01/07/06
Ms. Haiku
Washington DC Posts: 7,265
I woke up and the sky was yellow.
The pale petals of a rose, distant and evasive.
The yellow was entire.
There were no holes for communities of clouds
or the wine of rain.
I wondered if my imagination had flown
or did it take root again.
The pale petals of a rose, distant and evasive.
The yellow was entire.
There were no holes for communities of clouds
or the wine of rain.
I wondered if my imagination had flown
or did it take root again.
There is no such thing as leftover pizza. There is now pizza and later pizza. - anonymous
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
Post edited by Unknown User on
0
Comments
The pale petals of a rose, distant and evasive.
There were no holes for communities of clouds
or the wine of rain.
I saw the tailored you
drinking coffee and
daydreaming of windowless divisions
between you and the
next space. Your hands were cold.
Secure only in your idea of order
you tapped the pencil against the coffee cup.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
You've outdone yourself Ms. Haiku.
As she slams the door in his drunken face
And now he stands outside
And all the neighbours start to gossip and drool
He cries oh, girl you must be mad,
What happened to the sweet love you and me had?
Against the door he leans and starts a scene,
And his tears fall and burn the garden green
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
but it´s almost there....IMHO
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
As she slams the door in his drunken face
And now he stands outside
And all the neighbours start to gossip and drool
He cries oh, girl you must be mad,
What happened to the sweet love you and me had?
Against the door he leans and starts a scene,
And his tears fall and burn the garden green
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
Very nice, Ms. Haiku. Keep those creative juices flowing!
Ms. Haiku, you have that elusive air. I usually seem to find your writing mysterious and compelling, like it is a reflection in a pool of rippled water... it is there but it is not quite fully revealed..... or something far off in mist, in the distance. Mystery and intrigue. Nice one Ms. Haiku.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
it was wierd.
i had a poem going from heart break, to fishing ponds, to dissatisfaction with society at large
I was fascinated with the many different things that piece became
not unlike the different impressions each individual reader must have of a given piece, yes?
cool beans
you've still got a haiku-ish aura around this one, evident in the cut-short, divergent last line. stand-alone as it is, it leads nowhere... i'm waiting for the wazoo... the enlightenment... one more line, when you get time
hahahahaha I just made myself laugh. OF COURSE, EH!
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
restricted how? emotionally, physically, spiritually, psychotically?
As she slams the door in his drunken face
And now he stands outside
And all the neighbours start to gossip and drool
He cries oh, girl you must be mad,
What happened to the sweet love you and me had?
Against the door he leans and starts a scene,
And his tears fall and burn the garden green
laughing right alongside
The pale petals of a rose, dropped and distant
creating a path where a queen would walk.
But there were no holes for her communities of clouds
or her cups of rain.
I saw the tailored you drinking coffee and
devising windowless divisions
between you and the next space.
Your hands looked cold.
Secure only in your idea of order
you tapped the pencil against the empty coffee cup.
I removed you from my sight like a white evening glove prized then forgotten.
I looked away to remember what color had been.
For olderman: Emotionally restricted resulted in restricted movements. I made it easy by emptying the cup.
This poem ends 1/13/06. Let's see how far I get, eh?
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
(oh, and i should probably tell you that you inspired me both consciously and subconsciously to post that piece on petals... i wrote it a few days ago. i'm glad you do some of your "work" here... thanks so much... i used to be yellow... but now i am some carbohydratey type thing... lol... go figure... keep it up... we're reading)
The pale petals of a rose, dropped and distant
creating a path where a queen would walk.
But there were no holes for her communities of clouds
or her cups of rain.
I removed you from my sight like a white evening glove prized then forgotten.
I looked away to remember what color had been.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
But I loved the part about the emotionally restricted man, have you cut it out?
I think burtschips has a good point, and something I have to work on. I don't want my poetry to be too mysterious or of withdrawing from the audience, leaving something to the imagination. I want to write clearly so that others clearly understand what I'm writing. Writing emotion, particularly the day to day bridge between two people, is something I need to work on.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
The pale petals of a rose overlapping.
The yellow curved beyond edges
and slipped under the lifting fog.
The yellow and the fog rolled
like oil and water; a temporal debate.
I felt life stuck in this moment,
but then it moved with the streams of icicles.
The longest day during this week,
and I needed a reason to think.
The unfolding brightness of beginnings blinded me
stumbling, I grabbed for the table
and a few pens slipped.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
the woman is the yellow... the man, the fog?
the only ellusion left to conflict remains in the "oil and water... the temporal debate". but, to me, this is where the meat of this piece is... i liked the tension in the visual of the man tapping his coffee cup. i wanted to smack his fool head, upside....
but. haiku, this is what happened with my rolling edit/revision... it took on new meaning and sputtered and failed at the end, so much so I was disgusted with my own betrayal of the original intenet. lol... i felt like a politician
at some point, snapshot this and take out some of the superflous words.... should "life stuck" be "life-stuck"? or is it "life stick"? i kinda like the assonance in the repeating "i"s... but "week" and "think" are a bit too similar in this application...
just my o's...
pass the salt
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
For me, I like the way you have developed the yellow sky, the atmosphere, but I think the man could still work with it, I think the yellow sky is the scene, the man is the subject, just for me. the relationship with the man, the man, is played out against the yellow..... I could see the stanzas interchanging, maybe the man developing, so then it could be choppy, maybe.... but there must be a way of binding the two seemlessly if that is what you would like to achieve. Maybe the man is choppy and the yellow flows and the contrast between the two is the link.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird