Illusions
Illusions of time: /
tomorrow or the next life? /
Then the night takes me.
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#illusions #time #tomorrow #life #night #me #senryu #haiku #poem #poetry #haiga #photo #september #091425p #092924t #2025 #092925 #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker
Recedes
September sun shines /
ripening late tomatoes /
as the Earth recedes.
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#recedes #september #tomatoes #earth #sun #ripening #haiku #poem #poetry #haiga #photo #oldnorthknoxville #stormhaven #davidebooker #sunday #092825 #2025
Bee
A bee stops by, /
maybe as confused as I. /
No bud here to try.
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#bee #try #I #confused #senryu #haiku #poem #poetry #haiga #photo #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #september #saturday #092725 #2025
Reflection
Images appear /
as I stare at the window. /
All are moment’s past /
carried through time by a light /
empty of your memory.
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#reflection #tanka #window #past #images #time #light #memory #poem #poetry #knoxville #davidebooker #september #friday #091622 #2022 #haiga #photo
Fall
Stretched out and relaxed, /
cat lies across the railing, /
empty as the fall.
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#empty #fall #cat #railing #relaxed #haiku #poem #poetry #haiga #photo #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #september #friday #2025 #092625
Eyes
From the dark, eyes peer /
into the rising, warm day. /
Questions fall like leaves.
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#fall #leaves #eyes #questions #day #photo #poem #poetry #haiku #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #september #wednesday #092122 #2022 #haiga
Others
Sartre once said /
Hell was other people. /
He was not alone.
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#others #hell #sartre #people #haiku #poem #poetry #haiga #photo #knoxville #davidebooker #081823t #septemper #wednesday #092425 #2025
Filed under 2025, haiku, photo, Photo by author, photo by David E. Booker, poem, poet, poetry, poetry by author, Poetry by David E. Booker
Transition
Leaves cluster below /
driven earthward by fall rain. /
Crowning the cool ground.
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#transition #leaves #cluster #fall #rain #ground #earthward #haiku #poem #poetry #haiga #photo #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #september #tuesday #092325 #2025
Oh, Monday.
Oooh, Monday.
Oooh, Moonday.
Oooh, Moanday.
You come and you slay me.
Sunday is not done,
Not gone with the setting sun,
But there you are once more
Scavenging at my door.
A beggar with a broken smile.
You promise to be for only a while,
But your 24-hours pass
As if the sands stuck in the hourglass.
Oh, Monday.
Oooh, Monday.
Oooh, Moonday.
Oooh, Moanday.
You come and you play me.
I fall for your tattered lines.
I hope ruthlessly for the sublime.
But, Moanday, you are there,
A rumbled love I no longer share.
You once held such promise,
But now you are always upon us.
Hanging low over the weekend,
Always about to offend.
Oh, Monday.
Ooh, oooh, sad Monday.
I go to bed and sigh
As I wave the weekend goodbye.
Ooh, oooh, Moonday.
Ooh, oooh, Moanday.
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#davidebooker #Monday, poem #poetry #humor #september #photonotmine #092225 #2025
Filed under 2025, humor, photo, poem, poet, poetry, poetry by author, Poetry by David E. Booker
Unread
Fortune, no fortune /
no future in my cookie /
my cookie unread.
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#unread #fortune #future #cookie #my #unread #poem #poetry #haiga #haike #photo #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #stormhaven #september #sunday #092125 #2025
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