Life
Mushrooms grow on death, /
turning a lifeless tree trunk /
Into life support.
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#life #mushrooms #tree #trunk #death #haiku #poem #poetry #photo #davidebooker #oldnorthknoxville #february #wednesday #022322 #2022
Tag Archives: death
Haiku and photo: “Withered bouquet”
Withered bouquet
Withered, the hang. Brown /
cenotaphs of somewhere. Death’s /
sunflower bouquet.
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#cenotaph #bouquet #sunflower #death #withered #haiku #poem #poetry #photo #davidebooker #oldnorthknoxville #november #wednesday #2021 #112421
Haiku and photo: “Morning cool”
Morning cool
In the morning cool, /
on the feet of fall insects /
Death enters softly.
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#haiku #poem #poetry #september #death #tuesday #2020 #insects #gourd #fall #photooftheday #morning #cool #oldnorthknoxville #knoxville #tennessee #davidebooker
092220
Filed under 2020, haiku, photo, photo by David E. Booker, poetry, Poetry by David E. Booker
Haiku and poem: “Patterns”
Patterns
“Wings,” said Icarus.
“Freedom,” offered Daedalus.
“Death,” decreed the Sun.
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#haiku #poem #poetry #wings #freedom #death #Icarus #Daedalus #sun #photo #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #august #wednesday #2021
Filed under 2021, haiku, photo by David E. Booker, Poetry by David E. Booker
Haiku and photo: “Death and the flower”
Death and the flower
Work done, beauty made. /
To rest in summer’s wonder. /
Death and the flower.
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#haiku #poem #poetry #oldnorthknoxville #flower #bee #summer #photooftheday #davidebooker #knoxville #tennessee
081020
Haiku and photo: “Leaf”
Leaf
Return to the Earth /
All that was once bright and green. /
Death nibbles at noon.
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#haiku #poem #poetry #death #nibbles #noon #green #flower #bright #photo #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #august #sunday #2021
“The Glade”
The Glade
Yes, the irony /
Is clear to me /
How you define being brave. /
If it can be done /
With your gun, /
Then my life can’t be saved. /
But wear a mask /
A simple task /
And you holy rant and rave. /
Over your dead body, /
And this said hotly, /
You to the world vouchsafe. /
Your creed is clear. /
It is death you hold dear, /
A charging bull in the glade. /
For another’s life /
No sacrifice /
Can ever or today be made. /
Compassion has died, /
Empathy hied, /
But with your gun you’re brave. /
You’re cold, dead hands /
Stretch across this land, /
But there is nothing to save. /
That shot in your arm /
You feared would cause you harm, /
Has no hope for you today. /
You’re the Bull Without the Mask /
And your soul’s task /
Is to drive life forever from the glade.
080121
Filed under 2021, guns, poem, Poetry by David E. Booker, rhyming poetry
Photo finish Friday (and haiku): “Loser’s Hand-me-downs”
Women are trouble: /
Men are Loser’s Hand-me-downs; /
Death smiles so sweetly.
Photo finish Friday (and haiku): “End”
Collapse, decay, end: /
dissolving into its death. /
Fungus finds a home.
Monday (morning) writing joke: “Three writers died”
Three writers died, but were brought back to life. They met up one evening to discuss their experiences.
The first writer said: “I died and there was nothing. No light. No sound. I just sort of floated above my body in a limbo state.”
The second writer said: “I died and there was a bright white light, soft voices calling me, and a slight rustling sound like new leaves in a soft Spring breeze. I didn’t want to come back.”
The third writer nodded and said: “I, too, felt a blankness, except mine was white. There was a rustling sound to it. And there was a voice calling to me. It was my editor shaking blank pages at my face, telling me I owed him another 30,000 words.”
Filed under 2016, joke by author, Monday morning writing joke
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