Journey – Experimental Quadrille – July 19, 2016

Music Box_small

Yes, the journey
began like all journeys
one step at a time

Some songs were sung
and some anthems played
yes, they shared a few tears

one became famous
one became homeless
the other died

And I – watched the music box
go ’round and ’round

© Gsk ’16

I came across this consignment from dVerse whilst visiting a fellow poet’s site (Write a poem in 44 words with the word “journey”) – it seemed interesting so I thought I’d give it a try … the poet is Candy from RHYMESWITHBUG and her poem is entitled: Summer Journeys.

Unfortunately I also read on dVerse that our dear fellow poet Vivi from VivinFrance passed away on July 5th … this will be such a loss for all of us.  My sympathies go to her family for their profound loss.

I remember when I first met Vivi – she advised me to buy Stephen Fry’s  “The Ode Less Travelled” (which I did) so that I might find a more fluent way to write poetry … rhythm instead of syllable counting (which I still like to do very much).  I’ll miss visiting Vivi’s posts an enjoying her dry humour.

And still I watch the music box go ’round and ’round … and another tear falls.

Festoons of Flowers – Haibun – December 20, 2015

New York City Umbrella Scene

Waiting for the bus in a sea of umbrellas can be an interesting experience.  The streets become as colourful as a Christmas scene festooned with multi-coloured decorations.  Some people always carry an umbrella with them, so they’re the small telescopic variety, maybe made of bright plastic or a duller clothe-like material.  Some came out after the rain began to fall and have an umbrella that covers not only their head and shoulders, but maybe three or more phantasmagorical persons.

Imagine Rome on a rainy day where I used to work.  Romans, and indeed most Italians, aren’t used to the disciplined queuing up so common in an Anglo-Saxon world.  They see the bus coming and jostle their would be fellow passengers trying to be the first on the bus when it pulls up.

The people who would descend from the bus, can’t, until finally someone gives way, overcoming the impasse.  People begin to step off of the bus, with their umbrellas before them, which pop open like flowers on a documentary run at high-speed. Then finally the new passengers mount the bus walking like crabs, a sort of sideways back-step, their umbrellas behind them, so they won’t get wet.  I often wondered if all of this wasn’t some mysterious metaphor of Italian life.

festoons of flowers
blooming on a rainy day
catching a bus

© G.s.k. ‘15

This haibun was written for: Haibun Monday – 4 which appeared on dVerse presented by Mary, who also furnished the photo used in the post unfortunately for me, I’m very late writing and posting this … but I thought the prompt was lovely so participated anyway in the comments. To all of you who read this post, I’d really encourage you to click the link where you’ll find many more haibun and of course the prompt!  Ciao, Bastet.

 

 

October 27, 2015 – Haibun – November 7, 2015

View of the church of Saint Paul de Mausole by Vincent van Gogh

church of Saint Paul de Mausole by Vincent van Gogh

On the highway .. I couldn’t drive, cheating time, I snapped photographs – returning home.  Trucks, cars a somnolent village on a hill-side. Snap snap snap. Almost home.  Then to the morgue. Is this broken body him?

broken-winged bird
has flown far from here
[it’s not him]

© G.s.k. ‘15

(Linked to dVerse Haibun Monday 3)

OctPoWriMo Day 9 – Friends (Haibun) – October 9, 2015

Another day, another season passing and with it’s passing tomorrow is born. The two young men go tramping along the country road behind the cemetery wading through the dry fallen leaves walking Michael’s dog.  Theirs is an odd relationship. Months  pass and seemingly they lose sight of one another as each follows a different trail, only to catch-up with their life-long relationship in the first seconds of their coming together again.  Their friendship has withstood the ravages of time, girlfriends and life choices.  Comfortable in the exchange of their experiences (they remind me of two scientists or perhaps philosophers exchanging notes) they console each other making suggestions of how to help the other’s dreams come true. The church bell strikes the hour, they separate, not knowing when the next encounter will be but sure they will meet again.

afternoon in fall
the graveyard is decked out –
bright chrysanthemums

 © G.s.k. ‘15

 

“Yesterday is but today’s memory, and tomorrow is today’s dream.”  by Kahlil Gibran (found on dVerse – Haibun Monday)

A Nonsense Story – August

Superman

Superman

Obelix , Superman and Hänsel&Gretel
Met a dragon with a wheelbarrow
Whilst collecting some young icicles
For  the lovely Ice Queen’s party
In her summer palace …

A dragon was going their way,
So he offered to help them …
He let them use his wheelbarrow
To carry the icicles,
So they wouldn’t melt away …

They then met a black cat
Who was strolling along
With a yellow toothed dog,
Who joined the fine group
Instead of going home …

A greek God and Goddess
Drove by in a blue car …
Instead of a radio …
A saxophonist played the blues
Accompanied by a chicken violinist.

They all gathered together
Before the bright palace
Each baring some gift …
For the Ice Queen’s name day feast
In her summer palace.

A raven announced them one by one
As they came up to her throne.
Then they went to the buffet
And had some strong wine
Served in cups, with bright yellow flowers.

The Ice Queen’s young lover …
Flirted openly with young Gretel
As the party roared on
He became quite drunk …
And soon ran amok.

The chicken violinist
Played Mozart and Bach …
The saxophonist played
Laid-back rhytmic jazz,
To the delight of them all.

It was right about midnight,
When a pretty young maiden …
Started running around
Shouting she had to be off,
Chased by a princess in a bright blue gown.

The guests went away happy and bright
For they’d never had such a wonderful night.

dVerse … Skat … August 6, 2014

TavernSkat

The dame in the moon
An old man and a bat
Met at the pub to play skat
Now, just imagine that!

(‘Twas it baseball with a bat?
Now I’m sure that I’m right
Skittles with a bat?
Just can’t imagine that  …)

The game ’twas skat
The dame in the moon an old man
and a bat
Did you get that?

They’d meet in the pub
Down by the bay
They’d order some grub
Grab the cards and then they’d play …

(You mean with pins and a ball
Can’t play skittles with cards
Can’t play baseball at all
What was the game called? )

The game ’twas skat
The dame in the moon an old man
and a bat
Did you get that?

They’d drink their grog
Taking turns with the dealing
Until up came the fog
Then, they’d go out and they’d jog …

(‘Twas it pinochle they played
‘Til up rose the fog —
And who went to jog
An old man a bat and a dog?)

The game ’twas skat
The dame in the moon an old man
and a bat
Did you get that?

Not pinochle not baseball
Not skittles but skat!
The dame in the moon and a bat
With an old man, now imagine that!

(Uhm … What’s skat?)

(C) G.s.k. ’14

§§§§§§§§

… tell us a story…

If you’re up for an extra challenge, tell us about the old man, the moon and a little bat who meet at night here in the pub for a game of skat sometimes… you never saw them…? see, they’re a bit shy.. usually but… maybe if you’re quiet… and maybe you can even tell us what they’re talking about… smiles.

 

For dVerse Poet’s Pub:

Linear Time – Ghazal for dVerse – June 20, 2014

History’s seeming mutating change in linear time …
Keeps me wondering about the meaning of linear time.

When wayward drones warn me of terrible change in war…
I reflect on the fickleness of linear time.

I feel that the renewal of life is an endless changeless cycle …
As I see the stagnant historical repetition, what of linear time?

Wondering if perhaps disastrous change is again upon us …
Is new dark age to be inserted in the annals of “linear time”?

Bastet ponders upon the strange fate of our changing planet …
And mankind’s grasping unshaken belief, in linear time.

N.B.  We think that time goes ever forward, some believe that history is a document that demonstrates that humanity, if not in its particular civilizations but as a whole is forever moving forward in a linear evolutionary pattern becoming always more and more “civilized” … I wonder.


This ghazal was written for the dVerse Poetry prompt Repetition because I’d just been speaking about the ghazal with a friend and she brought the prompt to my attention.

By the way, this is a particularly interesting prompt as it presents many forms which use either repetitions of lines or phrases … which I love to write, so even if I don’t submit a few future poems to the dVerse Mr. Linky I do intend to write using some of these forms presented in the post over the next few days!

Carpe Diem Little Ones -Tilus

Recently I did a post based on the tilus which I’d discovered through The Red Wolf Poems Blog.   Bjorn also introduced it to the Carpe Diem blog…but both discovered the form through dVerse Poet’s Pub.  It’s a tricky form.  I’d advise you to go and look at the link below, which will take you to the Carpe Diem Haiku Kai post which contains many examples.

So, for Carpe Diem’s Little Ones I’m going to try a series of tilus!  Very similar to a haiku in the sense that the main focus is on nature, it has a 10 syllable count: 6 – 3 – 1, it was invented by Kelvin S. M.

summer’s come … nostalgia
fills my heart …

Rome

§

childhood  memories,
fire flies flash …

joy

§

river flows quickly by
racing past …

gone

§

remembered desert heat
Djibouti …

hell


Written for Carpe Diem Haiku Kai – Little Ones

new logo Little Ones(1)

Tilus – A new poetry form

I was curious to know what the blog Shiteki Na Usagi was all about when I saw it mentioned (by way of a comment link 😉 ) on The Red Wolf Poems blog…and found a new poetry from which came from thedVerse Poet’s Pub!  What a long road for a short poetry form…for it’s very short indeed, just 10 syllables in all!

Tilus [tee-loo-hz] is a form created by Kelvin S.M. and falls under the category of micro poetry. The form is divided into two parts: the first part is composed of two lines following a 6-3 syllable count; the second part, a one-syllable word to close and/or complete the subject layered in the first part. The whole piece must, only, contain 10 in overall syllable count. The main focus of Tilus is on the world of Nature, and how it can open a new door to a wider understanding of life and beyond. The form aims to be epic in emotions expressed, more importantly, than to be epic in words.”  for dVerse

Irresistable! So, now along with the beloved haiku, senryu, elfje, shadorma etc. I have a new category to add – the tilus!

spring bird’s estatic song
serenades
love

calm day breaks into storm
wolf-wind howls
fear

sweet sunshine rising warm
summer morn
smiles

Here’s:  Shiteki Na Usagi where I found the poetry form and dVerse where Tawnya found it.