I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

29 February 2012

NaHaiWriMo 2012 Week Four

Feb. 22: vent

cool morning air
through the open door
magpies calling

February 23: Today's writing prompt is to write mischievously about a cross-eyed paleontologist studying a one-legged rhinoceros beetle nibbling an Egyptian mummy’s shoulder blade during the summer solstice on Mars, and be sure to refer to a mega-hard Sudoku puzzle, torn Monopoly money, and a vampire, plus a Mongolian-speaking Nobel prize-winner who dances polkas whenever he hears “Moves Like Jagger” on bagpipes or the Macarena song performed on an out-of-tune Northumbrian squeezebox underwater. And be sure to type in your poem with your nose while singing a Broadway show tune, since you should now have plenty of practice at doing exactly that. Anything less and I shall be supremely disappointed. Just kidding. Again. Instead, write about . . . a wig.

on Mars

summer solstice


cross, I

watch rhino beetles

unwrap Mummy

crosswords please

not Sudoko numbers

too cryptic

blood money

vampires tear into


Obama now

moves like Jagger

dancing underwater

peace prize winner

out of tune with the people

faces new battles

the squeeze is felt

in Outer Mongolia

Pandora’s box


or Macarena ...

let’s just polka

nobody knows

the trouble I’ve seen

typing practice

haiku prompts

after 23 days

I flip my wig

Feb. 24: [the letter] x

we cuddle in sleep
the cats purr

Feb. 25: yellow (must use the word)

yellow rose
golden in my poem
I was eight

Feb. 26: zip

humid evening
at the end of summer
I’ve lost my zip

Feb. 27: bad haiku

His Eyes

his diamond-bright eyes
are giving me gorgeous goose-
bumps when I see them


love is the greatest
power in the universe
it will cure all ills

An Encounter

her dress was yellow
the autumn day was mellow
his eyes smiled hello

Feb. 28: make a ‘generated’ haiku ( from http://www.everypoet.com/haiku/default.htm ) more literary


dreaming plum giggling
tugging bronze unbroken bride
palpitates softly


plum blossoms
cover her in white ...
soft laughter


by the bronze statue
her soft breathing

Feb. 29: leap

stray duck in traffic
I pray
for a flying leap

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