen there? /

Did anyone really care? /

It let him tell the story so simplistically.

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The pot and the kettle

Letting off steam.

 

The pot and the kettle

The pot and the kettle /

made of weak metal /

are less than fundamental: /

They’re not right./

 

They put on displays /

In fundamental ways /

Undermining mainstays /

And creating only blight./

 

“My lies can’t compete /

With falsehoods you repeat./

Put down your tweet /

And tell me what to say.”/

 

But the pot said to the kettle:/

“You’ve got to keep your mettle/

Because I won’t settle/

For nothing less today./

 

“We remain on course/

In all our discourse/

There will be no divorce/

From my lies that are true.”/

 

Said the kettle to the pot:/

“You have said a lot/

Some of which has begot/

Us in a trouble or two.”/

 

“That doesn’t matter.”/

The pot said like a mad hatter./

“All the facts are but chatter/

That will go away./

 

“We must all remember/

The role of a dissembler/

Is not in any way render/

Anything that will stay./

 

“A lie we tell here/

We tell it loud and clear/

But we do not ever steer/

As if those words are right./

 

“We will lie as we must/

As on and on they discuss/

That in us they cannot trust/

And in that is our might.”/

 

“We start at the beginning/

And blame them for our sinning/

Grafting and grinning/

Together all the way./

 

“For the true believer/

Has a different receiver/

And it matters not which lever/

We jerk down today.”/

 

The pot and the kettle /

made of weak metal /

are less than fundamental: /

They’re not right./

 

They put on displays /

In fundamental ways /

Undermining mainstays /

Creating death and blight./

 

–by David E. Booker

 

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Haiku to you Thursday: “Rush hour II”

Doppler whines and groans: /

Asphalt, tires, steel, and luck. /

Roadside trees wave bye.

 

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Monday morning writing joke: “Pointed”

There once was a writer of romance. /

Who often had her characters de-pants. /

Some said she oughta /

Instead be writing erotica. /

Her knights were always using the wrong lance.

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Haiku to you Thursday: “Rush hour”

Car horns blare forth /

the frustration wound within. /

Sound steadies nothing.

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