ekkis
|
poetry = nonsense
nonsense = meaninglessness
meaninglessness = void
void = nothingness
nothingness = spirit
nonsense = meaninglessness
meaninglessness = void
void = nothingness
nothingness = spirit
Haiku (Traditional format) |
---|
Router lights blinking
furiously at 3 A.M.
-- traffic from abroad
Every day I see
more of the world, yet somehow,
I am no wiser
Blue hornets nesting
outside my bedroom window
-- I'm abuzz with joy
The dryer tumbles
my shirts and socks round and round
-- cold nights, yummy warm socks
A fresh razor blade
so I don't tear my face up
-- this is luxury
Frogs legs on my plate
after much croaking he croaked
-- tastes just like chicken!
(version II)
The little frog croaked
one final time, for my plate
- tastes just like chicken!
O Wise DBA!
In the table of thee, what's
the primary key?
The gardener just quit
Now the trees can breathe easy
-- this is happiness
Sorry to have missed
your call - my chances at life.
Leave a message. Beep.
I sneezed in my house
So alike, inside and out
the geese fled startled
[22 VI 98]
Look within to see
the outside world in full view
Mirrors is all we are
Feel -- taku scan-scan
the Dakotan mystery
Something in motion
Sitting in the tub
a blade between my fingers
how pathetic, I
Funny little mouse
hiding under newspaper
his tail sticking out
A man lies buried
by his gravestone floret blooms
soon she too will fade
Lying on her back
legs loosely open for me
what more could I want?
So tired, the old man
wonders if he'll have the strength
to live one more day
it's all sex and death
...and laughter, all bundled up
in a jumbled mess
Poetry, Passion
Nonsense devoid of meaning
So says The Bard
Trinity loves me
She belongs to another
-- but that matters not
My phone sits idle
waiting for a call to ring
-- I stare, waiting too
Tears roll down my cheeks,
salty expressions of joy
and sublime moments
Dinner by myself
Onions, yams, a stout. Loneliness.
Something emptying
Work, the penalty
we pay for having to eat
-- perhaps I should fast
Every slave harbours
as futile as it may seem
the hope of freedom
the poor fellow drowned
just below the waters' surface
-- hoping to make it
Shapeless impressions
twist and shift in pink and green
when I close my eyes
I saw me today
in the mirror. Dry, lifeless
A withered flower
I heard a man speak
of the best times of his life
and felt I've missed out
I've been abusive
by writing just any thought
of the haiku form
I'm sliding again
but I don't care anymore
poor self centered me
the melancholy
of a woman's voice singing
I sit all alone
I lie on soft sheets
I lie in an empty tub
I lie underground
[16 VIII 09]
The teapot whistles
beckons me from my dreaming
-- time for tea, and you
[16 VIII 09]
The candle rages
as if it were a wild fire
-- in its little dish
[16 VIII 09]
so cute koalas
and affectionate seeming
but beware, or ouch!
[7 IX 09]
recorded in stone
papyrus or celluloid
- human tragedy
[09-09-09]
spiders with their nets
proscribe my reach to bug spray
- without meaning to
a steaming bathtub
shampoo bottles on the shelf
a drink in my hand
[14 IX 09]
so still stands the finch
whilst the world falls to pieces
- little does he care
[23-IX-2010]
means of deception
doublespeak used as weapons
our media today
[10-I-2013] Copyright © 2011 Erick Calder |
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