Miss Muffet

tanka... 57577

little miss muffet
was tired of being afraid
so she got a gun
put on some assertive gear
and confronted her demon

Easter...A Miltonian Sonnet

I want to paint my van like this one



butter bush



tibouchina




it's the time of yellow butter bush
purple tibouchina and cool breeze
Easter -  the season of garish tease
freezing cold then baking hot flush

the paddocks lovely  look quite lush
scribblies stand motionless like freeze
vegie beds untended grow wild sweet peas
the rain has ruined the sorghum to mush

we drive along the winding back roads
transported by our hard won freedom
our clapped out van packed to the gunnels

it is in the moment of this memorable mode
filled with joy in our  breathtaking blissdom
my heart runneth over at the top of its funnel

Good Friday

3WW

Now if you had've cooperated
Been more politically correct
Not upset the Pharisees
with terse commentary
Indulging in some Furniture throwing
with the money grubbers
in the Temple
Stopped upsetting the witch doctors
by curing the lame
You might have survived
But then
We most  certainly would not have
Sorry

Je suis desolee
Mi dispiace
lo siento
saya minta maaf
Es tut mir leid
Ek is jammer
Przykro mi
En sajnalom
Une jam keq
Olen pahoillani
Jag ar ledsen
Jeg er ked af
ikinalulungkot ko
Man zel
Zao mi je
Ta bron orm
Jeg beklager
Je mi lito

You got me running
Going out of my mind
You got me thinking
I am wasting my time
Don't Bring Me Down
No No No No No
I tell you once more
Before I get off the floor
Don't Bring Me Down

3WW

Enough of these terse comments
and lame quotations from Hamlet
Extinct moulting bird
Dodo wondrous Dude
Co-operate , listen to Rall
Soon you'll be back squawking
Preening new feathers with your pals

The April Heights Haiku Month

I had a couple of hours to kill waiting for a late appointment last week so I tackled these.Time went very quickly .I was on a roll. Enjoy. Thanks for the prompts Leo.
PS
Ironically finding  the illustrations took more than twice the time it took  to write the haiku:)


Day 1

















 












It's Easter Sunday
Christ has risen from the dead
ascent from the tomb






Day 2

butterfly kisses
smooth lashes across my cheek
heads on a pillow

Day 3

burning the candle
i watch the kamikaze
moth frizzle zap hiss


Day 4














boring lecturer
droning on and on and on
will it never end


Day 5


















walking on eggshells
is a strain,the reason she
has very few friends

Day 6














tears have extinguished
all fire in  my sad hurt  heart
put to rest at last

Day 7













your hair is thinning
wrinkles deepen but to me
you are beautiful

Day 8












the grasshopper played
all summer long,she forgot
about the winter

Day 9

the hunter chooses
vulnerable prey easy
to stalk and then kill

Day 10

wafts of sweet incense
floated on the breeze,in
joined hands and fervour

Day 11
















the scent of jasmine
spring has finally arrived
the bees say thank you

Day 12

















gleaming orange glints
silver and black spotted koi
dart through the green weed



Day 13

a white lone lily
on the top of a coffin
signifies young death

Day 14















only three hours sleep
heavy lids but still writing
haiku,killing time

Day 15

















the moon is still up
driving in the morning mist
down to Canberra

Day 16
















the nightingale's song
always reminds me of keats
twinings tea and scones


Day 17

in a pea green boat
the owl and the pussy cat
sailed to bong trees land

Day 18

social pariah
a misfit who despises
lofty poetry

Day 19
















oh Qutub Minar
sounds very exotic i
think i will buy one

Day 20

are you going to
scarborough fair parsley sage
rosemary and thyme

Day 21














shall i compare thee
to a warm autumn day
no i don't think so

Day 22

me and my shadow
are extremely good close friends
we never argue

Day 23














i sat on the sand
watching the tide go out
further than before

Day 24

















moving house again
moving countries once again
always uprooted

Day 25

my temper explodes
like an alive volcano
then quickly subsides

Day 26




















small thick beads of sweat
ran down her beautiful back
like a waterfall

Day 27

a xerox machine
something i have heard about
but not in my realm

Day 28

if music is love
if music is life  then i
am replete ,thank you


Day 29













what on earth is this
a youngling must be quite young
small spring chick perhaps


Day 30

a zebra crossing
ha why the beatles of course
bare feet and white suit

Camille Claudel ( 1864 - 1943 )

she was quite alone
fortitude was all she had
her dreams in her work



Camille Claudel Sculpteur Extraordinaire






A Persona Poem for Dverse

all of my fire and imagination
"the paganini of marble"they called me
got me locked away in the lunatic asylum
for thirty years alone grace a  mon frere
Paul Claudel le poete, et ma mere

oh the weight of that strand of Catholicism
and none heavier than that of the french middle class
the  french ferocious embrace of faith and most importantly
Respectability

i destroyed almost all my work in a white hot rage against  injustice
rodin had used my body and soul as an elixir of perpetual youth
he presented me with a baguette in the oven
his  way of saying  " je t'aime " -  tainted goods now

je t'aime
j'adore ton talent
so much so
i am stealing your youth
and your work
i cannot marry you
i belong to another

so they locked me away for thirty years
the staff pleaded with them to take me back
"she's only committed the crime of imagination"
they chanted like a Greek chorus on deaf ears

"non non certainement non " dit maman
leaving her daughter clutching at a twig in a tornado
as she and her beloved son embraced Christ on their knees
at midnight mass praying

praying for the family embarrassment
thanking God in his mercy for providing
a lunatic asylum for the mad bad seed

after the service maman on the arm of her poet son
moved past the holy water font through the portals outside
into the cold night air
it began to rain softly in slow thick drops..plip plop
"C'est bizarre ca" she said rearranging the veil on her hat
" It tastes a little salty"

For Cosmic Boy

Three Word Wednesday

Baryshnikov
an icon
lithe limbs
pirouette perfection
causing sighs vapours
edgy tittering behaviour
amongst
the fairer sex

Reflection

dverse..sunday scribblings...poetry jam


there is something out there
i feel it when i work
he feels it when he works
i feel it in words as they slide
into my eyes down to my heart

...a connection

i see it in the face of  China
i see it in the face of my cats
i saw it in my Grandfather's quiet sadness
i see in the treetops from my window

...a presence

i have always known it

...before

before i could even talk
could even express myself
the knowing spirit
took up residence in my head
refusing to leave

Shadorma

remember
that hot matisse day
south of france
colour and style
tourists crammed packed en ete
yes yes yes

Haiku Heights

question time  again
a cacophony of squawks
parliament antics

Cinquains For The Weekend

ha
i remember
playing this when
i loved narcissus boy
youth!

i
was crazy
kept falling for
bad boys nothing has
changed!

Try A Little Tenderness...3WW

Do Not
Be over careful with your feelings
Fearful of making a mistake
Just a small hug will do
Try A Little Tenderness

Blueys Beach

low season
in this sleepy nook

quiet but for
the cry of gulls
punctuating
the pounding surf

everything is blue
at the empty motel

the blue pool
outside my door is mine

as i float
on my poetic thoughts
gazing up at the palm fronds
imprinted on my eyelids

to currawong recital
amongst the hibiscus
and the cicadas
thoughts of burnt vast plains
momentarily obliterated

i hear

"did you pack my RMs?"
and i'm back

Addendum:
RMs are R M Williams boots... essential attire along with the akubra for country blokes.

Hey Mambo

there is certain music
there are certain guys
who make you want to rip off your gear
and start dancin'

thankfully it does not happen often
hey mambo
mambo italiano

Haiku

i bought these myself
to revel in the beauty
rather than the thorns

paper thin egos
so transparent and fragile
torn by soft feathers

Haiku Heights - For The Weekend

no origami
for Lou Reed in his dotage
walk on the wild side

These Foolish Things

A Farewell To Foolishness

3WW

a transfer of affection
a brutal severance of connection

groping around looking for the light switch
in the dark in the middle of the day

these foolish things remind me of you sweetheart

For The Weekend

Haiku Heights

it's mardi gras  time
everyone's breezy today
fun frolics tonight

the roads are blocked off
everything's coloured rainbow
even the sea breeze

Trireme Sonnet...Matisse

They say he swallowed the sun
Wore the moon as perfumed  cologne
His hair soft and silver -his smile beaming

He loved his muse-she was young fun
Striped in orange and raspberry tones
Her pose seductive whilst day dreaming

His sunburnt house all pink and plum
Bunches of  flowers  all home grown
In rich coloured mosaic vases gleaming

At the end when his time was almost done
Did he think of her when he was all alone
Of her firm beauty and sensual leanings

Whirls of vibrant colour with crushed grey stone
Magnificent white magnolias in pale blue folds