Filed under 2021, Monday morning writing joke
Riding home
Nostalgia dreaming: /
Brontosaurus pedals bike. /
Whimsy fills my breath.
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#haiku #poem #poetry #photo #brontosaurus #bike #nostalgia #whimsy #dreaming #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #august #monday #2021
Evening
Evening summer starts /
Sunlight shadows sunflowers. /
Cicadas sing dusk.
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#poem #poetry #haiku #cicadas #summer #sunflower #evening #sunlight #davidebooker #oldnorthknoxville #august #monday #2021
The once was a writer with a bucket,
Who threw his drafts in it, because they “suck it.”
One day a thief came by
And with his bucket she did hie.
Now she has a bestseller. O’ the luck of it.
The Oldies
Yep. You’ve joined music history. /
The years may have been a mystery /
Tour through your youth /
Those awkward days of uncouth /
Where nothing you could say /
Would make the world go your way. /
Then the adult years came onset /
Full of hopes and some regrets, /
But your dreams lingered on /
Back by a three-chord song. /
Now the dreams have faded, /
A little tattered and debated, /
Then a song comes along, /
From your youth where it belongs, /
And it takes you back /
To those hopes gone slack. /
And you think, once again, /
It’s not too late to begin again. /
The melody comes your way /
Takes you back to halcyon days. /
But then that new technology /
Slaps you into where you ought to be. /
The dial face say the song is an Oldie. /
It spells it plainly and not boldly. /
You say, No, this can’t be so. /
Of the future you won’t let go. /
Oh no, oh no, oh no! /
You listen to the song /
That favorite tune that brought you along /
Through your youth uncouth /
Then into your adult truth. /
You listen again to the tune, /
Spot a star to the left of the Moon, /
And once more your dreams unfurl /
From the corner of your heart where they lay curled. /
To boldly go and now you won’t stop. /
To the moon is only the first hop. /
Then the song reaches its end /
And the night further sets in. /
The crickets chirp; the sirens wail /
And your dreams seem a bit stale. /
You fold them up and take them in /
And hope The Oldies come again. /
It may not now be like was /
And time has taken what it does, /
But you still feel the ancient fires /
And until the day the light expires, /
You will be now as you were then: /
Striving, seeking, finding, and not giving in.
072621
Filed under 2021, Poetry by David E. Booker
Borderland
Flag hangs in stillness. /
Rain falls into its murmur. /
Wet dirge or rebirth?
071921
There once was a writer from Montana,
Who always ate a morning banana.
Then one day he ran out.
He wailed an ugly shout:
“Writing’s lost is appeal and manna.”
Rain
Flowers splashed with rain. /
Drops linger in the garden. /
Blooms and beauty served.
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#haiku #poem #poetry #blooms #beauty #flowers #rain #drops #garden #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #photoftheday #poemoftheday #july #monday #2021
071221
Back down
Back down to the floor. /
Heart upward toward the ceiling. /
Belly scratch ready.
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#haiku #poem #poetry #belly #heart #back #floor #ceiling #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #photooftheday #poemoftheday #july #monday #2021
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