Oleander Branch – Prose Tanka – February 19, 2016

Green Leaves

Some of the young people walk down the street pushing each other in good humour.  A little apart there is a pair of young couples holding hands and exchanging kisses.  Some kids are still in an early morning stupor, just not quite awake yet. The youthful vitality overflows every morning on this street throughout the week with the cacophonic babbling of students waiting to go to school.  An oleander bush stands near the bus stop.  One of the boys rips off a branch and pretends to be a “mage” chasing his companions shouting: “Fire Ball!!”.  As the bus comes into sight, he throws away his wand.

thrown on the dust heap
oleander branch
picked by the careless hand
of a wayward mage

© G.s.k. ‘16

Carpe Diem #920 Hunger (Empathy)

Human beings are odd creatures.  They have ideas and ideals that no other creature in nature has and this can be positive of negative I suppose.  In either case we believe ourselves to be superior beings, above the plants and animals of course, who have no sense of good or bad, who can’t really get into understanding what life is.  We know how the “other” feels, because we have what’s called empathy, being able to slip into the reality of another being, this is one of the reasons we are special. But our empathy is imperfect, as is our sense of right and wrong.  Or perhaps there’s more than meets the eye.

The Mage – Free Quatrain – February 5, 2016

Secure in my perfect sense of time
I walk alone in these dark days
Avoiding distortions and traps
That would confound another mage

Secure in my perfect sense of time
The continents change transforming
This water-world’s blue appearance
As I move my mouse to and fro

Secure in my perfect sense of time
A call comes from the highest realms
Alas this mage must go to school
My mother shouts: “you’ll miss the bus!”

© G.s.k. ‘16



(5) Words: | SENSE | SECURE | WALK | TIME | ALONE |

A Beautiful Balloon – Haibun – October 27, 2014

“Up, up and away in my beautiful balloon …” a pice from one of my favorite bits of music when I was in my troubled teens.  From a chatty kid, I became a quiet introverted adolescent, living my days reading, listening to music and writing dark poetry.

No on seemed to know the troubles I’d seen and few were interested, let’s face it, when you’re blue, people usually don’t know how to cope with you.

Finally one day I made a friend in art class, he was about as introverted as I.  We spent afternoons together mostly talking about our problems, eating potatoe chips and drinking coffee.

I discovered that his problems were harder to bear than mine.  He was gay … and in the 60s that was hard, maybe even harder than it is today. We got our fill of needed talk and began to work on our art projects, listening to music and generally moving onwards.

I heard “A Beautiful Balloon” for the first time with him and when I hear it I think of him …

through dark years
a beautiful balloon flies
destination – joy

(c) G.s.k. ’14

Linked to Ligo Haibun

Romeo and Juliette – revisited

Young lovers, vow eternal devotion
Yet your vital emotion is thwarted
By sensible forward-looking parents,
In love with successful financial worth.

Off with you dear Juliette – away!
Your Romeo will stay behind they say
Time erodes your fond memories and then,
Into your life soon came, new faces, others.

Through the passing years you change direction,
Your memory has faded and too Romeo …
You wed another … forget your young love,
The passion that was yours is forgotten .

Your choice for the secure and safe bores you…
Life so mundane, you don’t really exist …
Until you walked into that park and saw
Your Romeo of so many years hence.

You are now on your own, no husband,
To walk here by your side…the marriage failed,
He too walks freely, he’s got no attachments
The magic of your youth becomes a flame.

Passion flares though your youth has long since gone
Romeo and Juliette find your love
No knife or poison will destroy your lives
No parents wisdom separate your hearts.
The rightness eclipsed every mistake made along the way.

Speakeasy Prompt # 158


Troubled Times

Trouble Times

Seems like the world is getting harder.
Friends in trouble, towns under water.
Wondering what will be the conclusion,
Of yet another round of promised illusion.

Getting still older getting more tired,
Economy shot, will one be fired?
Over 50s kaput, kids can’t work…
Yet that banker had a stupid smirk!

Can there be some hope in these sad times?
Can there be a righting to the wrongs?
Can we hope to see old folks secure?
Can we hope to see jobs for youth?


Reflections: Defeat


Youth had its way
somehow true, that back then, each day
was longer, more complete,
and I never thought about defeat.

Years passed days grew shorter
then my mind contemplated
the meanings of fear and experience
and I began to have thoughts of defeat.

Ah! To be a child of wonder again,
to look upon the world with new eyes,
that knew no answers and indeed had no questions…
but now, half my day slips by in memory of defeat

When once my coffin is prepared,
will my days of eternal silence be shorter still:
no questions, no answers no fears will I know
and defeat will have been just an illusion.


I’ve been reading Gary’s poems of the past two days…from wizard training to Deliverance…so inspiring.

Villanelle: Creative Aging


Creative Aging

In my early morning dreams of creative delving,
Inspiration leads me now to an ever greater height!
Thus delighting in the evening memories of aging.

When in my youth I thought of my life’s goal:
Ah, painting and art were my greatest delight,
In my early morning dreams of creative delving.

My years have seen the tarnishing of my soul,
I feel no disillusion though it’s no longer bright!
Thus delighting in the evening memories of aging.

I lived with far too much discipline and control.
Spontaneity often sacrificed to what was right,
In my early morning dreams of creative delving.

Thinking that soon I’d sleep in a grassy knoll
Freed I from that dark prison, my own birthright!
Thus delighing in the evening memories of aging.

Youth can be beached on an ideology’s shoal!
Better to have freed creative fires to brightly ignite
In my early morning dreams of creative delving,
Thus delighting in the evening memories of aging.


Written for Cubby’s Villanelle Challenge




Free Verse: Bright Eyed Boy

Free Verse

My Bright Eyed Boy

I think back to when you were born
my bright eyed boy
the frown you had when you looked upon
a world gone cold after your life of warmth
the scowl that you wore upon your face
saying with your angry eyes and cries
that something  wasn’t right!
my bright eyed boy
comforting you did not accept,
you wanted answers to your questions
and even now
though years have passed
you still wonder
where is the warmth
in this cold existence
we would call life.
Ah, for the answers…
I’d surely give them
if only I could,
my bright eyed boy.