daft haiku

Perhaps if I get this down, it will stop rattling around my mind!

Hats and gloves and socks -

soon be time to change the clocks...

autumn equinox!

autumn haiku

Overhead the birds

sensing the restless winds, know

that it's time to go

The Right to Roam?

From the Guardian, an extract which amused me ... 

"It's a diabolical liberty" Peter Glossop said, as he walked his labradors, Purdy and Bumble in the park

And my, tongue-in-cheek, version, in haiku...

'Purdy and Bumble,

diabolically free,

exercising their rights'

Pantoum...

Yesterday I went to a Yoga and Writing afternoon, which necessitated Leaving the County - just.

It was nice to meet a couple of new people and do some fairly gentle somatic exploration. And some wild-writing exercises ...

At the end of which we turned some of our phrases into a random sort of poem, loosely based on the structure of a 15C Malaysian form, called a Pantoum.

Except mine wasn't, of course. Because I had, by accident, already started to make a poem of my phrases...

Which was CHEATING.

But here is the result, anyway:

Autumn Leaves

So shall I die

thus upon the earth

will I lie

soft under a blanket

Thus upon the earth

will they play good music

soft under a blanket

red and green and gold

Will they play good music

back to the earth and sky and sea

red and green and gold

send me dancing on my way

Back to the earth and sky and sea

and shall I lie

send me dancing on my way

so shall I die

September haikus

Warm September scent -

blackb'rries, ferns and just a hint

of chamomile tea

childhood sonnet, for RB

This was a hard one...writing a proper Shakespearean sonnet - iambic pentameters, trad rhyming scheme, 'turn' after line eight 'n' all that. All based on a childhood incident. 

This has taken a few days and I'm not happy with it...I found following the form,  particularly the rhyme, meant losing any poetry at all...

Still, here it is, for what it's worth...

His hair was greasy and his nails were black,

His legs were spindly and he wasn't tall,

A threadbare blazer and an ancient mac,

We called him names, the oddest boy of all.

He played his part of course - the classroom clown,

Sucked up to teachers, always good in school,

And in the playground ran and ran around,

Spoke like a robot, acted like a fool.

We followed him with laughter, unprepared

To see the child behind the mask it seems 

For no-one told us it was strong to care,

We carry guilt, he haunts my sometime dreams.

Children are cruel, and crueller still those days -

And he who calls the tune one day the piper pays...

September haikus

Sea-stormy morning

dark blues and grey foreboding

seagull's cry warning