Tag Archives: poem

Haiku to you Thursday: “Whispers”

Wind whispers your name /

syllables ring with the chimes /

sweet, melodic hope.

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Haiku to you Thursday: “Early Riser”

Light flows from windows. /

Early riser greets no one; /

Sun is late – again.

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Haiku to you Thursday: “New old”

A new year beckons /

Our chance to begin again /

wearing our old scars.

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New Year’s Eve & Me

[Editor’s note: we interrupt the regularly scheduled Haiku to you to present this bit of rhyming poetry for the new year.]

by David E. Booker

New Year’s Eve and me

Aggrieved I must be

Because you won’t hear my plea

And let me be free.

Be free on this last day

This last day I must here stay

Trying to “make hay”

While others are out to play

Out to play and party

I must be here and be not tardy

I must work and be not lardy.

O’ why am I so dumb and not a smarty?

Not a smarty and be not free

Not free and here I must be

Must be here, being me,

Being me, being me, o’ woe is me

The not-so-life of the not-free party.

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Throw up

by David E. Booker

I throw up for no good reason:
any time and any season.
A piece of lint is in the air.
It floated up from my underwear.
It is there now; it frightened me.
I’ll either throw up or go pee pee.
I can see now my sensitive ways
cause my parents problems many days.
When we travel for hours in a car
they have wonder just how far
we can go before I begin
to say, “I’m sensitive to throwing up again.”
I take a deep breath and feel the bile.
Has it only been a little while?
My older brother sits next to me.
He hopes I’ll hurl on my DVD.
We still have many miles to go
but I don’t have that much self-control.
A bug goes SPLAT against the window.
I can feel my tummy start to billow.
That bug’s guts are the color
of what I’ll throw up from my supper.
I throw up for no good reason:
any time and any season.
Even when I feel I’m okay,
my stomach throws up just like I say.

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Haiku to you Thursday: “Stubble”

Hard against life’s past /

old headstones, dead crops winter. /

Stubble knots dark ground.

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Haiku to you Thursday: “Hero”

There are no heroes — /

then I see you with Lauren /

and I know better.

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cARtOONSDAY: “bEWARE OF THE eLF”

It's the little things at Christmas that often get to you the most.

It’s the little things at Christmas that often get to you the most.

All that sweetness and light
can give you such a fright.
Sneaking over to your bed
to stab you before daylight.

So when you go to bed
don’t turn your little head.
For that elf on the shelf
will make sure you wake up dead.

Then a zombie you will be
lumbering ’round the Christmas tree
searching for some brains
or other presents not meant for thee.

O’ beware that elf on the shelf!
He’s just all about himself.
He’s sweetly, creepy insane
and out to ruin your health.

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Haiku to you Thursday: “Twigs”

Divided by hours /

days gather sticks of minutes /

and twigs each second.

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Haiku to you Thursday: “Brain drain”

Faculty perplexed. /

One hundred human brains gone! /

Deemed a thoughtless heist.

******
The above poem was inspired by an actual event. Details below.
******

100 Human Brains Mysteriously Disappear From Texas Campus

by Jay Strubberg

5:02 AM, Dec 3, 2014

http://sharing.knoxnews.com/sharescnn/photo/2014/12/03/1417599389_10332419_ver1.0_640_480.jpg

Where did they go? About 100 jars containing preserved human brains have disappeared from The University of Texas at Austin, and no one knows where they went.

According to the Austin American-Statesman, Austin State Hospital transferred a collection of 200 formaldehyde-soaked brains to UT about 28 years ago, but half the lot has up and vanished with little clues as to where they might be.

One UT professor told the outlet, “We think somebody may have taken the brains, but we don’t know at all for sure.”

Of the missing brains, one belongs to Charles Whitman, who went on a sniper rampage at UT in 1966 and killed 16 people, in what is considered one of the deadliest campus shootings in the past fifty years. (Video via Discovery Channel)

“When Charles Whitman was shot they found a note and in that note he asked that his brain be left to science and looked by the pathologist to find out if there was something wrong with him.”

And NPR also says that pathologist turned out to be the same guy “who put the collection together in the first place.” Still, knowing that doesn’t really leave a lot of clues for the Sherlock Holmes wannabes out there. But the story gets more intriguing.

According to a 1986 Houston Chronicle report cited in The Atlantic, there was a bit of a tug-of-war for the collection between UT, Harvard and other colleges in what was labeled “the battle for the brains” — we kid you not.

Aside from that clue, the brains whereabouts are pretty much anyone’s guess at this point, though there’s certainly plenty of creative ideas out there floating through social media on where they might be.

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