Half a continent/
divided, yet by love and/
water connected.
Posts Tagged ‘water’
Connecting With My Daughter Far Away: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku
May 10, 2016The Cure For Teeny Zucchini: Revolutionary Email Rhyming Haiku
February 1, 2016When the zucchini/
are much too teeny, one should/
water more freely!
Tread With Reverence: Revolutionary Blogging Haiku
March 7, 2015
Remove your shoes to/
connect and ground yourself with/
earth, water and sky.
The “These Are NOT Haiku!” Challenge: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku And Limericks
October 22, 2014The following banter between a friend and I is the result of a long-standing peeve of hers that my haiku … aren’t.
DS: First off, happy birthday! Hope it was a good one. Second: THOSE AREN’T HAIKU!
DK: (Moi)
I write these Haiku,/
girlfriend, just for you./
A tisket, a tasket,/
You’ll blow a gasket/
at the poetry I do.
(a limerick).
DS: ok…I like that one, but c’mon…you’re talented! You can do REAL HAIKU. I challenge you.
DK: My birthday called dawn./
Light swept, bright, down mountain slopes./
My life’s before me.
DS: YES YES YES!!
DK: She’ll oft criticize./
I’ve seen ducks’ moist backs before./
She still makes me laugh.
DK: She smiles, radiant./
A bright bouquet reflects her./
Miracles happen.
DK: (do you want me to stop?)
DS: Yes you can stop now. But please keep writing them correctly!
DK: If I stop the flow/
of protoplasmic verse, I fear/
my nucleus’ burst.
DS:NO NO NO!! NOT HAIKU!!
You can’t just put a /
Where you want the line to end.
Thought must be complete.
DK:
I understand that./
My words freeflow like rivers./
They tickle my mind.
Gone Fishin’: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku
June 28, 2013When the going gets/
tough in my life, I cast a/
lure in the water.
Sharing Water With Friends- A Rescue: Revolutionary Email Poetry
May 4, 2011May 4, 2011, 8:23 AM
She
who floats,
drifts,
glides,
pulses with waves
on the vast sea,
struggling alone,
insists on
friendship,
yet yearns for
penetrating
gazes and
soft
caress;
for deep
knowing,
for caring
fingertips,
for warmth
of being pulled,
rescued from
eternity’s depths,
held from loneliness.
He
stands in the foam,
wades into the waves,
dives deep,
out, through the surf,
to her side.
Strong, sure
strokes,
practiced for years,
never fully used,
wishing he could
extend
in full measure,
his caress,
his feelings,
his thoughts,
his soul.
He saved
friends before,
but not like this.
Not with all
the passion,
tenderness,
poetry,
soft caress
his heart has to offer.
He doesn’t want
to just pull her to shore
and wait for
someone else
to revive her.
But if that’s all
she wants, friends …
Or maybe it’s just
semantics.
—–
Resuce Addendum (9:32 a.m.)
As they,
two,
lay on the beach
together,
entwined,
he applied
the aid learned,
the touch
and caress
she yearned
for.
Could she revive
and realize
that time
and patience
and proper
application
was all
she really wanted
or desired?
No other aid
was needed.
Cyrano Writer: Musings of a Revolutionary Romantic Poet 
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