The sun in your smile
makes a moon of the moments
I think about you.
[Editor’s note: due to the power being out several times for several hours each time in the past couple of days due to power line repair, what I had planned to post is being postponed. Instead, you will be treated to a little more haiku poetry.]
Filed under haiku, poem, poetry by author, Upon reflection
The haiku that prompted may haiku “Whispers” Call it haiku call and response.
Filed under Uncategorized
Winds whisper your name; /
the letters catch on the grass; /
tears rain on the earth.
Filed under haiku, poem, poetry by author, Whispers
Some days, the yoke of friendship runs true; other days, it just runs yellow.
Grounded stars imbued with a foggy night.
Suntanned pieces of wind-tilted technology.
Saluting Souvenirs of transience: Billboards.
A toothpick-bearded hitchhiker saunters from a
Detroit-styled digestive supplier.
Straddles the roadside.
The smoke curls and cocoons in the corners of his
Well-traveled eyes.
His past:
Grounded stars imbued in a foggy night.
His future:
Suntanned pieces of wind-tilted technology.
Saluting Souvenirs of transience:
Billboards.
Filed under Billboards, poem, poetry by author
New word for consideration in the next release of the Oxford English Dictionary or Webster’s Dictionary, or even the old tattered-edge dictionary your grandma uses to hold open the screen door.
New word:
Obsurd. This word is combination of:
Obscure: inconspicuous or unnoticeable. Maybe indistinct to the sight or any of the other senses; not easily felt, heard, seen, etc.
and
Absurd: obviously senseless or existing in an irrational or meaningless world.
So, Obsurd, n. inconspicuous or unnoticed senselessness. Sometimes also referred to as obsurdity, as in the obsurdity of life.
To use in context: As Henry David Thoreau said: The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.
Modern corollary: The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation, toiling endlessly and in obsurdity.
Or, go forth and do obsurd things.
Filed under words, Words to live by
Writer’s Time Machine: /
Errors fixed as they appear. /
Editor dyes dies sad.
Filed under haiku, poem, poetry by author, writer's time machine
Worlds in Wonder mourn. /
A comet lights heaven’s void. /
A writer comes home.
In memory of Ray Bradbury, Aug. 22, 1920 – June 6, 2012
Filed under haiku, poetry by author, Ray Bradbury
Writing, to me, is simply thinking through my fingers. –Isaac Asimov
You must stay drunk on writing, so reality doesn’t destroy you. –Ray Bradbury
Filed under writing quotes
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