~~Haiku River~~

[poeticidolhost]

who ate the angler!

angler cast his shrimp
shrimp devoured by flounder
both are evening meals...

 

[My Erotic Trail]

angler cast his shrimp
shrimp devoured by flounder
both are evening meals...

I love to flounder
in a tastey morsel
of flounder


mmmm, one of my favorite meals <grin
I love to catch them for they are a fight and a half
but I also enjoy the fine art of 'gigging'

 

[drown]

hence;
we jump the shark.

is there an eight in haiku?

not mine.
(pause pause pause)

 

[Sex and Death]

hence;
we jump the shark.

is there an eight in haiku?

not mine.
(pause pause pause)

Now there is.

writing about plums -
the juice of my pen made words -
hungry, I ate them

 

[drown]

cummings and goings;

so much depends upon...
voice

derived from within

 

[My Erotic Trail]

cummings and goings;

so much depends upon...
voice

derived from within

sex&death

Now there is.

writing about plums -
the juice of my pen made words -
hungry, I ate them

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

from within
plum words spring forth
nibbling poetry

 

[Sex and Death]

Originally Posted by drown

cummings and goings;
so much depends upon...
voice derived from within


sex&death:
Now there is.

writing about plums -
the juice of my pen made words -
hungry, I ate them

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

from within
plum words spring forth
nibbling poetry

in the 4th chamber --
beating its hidden voice within,
my nom de plum

 

[My Erotic Trail]

in the 4th chamber --
beating its hidden voice within,
my nom de plum

in the chamber
a plum tree stands tall
in a Bonsai bowl

 

[My Erotic Trail]

a spider's web
heavy with morning dew
hangs in time

 

[Sex and Death]

in the chamber
a plum tree stands tall
in a Bonsai bowl

yes, what a plum -- strike! --
she makes strange shoes look good
at the Bonsai Bowl

 

[Sex and Death]

a spider's web
heavy with morning dew
hangs in time

glistening belly --
she escapes the sun
under a net of fishes

 

[My Erotic Trail]

glistening belly --
she escapes the sun
under a net of fishes

sane drifts aimless
clinging to a broken stump
still fishing

 

[Sex and Death]

sane drifts aimless
clinging to a broken stump
still fishing

broken stump --
clinging moss --
a blue cornflower

 

[My Erotic Trail]

broken stump --
clinging moss --
a blue cornflower

a field of corn
on the river's edge, stands
in flowered shoes

 

[My Erotic Trail]

golden river
morning spawns
drifting along

 

[bluerains]

sky clouds bending low
entangling with treetops
gaia taps her roots

 

[bluerains]

some of my favs..

Shiki (1866-1902)

By the ruined mansion,
Fowls roaming
Among the hibiscus
The dead body
Of a trodden-on crab,
This autumn morning

Fallen leaves
Come flying from elsewhere:
Autumn is ending.

Hav

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Shiki (1866-1902)

By the ruined mansion,
Fowls roaming
Among the hibiscus
The dead body
Of a trodden-on crab,
This autumn morning

Fallen leaves
Come flying from elsewhere:
Autumn is ending.

Hav

ahhhh, sunday spice <grin
thanks blue, very inspiring

 

[Sex and Death]

a field of corn
on the river's edge, stands
in flowered shoes

crows on the stalks, in
the furrows of my brow
remember my death

 

[Sex and Death]

golden river
morning spawns
drifting along

morning dawns --
the wet sun drifts west
to meet me

 

[Sex and Death]

sky clouds bending low
entangling with treetops
gaia taps her roots

wild rose flowers
bathed in webs
turn east, mourning

 

[Sex and Death]

Shiki (1866-1902)

By the ruined mansion,
Fowls roaming
Among the hibiscus
The dead body
Of a trodden-on crab,
This autumn morning

Fallen leaves
Come flying from elsewhere:
Autumn is ending.

Hav

my father's hands
red from picking --
no one sees the end of autumn

 

[wildsweetone]

my father's hands
red from picking --
no one sees the end of autumn

.
.
.

dead leaf
in the storm -
water drain
.
.
.

autumn has begun, here.

 

[Sex and Death]

.
.
.

dead leaf
in the storm -
water drain
.
.
.

autumn has begun, here.

on the wind --
the smell of autumn
wakes me to my death




spring is beginning here...don't know why I feel sad this time of year...autumn makes me feel alive

 

[wildsweetone]

on the wind --
the smell of autumn
wakes me to my death




spring is beginning here...don't know why I feel sad this time of year...autumn makes me feel alive

.
.
.

wind gust
leaves roll up the street -
play time

.
.
.