For breakfast I eat up my vowels, my a e i o u, to which I add from consonants a fricative or two;
After that I move my bowels then write as poets do, and frequently am quite surprised to feel a trill come through.
After that I move my bowels then write as poets do, and frequently am quite surprised to feel a trill come through.
Tuesday, 29 May 2012
Take Five
Take Five: Best Contemporary Tanka, Volume 4 is now out (and includes my Tanka 'saturday dad', first published in Simply Haiku).
Monday, 28 May 2012
Thursday, 24 May 2012
Saturday, 12 May 2012
Friday, 11 May 2012
Blockhead
A motley fool in well-worn rags,
rip-torn and bejewelled
in bells and baubles,
rides by astride his hobbyhorse:
“I am”, he cries, “a thing of wood,
a Marotte stick that has no feeling.
The Tree of Life’s own loggerhead
with seventy-seven buds, all sprouted.”
“I have no wants of this world
and laugh at its prince. I drink his dregs
and dance his jigs, for they mean
nothing to me.”
“Let the Devil play his trump.
I shall play the Fool for Christ --
and Shakespeare too --
for both know I know nought.”
With one foot bare and one foot shoed
he canters down the ciphered trail:
"Tarry 'til I come again", echoes
through the Christ cursed years.
Labels:
Curse of Christ,
Devil,
Fool,
Fool for Christ,
Hobbyhorse,
Marotte,
Poem,
Poetry,
Shakespeare,
Tarocch,
Tarot,
Tree of Life,
Wandering Jew
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