Yesteryear or now /
Wind driven or motorized /
Welcome to your home.
Category Archives: Poetry by David E. Booker
Haiku to you Thursday: “New Hope”
Yesteryear or now /
Wind driven or motorized /
Welcome to your home.
Monday morning writing joke: “Writer from St. Paul”
There once was a writer from St. Paul
Who could only write well in the fall.
With the leaves off the trees
She saw her neighbors with ease.
And then she could record it all.
Photo finish Friday (and haiku): “See me”
My beauty is now /
In this moment, at this place. /
See me; see yourself.
.
.
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Haiku to you Thursday: “Never ending”
You can have it all. /
Except not at the same time. /
The truth never ends.
Filed under 2020, Haiku to You Thursday, Poetry by David E. Booker
Monday morning writing joke: “Writer from Maine”
There once was a writer from Maine
Whom everybody thought was insane.
He wrote big books on evil
and owned pet boll weevil.
No one could cotton to him or complain.
Haiku to you Thursday: “Whisper”
Summer’s verdant leaves /
Whisper to the shaggy grass: /
Birds love us the best.
Filed under 2020, Haiku to You Thursday, Poetry by David E. Booker
Monday morning writing joke: “Never alone”
There once was a writer named Stone
Who tried writing on his smart phone.
It started off fine
But then he got behind:
All the apps wouldn’t leave him alone.
Photo finish Friday: “Tudoring”
The reign in Splain Falls /
manely on the plane. /
And what misses goes down in Seine. /
I cried a river when you road the train. /
Me heart aorta be of a tougher strain. /
The reign in Splain Falls /
manely on the plane. /
It splatters against the window, /
but I feel no pane.
Filed under 2020, Photo Finish Friday, Poetry by David E. Booker
Haiku to you Thursday: “Tears of joy”
Love’s an empty town /
With only the clown around /
Tears of joy greet you.
Filed under 2020, Haiku to You Thursday, Poetry by David E. Booker
Monday morning writing joke: “Writer from Memph-is”
There once was a writer from Memph-is
Whose poetry was all full of guess-is
About the nature of sex.
Was it a blessing or a hex?
And if all things were bigger in Tex-is.
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