I am not big on manufactured holidays, but in honor of Daughter’s Day, I repost this haiku, which features my daughter, Lauren in 2011.
Three Rivers Market
Ode to an eggplant,
Locally grown. Daughter holding,
about to take home.
.
.
#haiku #poem #poetry #eggplant #daughter #home #grown #threeriversmarket #bethbooker #laurenbooker #davidebooker #september #092411
Three Rivers Market
Ode to an eggplant,
Locally grown. Daughter holding,
about to take home.
.
.
#haiku #poem #poetry #eggplant #daughter #home #grown #threeriversmarket #bethbooker #laurenbooker #davidebooker #september #092411
Ode to the Spell Check
Eye halve a spelling chequer
It cam with my pea sea
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.
Eye strike a key and type a word
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am wrong oar write
It shows me strait a weigh.
As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee fore two long
And eye can put the error rite
Its rare lea ever wrong.
Eye have run this poem threw it
Filed under Monday morning writing joke
To celebrate the recent publication of his chapbook, a poet walks into a local bar and orders drink and drink and drink, until closing time, when the waitress presents him with the bill.
Inebriated and irritated, the poet looks at the bar tab and yells, “This bill has no rhyme or meter. I refuse to recognize this … this repulsive, wreckage requiring recompense. This is pure assonance!”
He stands up from his table and sloshes toward the door, whereupon he is greeted by the bartender holding a Grecian urn over his head. Staring at the poet, he says, “You will pay what is ode.”
Filed under joke by author, Monday morning writing joke
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