Monthly Archives: August 2014

My Penultimate Poem – 30-04-2013 by Graeme Sandford

As it’s August the 31st I thought a poem from April 30th, 2013 would be in order – this is the penultimate poem (the one before the one that came after!) G;)

Graeme Sandford

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The Penultimate Poem

The Penultimate Poem as written by me

With my ultimate pen – but there’s a problem that I just didn’t see;

And it’s this: It’s the last day of April, I feel such a fool,

I lost the sense of timing, forgot the golden rule,

That April hath but thirty days… ooops!

So, this is still my Penultimate Poem, my last but one…

Before my next poem, the Ultimate One!

But, deary me, what is the one after that to be?

Is there such a thing as an Ante-ultimate poem, I ask?

Or a Post-Ultimate one? Or some literary term that fits a name to the task?

I think I have made an error in calculation;

Missed the elation that the last day of our journey will sing

Now our poetical month is nearly up. One thing

More… What next? What will tomorrow bring?

April the thirty-first…

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Beast-iku 1-2 by Graeme Sandford

 

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The Haiku of the Beast

Beast-iku 2

“Man goes in a fruit shop!”

That always makes me laugh;

I do get bored down here.”

Beast-iku 1

I knew you were alive;

I could hear you snoring;

Would you like a cuppa?

 

Haiku: ‘Thirty-One – the last one ever!?’ By Graeme Sandford

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Thirsty-thirst Haiku!
No, I think I got that wrong:
It’s the Thirty-first!

‘Series’ of ‘haiku’
Nearly five hundred of them
In one short August!

What an achievement!
Hoorah and hooray, I say!
Yoiks and tally-ho!

The sound of silence
Comes back at me with such glee
That I check my pulse.

Still alive! Still kicking!
Kicking poems into shape
Probably square.

And have they achieved;
Are they of a lasting hue;
Or colour me mad?

What that means is moot;
These haiku don’t give a hoot –
Owls of derision!

Laughter emanates
From a poor poet’s mind-set
Unto the clear page.

Filling with comment,
That page, until it is full
Ready to be read.

But, lock it away!
Hide it from tender viewings;
Let it fade from sight!

You know, I just might!
I have been a writing fool,
I misuse my tool.

Creating garbage
When I could, with some effort,
Have created gold.

Or aimed much higher!
A limerick on day one;
Two on day two, yes!

That would have tested.
Getting rhymes and sense –
In a funny way.

Or ‘sonnets’ maybe.
Shall I compare me to Him?
I am no great Shakes!

He was such a one;
I am just a right no-one;
Scribbling poetry.

A humble being;
I know my limitations
And can count ‘seven!’

From one to there and…
back again – how cool is that?
That’s ‘rhetorical!’

I am but mortal;
And being ‘so’ know the truth-
The truth is out there!

I exclaim loudly;
Nobody is listening;
They have had enough.

Which is kinda rough;
But is not unexpected –
By a long old chalk!

So, as my dream fades;
And I return into air;
Into that thin air –

Like Prospero does
And as all of us will do
When our time is come,

I go, leaving space:
Where another can take hope
And vision’s soft cape

And with quill in hand;
Set loose the fair porcupine
Upon their blank page.

Well – that is it, then!
No more adieu (or ado(
As a friend once said…

Lots! But, hear I Him;
The convolution of Words
That fly home to roost;

And build their small nests
In the ‘arbour of my art!
Whatever that means.

So, I bid you go;
And not look back towards me;
There’s nothing to see.

Only emptiness;
And the possibility
Of a shadowplay.

And thus it begins;
At the point of an ending;
I say ‘Fly, you fools!’

 

 

 

 

 

Haiku: Thirty. – One Hit-Wondering by Graeme Sandford

Just hoping to catch those that missed this earlier – just sayin’ G;)

Graeme Sandford

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Saturday Morning:
Up with the proverbial;
‘Not’ singing the Blues

‘Woke up this morning…
Da dada da da!’ I sing
No, I don’t really.

But, the Blues are cool –
If a little bit ‘moody.’
The ‘Whites’ are ‘Whiter!’

A song in my head;
Happy and full of lightness;
Wanting to be sung.

“As I walk this road
With my eyes upon the world
I see no evil.”

And now the chorus:
“There are blue skies overhead;
That is what I said.”

Not the best chorus;
But, it will do for the ‘mo!’
Which word means ‘moment’.

But, you knew that; yes?
Anyway, back to the plot;
Now, where was I at?

Oh, I remember!
Something about me singing;
With a song I go!

The words they must fit
The music, and vice versa;
The music the words.

That’s ‘Shakespearean’
In its true simplicity;
‘Suit the action to…’

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Haiku: Thirty. – One Hit-Wondering by Graeme Sandford

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Saturday Morning:
Up with the proverbial;
‘Not’ singing the Blues

‘Woke up this morning…
Da dada da da!’ I sing
No, I don’t really.

But, the Blues are cool –
If a little bit ‘moody.’
The ‘Whites’ are ‘Whiter!’

A song in my head;
Happy and full of lightness;
Wanting to be sung.

“As I walk this road
With my eyes upon the world
I see no evil.”

And now the chorus:
“There are blue skies overhead;
That is what I said.”

Not the best chorus;
But, it will do for the ‘mo!’
Which word means ‘moment’.

But, you knew that; yes?
Anyway, back to the plot;
Now, where was I at?

Oh, I remember!
Something about me singing;
With a song I go!

The words they must fit
The music, and vice versa;
The music the words.

That’s ‘Shakespearean’
In its true simplicity;
‘Suit the action to…’

But, you know those lines…
And I shall not waste your time
Teaching egg-sucking.

So what key to choose?
Key of… Front Door! Hahaha!
Old musical joke.

Why did the singer
Stand outside of the front door?
I don’t know – why did…?

Because, he couldn’t find…
The right key and he didn’t
Know when to come in!

Old musical joke
From an old musician – lol!
Which is ironic.

Why cannot white men…
Sing the Blues? Rhetorical.
Or blue men the ‘Whites?’

Enough sad nonsense!
I shall return to the plot;
A song to be writ.

Intro, then verse one,
Verse two, into the chorus,
A ‘sing-a-long one.

Then to chorus three.
Not forgetting ‘great’ lyrics –
In the English tongue.

Building up passion
As we travel through the song
Towards the ending.

And that is vital;
Always remember to end;
Or it gets boring.

I think a guitar
For a driving riff of sorts
Would be a good move.

You must have some drums;
Real drummer or drum machine?
Well, you know the joke…

With a drum machine
You only punch the rhythm
In once – cue the drums!

There are other jokes!
They mostly involve the bass
‘Invisible’ man.

‘Not’ the ‘quiet’ man!
With his dull ‘plank’ instrument
Boom… boom… and repeat.

Which is not bassist!
As I am a bassist myself;
But, that, you can tell.

Lead guitarists suck!
Did I say that out loudly?
That’s because it’s true.

Unless they ‘can’ play;
In which case: they are the best!
Apart from singists.

Encore!

I hope that this helps;
Your hit song will be the tops –
As a balloon pops!

 

Wal-ku 26-27 (A Little Pick Me Up & Following My Lead) by Vega

 

 

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Wal-ku 26

 

Vega:

“Too much for Haiku:;
She only has four little legs;
And needs carrying.”

 

 

wal-ku 27

 

Vega:

“Now I’m running free;
It’s the only way to be;
No! Not my lead! No!”

 

 

#vegathedoggerelpoet
#wal-ku
#puppypoem

Haiku: ‘Twenty-Nine – The End is Nigh! By Graeme Sandford

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The End is in sight;
‘The End Is Nigh! The signs say;
The Buck, It Stops ‘Here!’

Which means – nearly done!
And only a few haiku left;
Less than a hundred!

It has been noticed
That not all of these haiku
Are of any worth.

It has been mentioned
That this has been no great shakes;
I can see that’s true.

So, I shall try here
To readdress the balance
With some ‘good’ haiku.

Here goes, wish me luck
(I may need a lot of that)
It all helps, you know.

What beauty has Earth?
How wonderful is Nature?
How lucky are we?

There! That wasn’t hard.
Let me catch my breath for more;
Just need a quick stretch.

In all we observe;
Is anything lovelier
Than the world we see?

Open to debate, there!
It is not quite that easy
To write ‘good’ haiku.

‘I wander’d lonely…’
Which has already been done –
But not in haiku!

‘Let me count the ways…’
One… two… three…. four…. and so on;
Until all counted.

‘My love is like a…’
Add the appropriate thing;
Then await the hugs.

Though if you put ‘pig!’
I won’t be answerable;
It’s your own sweet fault.

The Sea hath a charm;
It’s gentle tide soothes my mind;
It’s fierceness, grounds me.

A new born camel
Is cute and it’s quite cuddly;
But, when grown up – not!

To write a haiku
Is not all that difficult;
But, how good is it?

Do I demean them?
Are they not worthy of more?
Where is my camel?

Which is a ‘Why-ku’ –
And ‘What?’ I hear you asking,
‘Is the point of one?’

Well, to be precise;
Which is how they should all be –
I just make them up.

And funny poems;
They are the most popular;
By far, oo-la-lar!

Thou some would here say:
“Haiku: they are ‘serious!’
Do not degrade them!”

I apologise
To those to whom I do seem
To be a big lout.

I here assure them
That my love of poetry
Makes me do these things.

I’m just being me;
Doing what it is I do
In my own strange way.

‘All’ publicity,
In my humble opinion,
For ‘poems’ is good.

The ‘haiku’ needs you!
As General Haig once said,
In some other time

Other dimension,
Or parallel universe;
Or didn’t – who knows?

The point is: ‘haiku’
Are just tiny thought patterns
In poetical form!