old well, no bucket a frog jumps in anyway the sound of water Did you know that Matsuo Bashō (and other masters) didn't have to follow the form of a Haiku at all, it's a Haiku *because* they wrote it.
By Tim Carmichael24 days ago in Poets
opening the flesh suppressed by a tourniquet his eyes rolling back
By Bride of Sound24 days ago in Poets
tidal waves recede obsidian sands reclaim the jagged shoreline
Surrounded by oth- ers. A bee rests for a mo- ment on my thumb. Come.
By Sarah O'Grady24 days ago in Poets
all the birds fall dead a massacre in the wind carcasses fester
We can easily Count seeds in any apple Not apples in seeds
By Margaret Minnicks24 days ago in Poets
Light through morning mist - Cold and damp upon my skin. The taste of coffee.
By Eda Marie24 days ago in Poets
Screen across the room, The dark glass shows no image, Stillness in the frame.
By Jide Okonjo24 days ago in Poets
Such aural delight; The avian carolers celebrating Spring.
By the Phuzz24 days ago in Poets
Giraffe long and tall Sees things up, down, and around Small ants on the ground
Taste of peppermint Touch from a gentle warm hand Mahogany smell
By Rowan Finley 24 days ago in Poets
The thermostat clicks, Small black needle swings two degrees, Furnace hums below.
By Edward Smith24 days ago in Poets
