Tag Archives: Poetry

The Trick Haiku (and a Tanka).

raced from A to Z

The frenetic alphabet

in no time at all.

Initially, the Haiku wasn’t a Haiku.

I had the sensible:

The frenetic alhabet

raced from A to Z

in no time at all.

We’ll, that wouldn’t do;

So, I just mixed up the lines

And all became clear.

We’ll, actually,

It made things a lot less clear;

If you understand –

Which I am sure that you do;

Otherwise, all is in vain.

Play with words, go on;

You know you really want to;

Which is only right.

So, there you have it;

A Haiku, and a Tanka,

And some more Haiku.



Lady Bracknell: A ’syllable!’

The word ’syllable’

has three syllables, you see;

’syl’ then ’la’ then ’ble’.

A Haiku?

A haiku, you see;

Is three lines; of syllables,

Five, seven, and five.

Three lines; one, two three;

And syllables that fit in

Of five, seven, five.

Five in the first line,

Seven in the second line

And five in the third.

The Next Poem…

The next poem that you hear;

may not be this one;

but, another, better, one.

The last poem that you read

may well be this one;

or, another, better, poem;

if you haven’t read this one,

maybe you read that one, instead.

When Nonsense Makes Sense.

I asked a question

the other night;

I got an answer;

it wasn’t right.

I asked the question

once again;

and got a different answer: ten.

The question had no math at all;

I posed the question

to the wall;

the wall replied

with not a word;

it was the wisest

thing I’d heard.

Pottery is what I do!


is a lottery;

choosing the right words

putting them in the right order

getting the structure

and the form

just so

making sure that everything


is as desired.

A Silly Poem Just For You.

I was discovered

in a cupboard

nearly forty years later;

I had hidden:

nobody had sought.

I thought

that that

would be the end of it;

but, no;

it caused so much of a fuss

that they had to fill a bus

with melted snow,

just so they could say they had;

times were bad,

though, at times, times

we’re not so bad

as they had been,

or we’re going to be –

although, sometimes, they were.

We, as a community,

do not have total immunity

from sharing a sense of déjà vu;

you, on the other hand,

have no toes,

and a nose

which never glows.