At the centre of the Universe
there is a tiny little thing
called ‘hub’.
This thing, called ‘hub’
I just can’t get enough
information about it.
If you have any knowledge
you could loan me
I would be only too happy to receive it.
Thank you
in anticipation.
G:)
What is this Starch Art that I hear of?
How does that work?
I thought that Starch was just for stiffening stuff;
and I haven’t seen any Starch Art in the galleries that I haven’t frequently frequented.
Perhaps it’s very minimalist,
or just not that good.
Maybe it’s a new thing
that hasn’t been about that long.
Who knows?
I don’t – and I’m a Leo.
I wrote a song for you
I’ll sing it wrong for you
And much too long for you.
It won’t be the best song
that you’ve ever heard
not even the second or third
but, it will be
the best song by me
named ‘Shabb-a-lab-a-lab-a-lee!’
Shabb-a-lab-a-lab-lee!
Shabb-a-lab-a-lab-lee!
Shabb-a-lab-a-lab-lee!
I dress for you
quiet Shabb-a-lab-a-lab-a-lee.
The Zing
in May
is a wonderful thing;
quite literally
it is
a May Zing!
“We live in the “Duchy”not the “Ducky’” i said.
But, he was still chortling over “The Duckys!” comment that he had overused to the point of distraction.
That’s the thing about Grae, he never quite knows when a joke has gone past it’s ‘Best by…’ date. And ‘Use before…’ also, makes little sense to him.
No wonder he is often greeted by the blank stares of incomprehension, and then had to climb up them, reaching the very top, only to find, that at the bottom of the stares had been the place to stop.
And on with the next pun, please.
“Man goes, in a fruit shop….”
“Let’s play Sardines!” said Syd.
“Don’t be a Pilchard, Syd!” said Harry. “You know the trouble we had the last time we played it.”
Syd looked glum. “I know; but, can’t we put it to a vote, Harry?” he asked.
“Sure!” said Harry. “Okay, Everybody! Hands up who wants to play ‘Sardines’!“
Not a hand went up.
“See, Syd?” Said Harry. “Nobody wants to play Sardines.”
Syd looked even glummer.
They all carried on with their game of kiss-chase.
Sometime later, Syd caught up with Harry, and with a quizzical look, he said: “Harry? Fish don’t have hands!”
Harry smiled. “True, Syd; but, I ask you this, where do fish fingers come from?”
Harry swam off to the other end of the aquarium, bubbling with laughter.
Syd huddled in his corner, slowly mulling over one of life’s big questions.
Seventeen words
In three syllables
how hard is that?
Ah! Not that easy
Perhaps I need to practice
or I’ll get it wrong.
Seventeen Syllables?
I made a Rookie error
In my adding up.
Okay, you may laugh!
Not trying to be funny,
just writing Haiku.
What? About ‘Nature’?
The Haiku speaks of ‘Nature’?
Birds, trees, lakes and stuff?
So all mine are wrong?
They are more like ‘Sen-r-yu?
Like ‘bad’ Sen-r-yu?
Well here goes nothing:
The Sun rises in the East
and we give our praise.
Better? Well, thank you.
If only I could practice?
I’ll think about it.
 | The Febrile Imaginin… on Words Haiku |
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| The Febrile Imaginin… on Words Haiku |
| trE on Words Haiku |
| The Febrile Imaginin… on Words Haiku |
