haiku

 

Lord, I’ve been thinking

I need to make some changes

So, where do I start?

Memories

 

Peering into my past

Like into a hazy crystal ball

Hills, grass, trees, sisters

haiku

 

This psycho weather!

Of six lined up on the couch,

What coat should I wear?

Just for fun

 Poet’s Block

 

I’d like to write a poem

But nothing seems to stick

Starting and stopping

When will ideas click?

 

A scenic ride in Venice

A prayer to the Lord

A new car perhaps

Or something I can afford

 

I can write down what’s around me

Like I’ve often done before

But even that is not appealing

There’s got to be something more

 

I should think of a metaphor

So I’ll surely sound poetic

Can I think of some new insights

Without sounding like a heretic.

 

Perhaps describe my feelings

But that may be too depressing

I can go on and on like this

And keep myself guessing

 

Well as it often happens

As it has done today

I don’t have any ideas

But I write a poem anyway.

Valentine Poetic Asides

 In Celebration

 

Unmarried people often

regard Valentine’s Day

as single-awareness day.

But in celebration of love,

we can also celebrate friendship,

kindness, and love.

 

Elementary teachers have it right

when they have kids bring Valentines

for everyone in the class.

This Valentine’s Day, celebrate

the special people in your life,

even if you’re single or unromantic.

Love Haibun Poetic Bloomings

 Love Poems

 

I don’t like to write love poems. Cause to me love is a hodgepodge of things, quite undefinable. Romantic love, even worse. After forty-four years together, romance seems so long ago. No more flowers, candies or dinner dates. No long talks, hand in hand, along the beach in the summer. No chasing leaves in the fall. No snow ball fights in the winter. No tulip and daffodil bouquets in spring. But we say I love you and mean it.

Romance is foreign

Our love is like an oak tree

Thriving in the North

Story Poetic Asides

 A Weird Dream

 

A writing group I was with

took a trip and stopped for ice cream.

I was sitting at the end,

handy to the server.

 

She gave me the ice cream,

usually a cone,

till the one who ordered it

came and got it.

 

This went on, one cone after another.

 One cone had about 14 scoops, all flavors.

I was glad when that person got theirs

because it was about to topple over.

 

Then I held a fat mint cone

topped with chocolate syrup.

A man came to get it and left,

presumably to pay for it.

 

He didn’t come back.

About ready to eat it myself,

since it was melting over my hand,

I gave it to who I thought was a server.

 

But she was on the trip like me.

I couldn’t remember what I had ordered.

When it came, it was called a fruit cup.

“Did I order this?” I asked.

 

People next to me nodded,

“Yes, you ordered that.”

A tiny thing like you get at the store

with a cardboard pull tab.

 

It was orange sherbet

with a little fruit mixed in.

I asked, “What was I thinking?”

Then I woke up.

 

What could this dream possibly mean?

Do I think I’m shorting myself in life?