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5212. alistairConnor - 5/19/2004 9:45:49 PM autumn's first hard frost
warm morning rays, ash leaves fall
like champagne bubbles 5213. alistairConnor - 5/19/2004 9:47:39 PM [same tree]
spiky lacy ash
budding fingers reach skywards
asserting the spring 5214. Macnas - 5/19/2004 9:52:31 PM Have you hit a birthday alistair? 5215. alistairConnor - 5/19/2004 9:59:38 PM har.
midlife crisis if you like.
Never tried poetry before. Perhaps the rigours of the haiku form are mere trainer wheels, but I like the constraints for the moment. 5216. Macnas - 5/19/2004 11:19:18 PM I wrote my Missus a clumsy one many years ago,
I know two emeralds
They burn in a sea
of red gold fire 5217. alistairConnor - 5/20/2004 6:28:43 AM I'm starting with the most rigorous form, 5-7-5, must reference a season.
Finding it fun so far. 5218. Macnas - 5/20/2004 7:11:52 PM A car hit my bike
My fucking bike is knackered
Wheels and springs banjaxed 5219. NuPlanetOne - 5/25/2004 8:14:06 AM Some Things I Forgot
There are some things I left behind
Words that still hang in the air like
A help cry unheard and muffled
You know that moment when you
Lose the ability to speak as emotion
Hurts the vocal chords, like that
But what I did say and because I
Didn’t realize you didn’t care just hung
In space after it passed your head
You waited for the part where I couldn’t
Speak the look on my face that assured you
I realized in horror how alone I was
I remember fumbling around for a cigarette
And how loud the sound was after you tossed
A pack toward me and it hit the glass table
A tear splashed next to the cigarettes
As I reached down and the next tear hit the
Back of my hand and I watched it trickle
And you could watch comfortably like seeing
Tragedy on television and feeling safe and secure
Because nothing was happening to you
Then I watched you and I had enough grief
Momentum that you weren’t aware that I was
Looking suddenly at your situation
And going through the motions of my pain
And disbelief I saw what you looked like
And though I was confused I oddly felt relieved
I don’t know exactly when this all came back to me
But now going back to get my things I could feel
It all hanging in the air as if waiting for me
You walked in as I was about to leave and as the door
Opened all the muddle in the room seemed to suck
Out and whoosh down the hallway ahead of me.
5220. Ulgine Barrows - 5/25/2004 4:27:29 PM Bitch, don't tell me to open any more doors
I been holding them open for ages 5221. alistairConnor - 5/25/2004 6:53:36 PM That's very palpable, Nu. Moving. Moving out.
UB, one wants to reply : don't let it hit you on the... 5222. Macnas - 5/25/2004 7:28:22 PM Alistair, did you like my haiku in no.5218? 5223. alistairConnor - 5/25/2004 8:22:45 PM Yes I did. A pedant might object that the use of the word "springs" is cheating, if you mean it to qualify as a seasonal haiku...
but I find it has the vivid evocation and the emotional charge of the authentic haiku.
Is it a true story? 5224. Macnas - 5/25/2004 8:47:02 PM Thankfully no, it is not true, but I do appreciate your kind analysis. I do not think I'm much good at the seasonal thing though.
One can imagine the Samurai, as they prepare for battle, using the haiku to express their true feelings before they engage the enemy:
Have you seen my sword?
I put it with my armour
Some bastard took it.
5225. jexster - 5/28/2004 5:09:10 AM The following was presented to the SF Ten Year Planning Council at hearings yesterday on the City's Ten Year Plan to End Chronic homelessness
THE SOLUTION
I AM THE AGE OLD PROBLEM: I WAS BORN
I GREW UP TO BE ONE OF "THEM"
I AM THE CAUSE AND THE REASON FOLKS MOURN
I AM THE FLAW IN THE BEAUTIFUL GEM
IF IT WEREN'T FOR ME, SEE HOW FREE YOU WOULD BE?
YOU COULD LIKE YOUR LIFE IN PEACE AND BEAUTY
YOU WOULD NOT HAVE TO LOOK AT ME
YOU WOULD NOT HAVE TO THINK OF ME AS YOUR DUTY
I once had a mother who loved me
And I suppose you did too
There must be a way that we could agree
On a Plan for me to stop bothering you
THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH JAILS TO HOLD US
NOR ENOUGH GUARDS TO KEEP US INSIDE
THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH LOCKS AND KEYS AND FENCES
NOR WALLS ENOUGH BEHIND WHICH TO HIDE
WHEN YOU ASK: "HOW CAN I HELP YOU?"
Excuse me, please; your arrogance shows
LISTEN SWEET ANGEL, Adjust your view;
To perceive what those disgusting "THEM" know....
IT IS "WE" WHO POSSESS THE ENERGY
BE NOT THE MOSQUITO WHICH BITES
"THINK", DEAR ONE. HOW YOU WANT IT TO BE
Service will bring it about, NOT FIGHTS. - Anonymous, 82 year old San Francisco homeless woman 5226. justears - 6/4/2004 12:19:33 AM You don’t notice as bugs
drill for blood
on the back of your neck
leaving a series of welts
like prayer beads,
as you concentrate
on the next rainbow.
5227. justears - 6/7/2004 12:11:20 AM High muddy water
and the trout disappear.
The fisherman gets desperate
caught between the beauty
of mere being and desire
for the old thrill
of strike, capture and release.
5228. wonkers2 - 6/9/2004 10:56:38 AM Poems of Blood and Anger 5229. ElliottRW - 6/9/2004 11:39:55 AM Dead tomorrow, possibly,
splashing in puddle,
poking beak amongst feathers,
shaking tail up-and-down;
blackbird is happy.
Dead tomorrow, possibly,
racing through Queen Anne's lace,
laughing at nothing,
touching without worry;
child is happy.
Dead tomorrow, possibly,
watching,
remembering,
smiling;
man is happy. 5230. ElliottRW - 6/9/2004 11:47:17 AM Justears, 5226.
I really like this poem. It works for me on two levels, first by provoking memories of last Summer's vacation to Cape Breton Island. Second, it is a superbly concise illustration of ... something I recognize. 5231. ElliottRW - 6/9/2004 12:03:02 PM (Working backward)
Macnas...The Samurai haiku is hilarious.
jexster...you are everywhere.
NuPlanetOne...ouch. Also, cigarettes are bad for you.
Here is a true story, Macnas, style:
car smacks errant bike
face smacks windshield hard and bright
buttocks smack asphalt
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