Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion
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Haiku
Ships made of dreams - wow!! What an image :D
She abandons dayfor a raven feather cloak
and clandestine dreams.
He packed his bags, flewto Sumatra, swore off Day,
turned up Sinatra.
Over the rainbowhis halcyon flight, brought him
to lazuline skies
where cups of Java
the color of night, woke joy
in his old blue eyes.
Was Al then a writer dreaming she was a pirate, or is she now a pirate, dreaming she is a writer?
Eyes are the windowsTo long forgotten secrets,
better left alone
Well, this is an attempt to follow Nadia’s.“How the lonely calls
of distant freight trains haunted
winter nights!” Her clothes
were faded, antique,
her eyes like Gothic windows
with old, wavy panes.
She spoke, in the way
an evening wanes before ghosts
wander bare corn rows,
of rusting barbed wire,
late-autumn’s crows, and elm-lined,
wagon-rutted lanes.
The salesman who eyedMrs. Purvis snickered, suave
and well anointed:
“Don’t ever expect
good service and you’ll never
be disappointed.”
Thank you, Alex! I’ve perfected 5-7-5’s that are thread killers.
LOL!Well, lets see if I can create a Haiku zombie.
Mrs. Purvis stood
at the centre of her store
in a black g-string.
Her grey eyes with fifty shades
left him wanting to leave her.
Slyly she murmured,“Lager or Bach?” but her words
were like a bee sting.
Muzak’s “Crocodile
Rock” echoed dismally, then
“Air on the G String.”
Music no longeris what I remember it.
The days have gone by
They leave us with naught
music is quite surely dead
or just really ill.
He thought of the fearin her face, of her drab gown,
the number she’d scrawled
on a torn matchbook--
a seedy place south of town,
where scorpions crawled.
Hers were nights of chipsand Rotel, worn-out old songs,
a fleabag motel.
The flea's bag was smallAnd in it was to be found
Little but enough.
He could do the RaidSix Step in three. On the horn,
he played “Wonder Flea.”
A war on humansshall ensue this very night
Fleas will die no more.
“A Black Plague outbreak?”he spluttered. “That’s--” He stubbed out
his cigar. “Well, rats.”
This rat liked stogies While he waited in back lanes,
His fedora dark,
His clients nervous and few,
But very tall and pretty.
“His clients nervous and few . . .” What a memorable line! This little verse is like an engraving, the images are so sharp.
Come one and come all,Money spent on circus tent,
Be thee big or small.
M wrote: "“His clients nervous and few . . .” What a memorable line! This little verse is like an engraving, the images are so sharp."Thank you, M! So glad you liked it. Re-reading it, I'm scratching my head as to where in me the ideas for it arose.
.She took the money
even with knowing its source,
a tiny big man.
She made a strange sound,choked, glottal. The little man
dwelled in a bottle!
But was he fauna
or flora? Homunculus
or mandragora?
Very very clever M! And a serious challenge to follow!
on black satin sheetsshe gave herself to the moon,
rose petals and thorns
Where we dance on pointe,without blisters or tutus,
lift with strength and grace.
She knew his murmursin midnight’s blur came from dreams
of other than her.
She was troubled,sitting awake listening to
his 'adventures'.
Nice one, Lee-lette! Such a great one to follow.The sound of silence
Rests uneasily again
between sweat wet sheets,
beneath this cold starry night,
its unseen darkness and dawn.
I tried to write dawnand how I love you; some things
are far beyond words
A glimmer, a glance,But these are words unspoken,
Still, he took a chance.
She peered from dice dots,from cards’ pips, the evening’s haze
exhaled through her lips.
These are awesome guys!!! I don't think I can follow this!
[Thank you Lee-lette. Jump in! Your writing is fine.]Her breath moved the trees,
Lent truth to what wasn't said,
Cooled her lover's dreams.
His dreams were wild,but took a turn at
the mere thought of her.
That's beautiful, Lee-lette! Nicely done :)
[Yes, very nicely done!]Asleep in a dream
His thoughts are not what they seem
And she is his meme.
She waited for himin autumn’s halls, by white-oak-
shadowed waterfalls.
Her life is nigh done,her now short hair grey and thin,
her lonely tears spent.
She thought, “Had I todo it over, I’d have bought
and new Land Rover.”
Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company!
Books mentioned in this topic
Mugging the Muse (other topics)The Raj Quartet (other topics)
Marcovaldo (other topics)
Invisible Cities (other topics)
Confessions of a Taoist on Wall Street (other topics)
More...
Authors mentioned in this topic
David Payne (other topics)Thomas Merton (other topics)
Robert Payne (other topics)
Barbara Gowdy (other topics)
David K. Reynolds (other topics)
were collected together
and used to dust dreams.