Poet dude, or: Symbol

A ‘Magnetic Poem’ tanka

Wanna try? Click here.

masculine mouth smiles
 that smooth sensuous mustache
 more symbol than style
 sexy face a mystery
 poet dude's alluring ode

Notes

  • Last time, I attempted to write a poem with the ‘Geek Set’ for the first time; and for this poem, I decided to try out the ‘Mustache Set’;
    • I had thought that the ‘Geek Set’ would be easier than the ‘Nature Set’, but – oh boy – was I mistaken about that;
    • And – just now – I discovered that using the ‘Mustache Set’ is even more difficult;
  • I again opted for a tanka, rather than a haiku;
    • Tanka traditionally have a ‘turn’ in the 3rd line, but I didn’t include one in this poem because it turned out to be too much of a challenge for me;
    • In fact, putting together any mustache-themed words at all that sounded anything like a poem was not easy;
  • I searched for a photograph of this particular model smiling (as the poet does in the tanka), but I couldn’t… so I opted for a pensive pose of his instead, which, I decided, is what he looks like when he writes poetry 🧔

Mailwoman, or: Policewoman

My response to d’Verse’s prompt for Haibun Monday:

‘Walk with me down Memory Lane’

I have poor long-term memory, but an amusing recollection came to me as I was perusing my limited memory banks for this exercise.

Between the ages of 1½- and 3-years-old, I lived in Columbus, OH, while my father was a visiting professor at Ohio State University. That was our first home in the USA after we’d left Israel. I hardly remember anything at all from that time, but, strangely, I do recall opening the door to our apartment to receive a letter or package from a mailwoman (I’m pretty sure it was a woman, but I could be wrong about that).

I knew that she was either a mailwoman or a policewoman because she was wearing a blue uniform, but I wanted to be sure so I asked her. She smiled and said, “What do you think?” which made my little self feel silly, as I scanned her and ascertained that she was delivering mail to our home. “A mailwoman,” I responded, feeling rather foolish. It is that feeling of childish foolishness that remains stuck in my mind.

that blue uniform...
woman delivering mail...
not from the police

The haibun above is my response to the d’Verse Haibun Monday prompt.

We were instructed to do a memory exercise BEFORE writing our haibuns:

Get a few pieces of blank paper, have pen in hand, close your eyes for a minute and go back as far as you can in time… to your first memories not triggered by a photograph or by family lore. Maybe it’s what your very first house looked like. Maybe you suddenly remember your dad teaching you to ride your first bike. Or what your yard looked like – or the inside of your very best childhood friend’s house. Now for your haibun, pick one memory you’ve written down and relay it to us.

Digital love dungeon, or: Sexy girl games

A ‘Magnetic Poem’ tanka

Wanna try? Click here.

they uploaded her
to digital love dungeon
from native planet
to play sexy girl games
but she was not humanoid

Notes

  • I decided to take a [temporary] departure from the ‘Nature Set’ of virtual magnets because the words were beginning to feel stale; I selected the ‘Geek Set’ instead;
    • I had thought that this would be easier, but I was wrong;
    • Writing something that sounded poetic with the ‘Geek Set’ was challenging, despite my strong affinity for Dungeons & Dragons and science fiction;
  • I once again opted for a tanka, rather than a haiku, because I enjoyed the challenge last time;
    • Tanka traditionally have a ‘turn’ in the 3rd line, but I didn’t include one in the poem because I couldn’t put together one that flowed well;
  • This tanka was inspired by the image of the flying saucer and cow above; from there, it quickly became silly;
  • The shape of the poem itself is intended to resemble a flying saucer and light beam coming down from it,
    • Actually, I just realized that I’m missing a syllable in the 4th line, which means that this isn’t exactly a tanka… but the shape of the poem works for me 👽

Flow, or: Killin’ it

I’m lettin' go, goin' public;
here I go, goin' for it:
I’m goin' grey, have gone bald, 
(not yet blind or deaf);
I've long gone out of fashion;
am goin' downhill;
but I won’t go out softly;
phat flow's 
goin'... 
in... 
for the kill! 🎯

The above poem is my take on d’Verse’s Quadrille challenge #122.

The quadrille is simply a poem of 44 words (excluding the title), and it can take any form. This week’s challenge was to use the word “go” in a quadrille.

Vertical puddle, or: Snow

My first rispetto

T'wards snow in Jerusalem I feel cold,
Slip-sloshing through this dirty wet hassle;
I'd much prefer to stay locked in my hold,
Where I'm king of my dry, humble castle

Israelites tend to find snow exciting,
But my fingers feel stiff while I'm writing.
Such commotion would a Russian befuddle ~
What's so great 'bout a vertical puddle? 

Jerusalem had its first snowfall in six years the night before last, and I am excited 🙄

Zombie, or: Brainchild

‘Let’s have fun, guys!’ – a d’Verse poetics prompt

Think, think
Lost in thought I
Distractedly pluck
A button

From my mind
Pop it into my mouth
Chew it pensively
As more sprout

From my brain
Pushing out of
My twisting sulci
They spread

Above my gyri
King oysters proliferate
I gather them all with
Hedgehogs

Burrowing
Through my cranium
Noticing orange
Chicken

Of the woods
And shaggy lion's manes
Pushing through my ear
Canals

As puffballs
Balloon out across
My scalp and forehead
My beard

Full of black
Trumpets and wood
Blewits spreading up
My tender cheeks

My eyeballs
Bursting with huge
Portobellos extending
Over my face

Frustrated I
Sigh shiitake! Well, 
At least they are all
Edible

d’Verse

At d’Verse, we were asked to have some fun with fungi, as the starting point for our poems.

And… I can honestly say that I had fun… and I am a guy.

Two teeth, or: A reminder

My 6-year-old lost two teeth in one day;
and, as always, she had something to say.
To her father the blogger,
she said: Might this not augur
a sweet poem about me- sans cliché?

Dedicated with love to my precious little daughter, who asked me to write a poem on the occasion of her losing two teeth last Friday and then repeated her request to me again several days later (an hour ago).