haiku for engineers

1

crank the blackened wheel
steel and grease and steel and grease
the steam-driven thing


2

under a tall hat
isambard kingdom brunel
smokes a fat cigar


3

open plan office
how did it come to this?
white collar factory

poetsday

The minutiae of Life & the two minute poem


sweet words

to see you stack those sweet words
like sugar lumps arranged on
the table-top at Lyon's
i hold the hot mug to my lips
afraid something might escape
while you offered such sweet words
and me being diabetic.

sci-ku

1

temporal shifting
pour the hot kettle of time
down nasty wormholes


2

daleks meet the borg
to compliment each other
in perfect english


3

i looked for myself
a parallel universe
but i was not there

haiku for small critters

1

little captive bird
singing for everyone's joy
not through happiness


2

wing-mirror spider
travelling forty miles and back
too fast for dinner


3

ephemeral fly
where do daddy-long-legs live
outside september

cooking haiku

1

a curious thing
who ate the second chili
was it for a bet?


2

vegetarians
best give them peas, potatoes
beans, and stuff like that


3

we dined alfresco
walking home with fish and chips
wrapped in newspaper

poetsday

The minutiae of Life & the two minute poem


1

bob and len discuss poetry

leonard said hallelujah!
it took ten years to write
aghast, bob's watchtower-
all along it took, well
barely half an hour.
the two men mused long
and finally, silently
bid each other good day.
so, when you say where
do i see my poetry lie
on the cohen-dylan spectrum
i reply, oh, definitely
in the infra-read.

2

clemency

when you think about it
the only option left is
to learn to love the rain.
is it not like us - mainly water?
but only opposites attract
it's an apposite fact
that we hate the rain because
it reminds us of ourselves:
living wet on the water's
edge, slipping on sopping socks
so, shoes get holes sometimes!
yet you can still walk the
farthest in your oldest pair.

Thanks to Michelle for correcting my original clunk ending. :o)

as a footnote, do you know that nearly all these efforts end up as 13 liners. now i'm not superstitious but i could be suspicious that the number has some unconscious significance or, possibly, a natural rhythm only in-tune with myself. is it wrong? is it okay? these are the questions i need to answer right now.

poetsday

The minutiae of Life & the two minute poem


1

if i come up too fast i'll only get the bends

here i am bottom-feeding
scouring the depths of my soul
no bathysphere to contain me
breathing pure oh-two


2

time travel is entirely possible

from an old photograph
the light in your eyes is
closer to me than any distance
could be from here to reality

if I would reach back now
and step into the frame
I could save you from mortality
and secure you in simplicity

poetry thursday prompt

also Poetsday: The minutiae of Life & the two minute poem


the bleeding apple

the bleeding apple bled
its bleeding juice down my shirt
i bit and it squirted a tiny spurt
down the front and there it pooled
like a weeping nipple, only apple not milk
spreading over my favourite silk shirt
and it hurts. fructose-lactose
it doesn't matter once sticky
turns your dicky to schmatter.


this is a two minute poem for the poetry thursday prompt: to write in the style of someone else. i was literally chewing a crisp apple while reading the prompt and it did end up on my shirt. i'm not worried as its a work shirt - but what if it hadn't have been?

i tried to think what John Hegley would have said but I'm not John Hegley, he's a bleeding poet and I'm a bleeding nobody really - so, two minutes is about all it's worth! enjoy.

poetsday

The minutiae of Life & the two minute poem


mambo for claustrophobe

don't hold so close!, she said
as we turned into vacant space
these ever increasing circles
avoiding others like the plague
i want to dance under a moonlit sky
in an open field so i can feel
my feet chassé along the dew
but not with you, she said. alone,
a mambo for one, so i left her
in the centre of the floor and
before switching off the lights
reminded her emphatically
in 4/4 time: to remember
to put the cat out when she leaves.

poetsday

The minutiae of Life & the two minute poem


mouse

my mouse does not move; i tried coaxing it
revolving its little wheel, tapping
its red bottom gently - then much harder
still. it does not move; not even a twitch.

the IT man explains to me kindly
how mouses have a tendency to die
so, removing the corps, he buries it
in a dog-eared box without ceremony
in a graveyard at the foot of the stairs.

we must hang onto civilization
or what will the future make of us
and our multitude of little mass graves.

it's about time!

1

sixty minutes drip
the hour pooling at my feet
slipping on wet socks


2

the town hall clock stopped
eleven twenty-seven
late lunch in sheep street


3

pendulum motion
oscillating metronome
perpetual swing


(requested by !AN ROW @ HotCrossHaiku)

poetry thursday prompt

the Holism of White Light

In the absence of green and red
We get blue. Green like the fallow
Fields sweeping past the window while
I daydream: I shall abandon
This tiresome vehicle, hard-shouldered
Then lose myself in such cool grass.
And Red, the rising blood and anger
Which, one day, will push me to it.

poetsday

The minutiae of Life & the two minute poem

composting

you are organic
i am more bob the builder
can we fix it?

you are organised
while i seem just chaotic
lost amongst the words

inspiration from a poem by becoming amethyst.

continuing the idea of the two-minute poem; words tumble and must be gathered up, like panning for gold - often you just get the dirt but you'll never know this before you gather it up.