If my lover were /
Sunday, passion’s radiance /
would subsume heaven.
If my lover were /
Sunday, passion’s radiance /
would subsume heaven.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
O’ triskaidekaphobia —
don’t let it annoy ya —
your paranoia,
your frightened mind.
This triskaidekaphobia,
it will destroy ya,
I do implore ya,
your fear it will find.
Yes, triskaidekaphobia,
it will toy with ya,
and even enjoy with ya
superstition sublime.
Said triskaidekaphobia,
“I don’t want to bore ya,
but I’ll take Peoria,
at twelve Central time.”
Came triskaidekaphobia,
by way of Astoria
thirteen more than ya
hoped you could confine.
But triskaidekaphobia
was unlucky ya know ya
and took the thirteenth floor ya
and then fell to its decline.
Of triskaidekaphobia,
I’ll say no more to ya
because history will show to ya
that it will all intertwine.
Filed under Photo Finish Friday, poetry by author
If my lover were /
Saturday, dabbled sunshine /
would sing from my lips.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
If Thursday were my /
lover, I’d embrace her stars /
with my empty eyes.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
If Wednesday were my /
lover, I’d carry her dew /
on my lips as hope.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author

A neighborhood child asked to pose for a photo before going to his first day of first grade, decided to “Jaws” the camera as his mother, in vain, attempted to capture his good side. But, wait, maybe she did.
by DAVID E. BOOKER
Molar, molar
will destroy ya.
Eat your toys
I will annoy ya.
Molar, molar
I’m your boy, yo
Cast you about
to and fro, yo.
Molar, molar
where’d you go? Oh
I ate a fat crow
and now you know, oh
little’s bros a go
for eattin’ so slow, oh.
Molar, molar
will destroy ya.
Filed under Photo Finish Friday, poetry by author
If Tuesday were my /
lover, I’d breathe deep its scents, /
imbibing moments.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
If Monday were my /
lover, I’d caress its clouds /
and dabble in light.
[Writer’s note: This is the first in a series of haiku involving the days of week. It may work out; it may only work out somewhat; it may not work out at all. Only way to find out and read them as they appear and decide.]
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Bones along the road /
speak of Passion’s empty end. /
Still, I long for you.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Love puts forth a leaf. /
In my garden of desire /
the snake has purpose.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author