
Life
Each life is lived /
in the uncertainty of /
the hour of its death.
.
.
#life #death #uncertainty #hour #photo #poem #poetry #haiku #senryu #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #august #thursday #081723 #2023

Life
Each life is lived /
in the uncertainty of /
the hour of its death.
.
.
#life #death #uncertainty #hour #photo #poem #poetry #haiku #senryu #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #august #thursday #081723 #2023

Golden hour
Softened by evening, /
the earth has its golden hour. /
Sun kisses lightly.
.
.
#sun #golden_hour #lightly #evening #earth #poem #poetry #haiku #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #may #monday #050222 #2022

Reflection
Do we fret and strut /
Our hour upon the stage then /
Leave unreflected?
.
.
#poem #haiku #davidebooker #poet #poetry #write #writer #writing #reflection #unreflected #stage #strut #fret #stage #062619 #2019
Filed under 2019, haiku, photo, photo by David E. Booker, poem, poetry, Poetry by David E. Booker
The afternoon creeps, /
Each minute an hour high /
Piled with things not done.
Filed under 2015, Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Dear Congress,
I want my hour back.
The one you stole from me
To take up all the slack
Of saving energy.
A supercilious stance
Of the previous administration
Is giving me morning headaches
And hours of constipation.
Spring has not yet sprung
But an “extra” hour blooms
We’re supposed to use less fossil fuels
But you were a fool to assume.
You now fight over light bulbs
Some invoking “my right to chose.”
Yet, when robbing me of one hour,
You said I had nothing to lose.
There is no proof this hour
Is saving the country power.
I get up in the night, turn on several lights
As I make my way to the shower.
I use more electricity
As I start each day of work
All because you fell asleep
And forgot to think. What jerks.
You pander to the lobbyist
And engage in high mediocrity.
All the time wasting hours
On political pomposity.
By making daylight longer.
As I’m driving more for less
On gas I’ve forced to squander
While you show little or no regrets.
I’m losing sleep because I cannot be
Awake while the sun still shines
But with a jerk, the hour to start work
Finds me ever more behind.
I want my hour back.
The one you stole from me
And do not counterattack
With your light bulb skullduggery.
Even though my eyes are bleary
And my outlook a bit less cheery
I can still see quite clearly
And let you know sincerely:
I want my hour back.
The one you stole from me
To take up all the slack
Of saving energy.
Filed under Cartoon, heist, humor, poem, poetry, political humor, politicians, satire, story poem, theater of the absurd