Tag: haiku
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Fluidity on “My Favorite Things” –a #reprise #haibun
First bars: da-da da, da da da: piano play. Steamer on an expresso machine superheats a caramel macchiato in the making. Or a cork on a bottle of California Burgundy pops open. Jazz-rhythm drums, catching the downbeat and bridging the intro, until the soul-satisfying melody line of John Coltrane’s saxophone strikes–“My Favorite Things,” Like that…
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“although the dog…” a #tanka (4/15/20)
4/15/20: prompt-free although the dog barks behind the wooden fence a walkway to the front door of the house remains inviting to all #tanka #micropoetry #poetry #NaPoWriMo2020 #GloPoWriMo2020
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My Daily #Haiku (4/15/20)
4/15/20: basket wisteria blooma picnic basket packedfor the backyard #haiku #micropoetry #poetry #NaPoWriMo2020 #GloPoWriMo2020 #coronavirus
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Publication Alert! (4/15/20)
I happy to have the following haiku appear in the Haiku Foundation’s Haiku Dialogue today! Thank you, Tia Haynes! Congratulations, haijin!
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The Inspirations of Mentors: a #NaPoWriMo2020 / #GloPoWriMo2020 #haibun
I call three poets my mentors: three women, three masters, three exemplars of the art A head bowed in awe Constance Coiner introduced me to Carolyn Forche. The poet was one of the modern American women writers we studied in Professor Coiner’s course of the same name. Forche’s The Country Between Us was the work…
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“waterlogged flora…” a #tanka (4/14/20)
4/14/20: self-healing waterlogged flora drying out in the scattered sunlight between clouds sit and seek the center all our self-healing becomes one #tanka #micropoetry #poetry #NaPoWriMo2020 #GloPoWriMo2020
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My Daily #Haiku (4/14/20)
4/14/20: envelope blooming dogwooda pile of envelopesin the mailbox #haiku #micropoetry #poetry #NaPoWriMo2020 #GloPoWriMo2020 #coronavirus
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The Renewal of an Apocalyptic Affair: a #NaPoWriMo2020 / #GloPoWriMo2020 #haibun
A simple carass, and your coughing begins. The slightest of kisses, and you become corpses frozen in the ice. I, the corruption of your so vulnerable flesh, wither you to your last wheeze. So like the old days, when I meandered across manure-stinking villages and filth-ridden cities, savoring the warmth of their breath. Thanatos and…
