%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |  A poetry journal of everyday clippings |
 "The astonished muse finds thousands at her side."  R. W. Emerson I made this poetry journal because I like to play with words and lines and I wanted to put somewhere some of my practice work (or first draft) in verse, written--within a very short time, probably daily on the spur of the moment, with the idea to work on the entries later--with or without the help of the astonished (should I say shocked?) muse. Some of the haiku I have mixed with senryu, not only because I am not a purist, but also because I like to do what I like to do given what I feel at the moment. |
a lone, wayward boat cuts a line across the sea soured with dense, dark clouds |
wind frolics through trees while weather-vane reels with fear without knowing why |
Through wind-stripped branches timid sun slides in and out pitching scents of spring |
peeling off from clouds like a hidden spring gushing drops charge window panes |
beside spring's saplings hidden away by fairies a snail sleeps in shell |
in autumnal tones pinching a light from the sun asters like candles |
rich smells of balsam streams like dreams through jade pastures still, slender footpath |
no more carefree days on Jay’s Bridge over the creek birds hoping for warmth |
after the thunders half moon writhes under cover wind shoos clouds away |
branches tinged with red budworms are back with vengeance black spruce, the victim |
Winterwind’s tense swirls... Sailing slow like an iceberg, deck flecked with shadows. |
cold wind and lightning vibrating like tuning forks above frozen beach |
goldenrod blossoms living life on high alert along mountain trails  |
A Memory bait-box smells of sea my uncle's oars splash and dash mackerels in pail underneath the wharf dumped from a lobsterman's traps a heap of dead crabs |
mossy granite hides in a cool line of alders small waterfall’s song |
| “And still, after all this time, the Sun has never said to the Earth, "You owe me." Look what happens with love like that. It lights up the sky.” Rumi Your name’s my mantra for love has velocity in endless moments Happy Valentine's Day!  |
Cloud-shadowed ocean. Along the thin line of beach, widening ripples. |
| Two connecting haikus 5-7-5 syllable count Birthday (2/12/1972) Chick out of the egg, a new being once inched in. My sweet handsome son now flexes his fingers and strides to his guitar like a prize fighter. |
Tumbled on its side, bike’s wheel spins. Spokes, catching grass, form an instant wreath. |
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