Tuesday, July 12

Wonder Where I Put My Brain




















Wonder where I put my brain
did I leave it on the plane
flying from kalamazoo?
although I've got my canoe
luggage that I always take
did I drop it in the lake
as I fled alligators?
didn't see those in brochure
on a train or in a car
I sure hope my brain's not far
did it roll under the bed
as I sat and scratched my head?
silly me, I'm rather dull
my brain is still inside my skull.

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Monday, July 11

I Didn't Do It

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I didn't do it, it must have been
my sister, I know she did it
oh, well, she's taking a nap?
then it fell over by
itself, yes, that's it
what would happen
if maybe
it was
me?

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At First

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At first, he commanded a tractor
then he squished things with steamrollers
now he controls the force and
wields a blue lightsaber
whatsoever your
occupation
I'll always
love you
son

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Written for One Stop Poetry's Form Monday.

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Tuesday, July 5

Claire, It's Unfair






































Claire! it's unfair
your foolish dare
my rocking chair
has grizzly bear
with dreadful glare
for he does share
with polar bear
whose awful stare
could light a flare
I do declare
now they're aware
of my spare pear
in earthenware
I doubt they'll share
my rocking chair
or luscious pear
or rare cookware
I'm in despair
shoo bears elsewhere
where is their lair?
should send them there
oh no, I swear!
my sweater spare
will surely tear
beyond repair
a real nightmare!

never mind claire
no longer scared
breath of fresh air
out of my hair
whew! I don't care
claire, that's your chair.

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Posted to One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry.

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Friday, July 1

That's a Lot of Haiku!

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I have now posted 50 pages with 9 haiku each.  A year ago I didn't know I had fifty haiku in me, let alone four hundred and fifty.  I probably have about twice that that I haven't posted, because quite frankly, they are terrible.  I aim to only share what I consider my best work here.  Every artist has practice pieces, and poets are no exception.

A couple months back I read an article decrying non-traditional haiku, and it almost burst my bubble.  It was a very limited view on the form, since yes, haiku were typically about nature, and weren't just seventeen syllable sentences chopped up into three lines.  However, things change.  Maybe what I write shouldn't be called haiku.  Honestly, I don't care.  Call it what you wish.  I like it, I think it, I write it.

At some point, I've stopped caring about strict definitions of what is or is not good art, since really, I'm here to channel the stuff out of my brain.  That doesn't mean I want to stop growing as a poet (or person for that matter), just that theory only goes so far, and sometimes you just have to spend those ten thousand hours shaping clay the wrong way before you make the perfect vessel.

some critics don't see
splendor of art forest through
trees of tradition


I've also started a Tumblr blog if anyone is also on that.  I'll be sharing my haiku there, one at a time.

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