Wednesday, February 29, 2012

NaHaiWriMo 2012 Week Four

Feb. 22: vent

cool morning air
through the open door
magpies calling


February 23: Today's writing prompt is to write mischievously about a cross-eyed paleontologist studying a one-legged rhinoceros beetle nibbling an Egyptian mummy’s shoulder blade during the summer solstice on Mars, and be sure to refer to a mega-hard Sudoku puzzle, torn Monopoly money, and a vampire, plus a Mongolian-speaking Nobel prize-winner who dances polkas whenever he hears “Moves Like Jagger” on bagpipes or the Macarena song performed on an out-of-tune Northumbrian squeezebox underwater. And be sure to type in your poem with your nose while singing a Broadway show tune, since you should now have plenty of practice at doing exactly that. Anything less and I shall be supremely disappointed. Just kidding. Again. Instead, write about . . . a wig.

on Mars

summer solstice

red-hot



cross, I

watch rhino beetles

unwrap Mummy



crosswords please

not Sudoko numbers

too cryptic



blood money

vampires tear into

Monopoly



Obama now

moves like Jagger

dancing underwater



peace prize winner

out of tune with the people

faces new battles



the squeeze is felt

in Outer Mongolia

Pandora’s box



bagpipes

or Macarena ...

let’s just polka



nobody knows

the trouble I’ve seen

typing practice



haiku prompts

after 23 days

I flip my wig


Feb. 24: [the letter] x

exhausted
we cuddle in sleep
the cats purr


Feb. 25: yellow (must use the word)

yellow rose
golden in my poem
I was eight


Feb. 26: zip

humid evening
at the end of summer
I’ve lost my zip


Feb. 27: bad haiku


His Eyes

his diamond-bright eyes
are giving me gorgeous goose-
bumps when I see them


Love

love is the greatest
power in the universe
it will cure all ills


An Encounter

her dress was yellow
the autumn day was mellow
his eyes smiled hello


Feb. 28: make a ‘generated’ haiku ( from http://www.everypoet.com/haiku/default.htm ) more literary

original:

dreaming plum giggling
tugging bronze unbroken bride
palpitates softly

mine:

plum blossoms
cover her in white ...
soft laughter

**********

asleep
by the bronze statue
her soft breathing


Feb. 29: leap

stray duck in traffic
I pray
for a flying leap

NaHaiWriMo 2012 Week Three

Feb. 15: opera

never heard
that performance we missed
I don’t forgive


Feb 16: pool

new acquaintance
neighbour with swimming-pool
instant best friend


Feb. 17: queue

crossing our legs
too few cubicles
penis envy


Feb.18: rattle

in my Melbourne
the old red rattlers
went the distance


Feb. 19: sandal

a lone sandal shuffles in the tide


Feb. 20: talus

the hill
in the big rain
falls downhill



Feb. 21: umbrella

useless
my umbrella
in the wind

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

NaHaiWriMo 2012 Week Two


Feb. 8: hat

my sun-hat
hangs on the doorknob
summer rain



Feb. 9: ice

except in drinks
I don’t see ice any more
I’m glad to say



Feb. 10: jam

jam tomorrow
adds extra flavour
to pie in the sky



Feb. 11: kitchen

noisy cats
prowling the kitchen
plead starvation



Feb. 12: laundry

rain again
chairs and door handles
dripping cloth



Feb. 13: mountain(s)

on my wall Roland
painted by my late father
my old favourite

I walk out my gate
turn and greet our guardian
friendly Warning



Feb. 14: nachos

ah! Tex-Mex
the flavour of Austin
remembered

Monday, February 6, 2012

NaHaiWriMo 2012 Week One

February is National Haiku Writing Month — except it's international — hosted on facebook, with prompts, by Michael Dylan Welch.

Feb. 1: apple

one bite
out of the apple
squirts juice


Feb. 2: boat

moored
three masts
moonlit


Feb 3: catfish

I cannot catch
the unseen catfish
in verse


Feb. 4: any kind of dog.

small timberwolf
self-possessed as a cat
I still miss you


Feb. 5: egg

eating the unborn
I prefer brown skins
in eggs as in men


Feb. 6: frame

only at the joints
of this expansive structure
we see the fine bones


Feb 7: grief

reports of her death
greatly exaggerated
grief instantly cured

(details of 7)