the deep end of the holidays: weekly haiku

Friends from out of town, family from down the road, buddy ole’ pals descending from shaking planes… I feel very lucky to have spent the holidays surrounded by loved ones! And to top it all off, it started snowing this morning, as if the earth wanted to end the holidays in style. I hope you all enjoy the haiku, tanka, and micro poems below. Happy Reading, everyone. 


Monday

Open mouths shouting
Calling me ‘too serious’
With closed, clenched fists.
I point out the irony
But receive only cold stares

Tuesday

I hear the plane land
Somewhere in the darkness
Delivering my childhood
With a moonlight smile

photo by annie spratt

Wednesday

Steam rises with the train
Like a metal dragon
Crawling out from
City Gutters and rumbling
Into the fields
Belly low
Hissing

Thursday

Bad manners drown us
Blur our voices out downwind
And dirty. Unforeseen

Friday

Hungover and damp
My attitude resembles
The mop head, overturned
And off color, resting
In a dark and quiet corner

Saturday

Cat fur between thumb
And heart, fluffy as new snow
Falling onto our pillows

photo by octavio fossatti

Sunday

Door opens inward
Delivers visitors into
The heart of breakfast
Bacon launched like arrows
Into our dark,open mouths

micro poems like twinkling lights

photo by Florian Zeh

 Although not an great week for creative writing, this week proved to be wonderful for a lot of other reasons: time with family, fancy wine, timeless literature (I’m finally rereading the Crystal Caves, by Mary Stewart), and twinkling Christmas lights that lit up the sky everywhere I went. I hope your holidays were filled with joy, just like mine. Happy reading everyone.

Monday

Setbacks countered
With pizza and beer
Bowling pins
Crush the negativity
In a slippery
Day-glow sort of mess

Tuesday

Small cheek resting
Here in the crook of my arm
A quiet, fluffy love

Wednesday

Cinnamon coffee
A tempest, swirling clockwise
In rolling waves of cream.
I release the sugar, playing god
With each sweet, gusty granule

Thursday

Apricot cider
Cold in hand, warm in belly
Gold as Christmas Eve

Friday

New cologne saturates
Fills shoulder and shirt
With oak, smoky sequoia
Rising into me

Saturday

I unlock the door
Walking into the new year
With keys in hand
Petty armor clasped tight

Sunday

Cheerios float
Inside my bowl like small boats,
Raising their sails
Navigating to the ends
Of another flattened world


In case you’re wondering, this is week 11 of  my daily adventures in writing teensy, tiny poems

a week of micropoems & rule breaking

This week I realized that I’m getting really bad at following rules (some clarification: parking rules, army rules, silly little rules, really). I just don’t feel the need to abide this week, so I let myself do it and I grumble to myself like an old lady. And I’m perfectly okay with that. I hope you all enjoy the poems below. I was inspired by a lot of art and literature this week (some good, some bad). Happy Reading!

Monday

Prejudice revealed
Within your unproofed pages.
Even your hatred
Lives misspelled and sloppy
Hatred all over your have hands

Tuesday

(I)
Simian and slipping
Into the mist
We fade
Dissipate
Beneath
The midday sun

(II)
Tinkling of small bells
Fills the apartment with life
Cat welcomes me home

Wednesday

Throw your papers up
And let them fly
Watch them
Swing back down
Like rough cut
Snowflakes,
Falling, falling
Softly

Thursday

Even the best of us
Will one day outgrow
Our winter coat.
It’s shape will push back
Against us,
Swallow us into
A woolen cocoon

(This little poem turned out to be the start of a longer piece that I wrote about closing chapters in our lives)

Friday

Pricked and full of prose
I duck my head
Back into the pages

Saturday

Winter beer as cold as the season
Spills down the back of my hand
Covering my knuckles
In tangy, bitter foam
Thick as the snow
That covers my boots

Sunday

New tattoo itches
Tightens my skin and scabs
Constant reminder
That life is always changing
But the scenery remains
Beautiful and still.