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posted : 2004.Sep.16 @ 10.45am
i bid you greetings
as the new cell in the pod
<transmission begin>

posted : 2004.Sep.16 @ 10.52am
compulsion forces me to write
with no thought of my path
no meter, no precision
just a flow of words
winding down
until at last
we reach
the end

posted : 2004.Sep.16 @ 11.20am
anticipation tugs at me
as the cells begin to multiply
one, two, four, eight, sixteen
and the budding continues
a mystery, a miracle
in this never-perfect world
and all we can do is wait
and see what evolves

posted : 2004.Sep.17 @ 7.30pm
Give proper respect,
Greetings And Salutations,
With haiku effect.


posted : 2004.Sep.21 @ 9.39pm
"Honey is good to
warm the tummy on a cold
rainy day" Said Pooh

(I had to practice a few times.. I've never tried haiku before... and it's fun! <_< >_>)

posted : 2004.Sep.22 @ 4.25am
Your haiku was great MumbaiVibe. Smile If at all possible, I'd love to see more. Sharing haikus is one of my all-time favorite things to do.

"it's a heffalump!"
said the Bear of Little Brain
"Or maybe it's not."

Type, typing away
remember to close your tags
before uploading

Tried to take photos
but they took me somewhere else;
artistic journey

posted : 2004.Sep.22 @ 4.57am
I sent you my first
haiku, I hope it amused
you as it did me

"A- a- heffalump?!"
said a Very Small Pig
"Oh dear.. oh dear me!"

posted : 2004.Sep.22 @ 2.51pm
See us all in here
typing away together
patterns of verbose.

Meanwhile the sunshine
beating upon our great earth
doesn't hit our face.

Though if we lay out
all day long bathing in light
we'd surely be toast.

posted : 2004.Sep.22 @ 3.08pm
yes, the sun beats down
the ozone is depleting
my SPF lacks Sad

so, in solitude
soda and mouse each in hand
i live through pixels

and i compose thoughts
digitally depicted
and sent to the pod

posted : 2004.Sep.22 @ 9.27pm
I sit quietly
studiously pondering
making slurpee art

the icey flavour
Banana and strawberry
oh so delicious

the sweet particles
build till they cannot hold up
red and yellow spires

purple straw to lips
I drink deeply, the flavours
rushing in. freezing

my eyes close tightly
mouth open wide in dismay
brainfreeze is so cool

posted : 2004.Sep.24 @ 5.09am
I pluck the string
thick sounds expand
power flows mind to hand

thundrous joy up to heaven
I turn the knob
up to eleven

posted : 2004.Sep.25 @ 5.08am
Rent a car today
Watch the world from the backseat
I love autumn leaves

posted : 2004.Sep.25 @ 7.14pm
I like this thread. Allow me to introduce Tanka ~ a close cousin to haiku.

Tanka: (Closed Form)

Tanka is an older form than Haiku. It marks an occasion or moment. A Tanka is usually divided in 5 syllabic lines consisting of a 5,7,5,7,7 - 31 syllable pattern as the English form. The Japanese form is written in one straight sentence. Some American Tanka’s add many stanza’s to the poem.

For example

The Sick Muse

Last night, I bet on
a bottle and the harbor,
and walked barefoot in
the wet sand. I collected
some seashells and a syringe.

There was half a moon
and at least a dozen stars.
I pulled out the note-
book, but could only tear out
the pages. The words were dead.

I cursed the ocean
and the beauty of the scene.
The dark water surged,
and a sick muse washed ashore,
naked and tangled in kelp.

Her hands were wrinkled,
and her arms were full of holes,
but she had nice legs.
She eyed the syringe and said,
"Oh, do you play with needles?"

She offered to trade
a quick poem for a fix.
She said, "I have worked
with Burroughs and Kerouac,
and I'm not opposed to forms."

She had Japanese
characters tattooed on her
legs. I reached over
and traced one with my finger.
I said, "Make mine a Tanka."

She touched my forehead,
and I understood the moon
and the black water
and the strings of rusty red
lights on the offshore oil wells.

The silver goddess
dances on the ebony
waters, worrying
that the blood of the islands
will give teeth to the ocean.

Her words filled my head,
and she reached for the syringe.
I let her have it.
"I can't write this down," I said,
"It's not even happening.

Don't you see? It's all
as simple as this bottle,
this beach, and the need
to piss. Didn't you ever
get to work with Bukowski?"

She showed me her back
and stabbed herself in the arm.
She said, "Take it or
leave it, but don't try to blame
me. It came out of your head."

She crawled on all fours
into the water, and it
closed tight around her.
I got drunk and watched
the stars burn out. The night tried
to bury me in the sand.

~ V ~


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