Morning Haiku and Waka – Words for Others – August 18, 2015

Lamp Tree

trail blazer
sitting in the darkest hour
holding a lamp
alight the shadows this morn
as others have before you

mid-day shimmers
the sun fully risen sees
freedom in a song

he’s flying high
one step for humanity
just glided by

© G.s.k. ‘15

bells toll the hour
in the morning silence
awakening birds

ah … morning chill
this preview of autumn days
at four A.M.

 © G.s.k. ‘15

Papyrus – August 14, 2015

this love letter
written on papyrus
found in a tomb
how many seasons have gone
yet for him it’s always spring


in this garden
the papyri grow tall
in the fish pond
a memory of the Nile
growing near the mountains

© G.s.k ‘15

Written for:

Carpe Diem #795 Papyrus

Morning Haiku and Waka – August 7, 2015

Monochromed Flipearly bells ringing
the swallows are drunk on gnats
another hot morn


heat haze
shimmering on the mountains
as night becomes day


sombre thoughts
death passes close today
ah –  remembering
those who’ve gone away
alive somewhere within me


ah – those words
meanings within meanings
hidden and open
what really stands behind them?
loneliness and sorrow


“I want to be a star”
even a star
can quickly go nova
illuminating the sky

© G.s.k. ‘15

Morning Haiku and Waka – July 29, 2015

three o’clock
watching the darkness
caught in a spiral

but aren’t we all
– alone

dapples the mountains
rays over the hills
inviting a new day
yet this darkness remains

this misty rain
is only in my eyes
the sun rises
bringing brightness to the world
for all for the abandoned

© G.s.k. ‘15

Thoughts: Women and Writing

Sahm King at the Arkside of thought did a post today that I found not only relevent to poetry but to women’s place in society and in particular, the arts.

We’ve all been aware that J.K. Rowling recently wrote a crime novel.  We also know that she wrote under a pseudonym.  She did this probably in order to test her writing abilities and in order to pass from the Harry Potter era to something completely different.

She was betrayed by someone in her law firm (who has had to pay her damages by the way).   By blowing her cover, her book which was a slow seller became an over-night success on the strength of her Potter reputation.  Old news.  The real question is not that she wanted to try to publish without her Harry Potter success pushing the sales of her new book.  The question is why did she choose to publish as a man.

It was because of the genre of the book.  American and English publishers are convinced that women writing Science Fiction, Fantasy, Crime and similar genres will not sell.  I’d like to think that they are only afraid of missing out on their male buyers because they’ve been written by a woman, however I’ve a sneaking feeling that even female readers would have their doubts before buying a crime novel written by “Mary Mercy”.

Women have been pigeon holed.  Women are good at writing romantic stories or children’s stories.  How much more so since the invention of Chick Lit, for pities sake.  Thanks to Emily Dickenson, women can also write poetry and hope to be published if their poetry is feminine enough.  A poet from the Iraqi war zone publishing about the horrors of war, might not get published if that poet is a woman.

Some interesting reading:

I’m Sorry, But Your Poetry Just Ain’t Girly Enough by Sahm King

Why Did J.K. Rowling Use a Male Pen Name For her Crime Novel on Policymic

What’s in a name? Why authors use pseudonyms? on DW (a german e-zine) This article states that on the whole women publish crime books and are sold in Germany without any particular problems…but read on.

Have anything to add?


Silly poem: Categorying*

Silly Poem


I work
on my blog
my cats
and tags
what a gory battle
cleaning up my
adding new ones…
housing children
with their new parents
ah…so many
and thoughts!
so much more work
to get to the end
for I’ve got some categories
that house
pages and pages
of miscellanea…
there is an advantage!
reading my work
I’ve discovered
some poems I like!

*I know, categorying doesn’t exist…but I like it so there it sits!

Thoughts: A Visit From Baldy!

The other day I sent an e-mail to our friend Baldy to see how he’s faring…and it seems he faring fairly well!  Outside of a bit of a health problem, he’s still going quite strong in the world of Poetry and had the fine opportunity to read some of his poems at the Worcester Literary Festival!

Of course, I asked him if I could share this with you all…though the sound is a bit shoddy.

This was his reply:  “I would be thrilled for you to make a post about my Worcester literary festival appearance.  You made me smile today!  I have had some lovely responses from loved ones over the video (though many jokes about THE shirt, which I believe is jealousy.  Every man should own THE shirt that their wife will not be seen in public with.)

It was wonderful to be a part of it, and a real treat to be in such company, the other members of the Worcester writers’ circle are very talented and most supportive and encouraging of each other (much like the WordPress community)…Their latest anthology ‘You Can’t Be Serious’ was the brainchild for the Worcester Literary Festival event held by our circle this year and Tony Judge (a very funny man and excellent writer who has published two novels that I know of) has apparently done a wonderful job with it.  I am excited to get my own copies so I can see and show off my appearances within the pages (this is the twenty-sixth anthology that I have appeared in to date and I received two letters from Forward Poetry yesterday asking permission to publish two more – details to follow).

I believe the two poems ‘Uncle Jemmy’s Wibble’ (which came about from a conversation with my grandmother over my uncle’s childhood imaginary friend and sparked a series of funny ‘arguments’ in poem and letter form between them, a truly magical read that I hope to share one day but must get another look at them and ask their permission.  one day… one day…) and ‘Ode to ye Olde water Filter Jug’ (which came about from finding a post-it note on grandmother’s filter jug that read ‘please wipe my bottom’…) appear in the anthology but there was a miscommunication between myself and Mr Judge about the final piece and I think a piece of flash fiction of mine is in there.  The misunderstanding was due to the flash fiction and the poem I had intended for the book both sharing the same title.  I was delighted either way…”

And he has sent a copy of the poems that were read!

Uncle Jemmy’s Wibble

Wibbles are quite wonderful; they are most remarkable creatures,

They come in such a variety, with many interesting features,

I could not tell you what my Wibble looks like; you’ll say I’m telling lies,

Your Wibble could differ much from mine, but then, that’s no surprise,

Mine could have a smooth chin, whilst Granny’s sports a bright pink beard,

My Wibble wears a shirt and tie, which your Wibble thinks is weird,

Your Wibble’s handsome suit does not quite go with that dress,

But my Wibble’s suit of armour’s spoilt by the tutu, I confess,

Are Wibbles bald or hairy?  How big are Wibbles’ teeth?

Yours has a piercing where, you say?  Goodness gracious, oh, good grief!

My Wibble has a centre parting in his bottom fluff,

But don’t you tell the neighbour, she says she’s had enough!

After all our Wibbles’ farting and other Wibble-esque sounds,

And after what they did in her knickers drawer (that was clearly out of bounds!),

I’m surprised she hasn’t smacked our Wibbles, that they’re not black and blue,

Especially since they posted all her bras to Timbuktu!


[The Second Poem]

Ode to Ye Old Water Filter
(No Allegory Intended!)

 From sink unto side,

You once did roam,

But now, methinks, tis’

Time for a home,

As the years have taken,

A toll quite rotten,

Now that we must help,

To wipe your bottom.

Please believe that with,

The decision, we did wrestle,

As you have served us faithfully,

Oh, trusted vessel,

We will be ever grateful,

We pray you know,

But, alas!  Dear filter jug,

To a home you must go!


The Filter Jug’s Reply
Or ‘Grandmother’s Ire
By Dorothy Davis (a.k.a. Dotdot or GG)

You wait until you’re as old as I,

And your poor wet botty, you need to dry,

And your back says “ouch!” when you reach that far,

You may think then, “Oh, how bizarre!”

But according to you, that’s the moment when,

You’re put in a home and never seen again!


[To End With]


Two men discussed my punishment

As I stood in the hall,

“Detention,” Said the teacher,

“And you shall lose your ball.”

The head master and the teacher,

Did quietly confer,

“Don’t be misled,” I smiled at the Head,

“It was only a small window, sir!”

(Kieran Davis
You Can’t Be Serious
Worcester Writers’ Circle
Worcestershire Literary Festival 2013)

It’s been really delightful to hear from our blogging buddy…whom we all wish the best!

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