My effort for the Ronovan Haiku Challenge 330: COLD and Fall
Under the Weather
That terrible cold;
sneezing and his nose running
like a waterfall.
Category: Licks
Between the Cracks
Between the Cracks - A Decima
A northern autumn. There's no light
to show where land and sky should meet.
The midday sun, beneath our feet,
impersonates a moonless night
where we fight off ideas of fright,
fear of darkness, what it will mean
to fall into the cracks between
the things we think we know and those
tempting treats that we somehow chose
to shun, that trick of Halloween.
The Fates
The Fates - A Decima
Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos,
they spin, they weave and thus create
Ancient Grecian Laws of Fate,
the mythos of all gain and loss.
Their Mum, Ananke, Dad, Chronos,
sired these adolescent spinners
crafting for the good (and sinners)
lies of self determination,
camouflaged predestination.
They fete not losers nor winners.
Weed and Dust
Ronovan Haiku Challenge: Prompts – Weed and Dust
Haiku - Weed and Dust The symbol was clear: a perfect ellipse where I had weed in the dust.
Hibernation
Hibernation
The garden is sodden now,
these days of rain creating
pools our boots splash in.
I see you watching the falling
rain from our bedroom window.
The electric blanket's on.
Perhaps we'll winter here.
Drip and Drop
Ronovan Haiku Challenge: Prompts – Drip and Drop
Drop and Drop The constant drip, drip, drip of misinformation makes me scream...DROP DEAD!
What It’s Not and What It Is
What It's Not and What It Is
It's not the sun that rises.
It's not the moon that sets.
It's not the stars all tipping
On towards the West.
It's not the blackbird singing.
It's not the howling dog.
It's not the fox attempting
Cartwheels in the fog.
It is the darkness looming.
It is the passing sense.
It is the abolition
Of the present tense.
Portent (ii)
Portent (ii)
Well, I was in the shop
getting things for tea;
when checking out
I realised
I didn't have
the means to pay with me.
I left the shopping there
and, quick as I was able,
walked back
to the flat
and there it was,
my wallet on the table.
The Storm
My contribution to the Prompt 25, Haiku and Decima Challenge posted by Ronovan. Cheers.
Haiku
We notice how warm
it becomes before the storm,
yet you wait, poised, calm.
The Storm - A Decima
Across the sea there is a storm
approaching. We see the rain fall
distantly, will hit as a squall
quite soon. The dark clouds start to form
demonic shapes beyond the norm,
beyond our usual reckoning.
We see a light that's beckoning
us into safe harbour until
the storm blows out, the air is still,
we drink to what the seasons bring.
Reservation
Reservation It's Friday in the pub. There's a notice on the table, "Reserved: 6.30: Butters". And amid the hubbub I hear a comment thus, "Them? Fucking nutters!"
Poems, Polemicks and Licks 