Quincunx Posted April 22, 2003 Report Share Posted April 22, 2003 (edited) Pearl between the sand and surf they quiver Scallop shells that strain on end, obedient to whims of water Not shut, though they pretend to be, strained through by thinking of her. there are a million grains of sand Streaming past into the bay and they the grit that makes the water Scar the shells that wait and pray that there's a way this world is kinder. but what of grit that's swept inside Sheltering within the shell that's hid away from whispers, water Thrashes outside like a bell yet does not wake the grain; it's calmer. she settles down to rest in velvet Nacreous and softly breathing and from demands of soulless water She is safe, shell's love receiving, glowing, lets the shell transform her. Edited February 10, 2005 by Quincunx Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Starlight Posted April 22, 2003 Report Share Posted April 22, 2003 Ooo... Starlight beams a smile at his lady in pride Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Alaeha Posted April 22, 2003 Report Share Posted April 22, 2003 Very very nice... Can't say too much as I have to go within sixty seconds, but... I like this. The imperfect rhyme seems to fit, and it flows very nicely, without having the slightly unusual rhyme scheme detract from what's being said. Very well done, if I may say so. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Peredhil Posted April 24, 2003 Report Share Posted April 24, 2003 Wearing pearls... You really bring out the entelechy of the person without long explanations. Good Job m'Lady. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Quincunx Posted December 28, 2003 Author Report Share Posted December 28, 2003 Cat Haiku. (reposted) Accidental meow! Tried to hold it in, but, but, You had tuna fish! (revised) Silent killer cat, Sleeping in a sunshine heap, Armed with killer farts. (fresh) Let me out again! Other side is neither here Nor when I go out. Ew, snow, ew, snow, ick! Pawprints tell this sorry tale Until the overhang. (with apologies to suzy becker*) Couch and loveseat both, Your bed, my bed, here and there-- I flaunt my hair loss. *author of All I Needed to Know I Learned from My Cat, including "Flaunt your hair loss" illustration. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wyvern Posted December 30, 2003 Report Share Posted December 30, 2003 Wyvern cheers in fond memory of AoA cat haikus, and adds a couple: Cuban cat cigar Nips the nose and engines toes Lets honk the meow horn! Prowl like a panther At night, when none are playful And cry in sad squeaks. Litter pyramid Tomb of ancient tuna fish Built with these bare paws. My personal favorite of the ones you posted here is probably still the "accidental meow" one, which is perfect, though the snow one is a very close second place. All of your haikus are very clever, though. On "Pearl," since I didn't get a chance to comment on it the first time around: I really liked the imagery in this, particularly the way that vanity seems to be implied by the subject of the poem resting in "velvet" and being described as "nacreous" and "glowing" in the last stanza. The entire beach metaphor was also very well done, and I really like how the ocean was personified in the last stanza. I thought that the structure was excellent as well, as both the rhyme scheme in each stanza and the slanted rhyme at the end of each stanza connecting them seemed to add to the rhythm of the poem. The syllable count also contributed to this, and I liked how the third line of each stanza was longer than the others with nine syllables. Very good poem. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Quincunx Posted July 7, 2004 Author Report Share Posted July 7, 2004 Terror in white fog. Nothing solid, nothing sane-- Only you are real. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Peredhil Posted July 20, 2004 Report Share Posted July 20, 2004 Loved the cat Haiku, I love most of what you do. Fog? Look for Starlight. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ayshela Posted July 20, 2004 Report Share Posted July 20, 2004 "Terror in white fog" Your words twang many heart strings. Brilliant, and so *right*. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Quincunx Posted July 3, 2005 Author Report Share Posted July 3, 2005 A rare revision, revised bits in italics although the complete poem will have none. Pearl between the rocks and surf they quiver Scallop shells that sway on end, obedient to whims of water Not shut, though they will all pretend to be, strained through and thinking of her. there are a million grains of sand Streaming past into the bay becoming grit that makes the water Scar the shells which wait and pray that there's a way this world is kinder. but what of sand that's swept inside Sheltering within the shell that's hid away from whispers, water Clamors outside like a bell yet does not wake the grain; it's calmer. she settles down to rest in velvet Nacreous and softly breathing and from demands of soulless water She is safe, shell's love receiving, glowing, lets the shell transform her. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Quincunx Posted March 20, 2008 Author Report Share Posted March 20, 2008 Gold The birchwood glows with age, the speckles splash, and the dasher soars up and down in gold and milk; scent flashes in the sun, bees scatter light. I am the golden, the morning, the fiery song. The morning shines pale as the dasher leaps up, feathered with speckles of cream. All else is gold: the birchwood and the bees, the wings which catch the spilling sun, the floating flakes of fire. Did Parsifal stop, and rest his white-winged shield, to sip the milk that shines in the cup of the sun? Or did he stay his path under glittering bees, taste the morning, shake his head, and travel on? I am the fire that quenches the watery morn. I am the honey that rings the neck of the swan. Writer's Workshop thread Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Quincunx Posted August 8, 2009 Author Report Share Posted August 8, 2009 Clap That's not the way hands were meant to meet! Stretch your arms and let me hold your wrists gently, bring your palms together. Not so slow. Try again. Yes, it makes a noise! That's called a clap, now pat your palms on mine! Patty-cake, patty-cake, baker's man-- Why are you a baker's man? I don't know! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts