Haiku — A Veteran Walks Away

AF Korea

Charley in Korea

my service over
casting my helmet aside
a cricket moves in

a cast-off helmet
long walk to civilian life
hear the cricket sing


Posted to Frank J. Tassone’s Haikai Challenge #7.






It’s never about birds in poetry;
it is about our inadequate,
marrow-filled bones that
weigh us down
reminding us of the immediacy
of the dust.

 It’s never about stars in poetry;
it is about our stars spouting
neon pulses and xenon gas,
LED, HID, blue light,
street light, security light flooding
our city coffin.

It’s never about trees in poetry…
It’s never about silences in poetry…

It’s never about… reality.


Okay, blame Nosaint Augustine!  After he wrote one of the many great completions of Jilly’s Challenge poem, he said he was waiting for me to do one.  Careful what you ask for, people!

Paean to My Love






“She walks in beauty like the night”
She’s won my heart not just by sight!
She’s won my heart it’s hers to keep.
She fills my heart awake, asleep!


Posted to dVerse Poets Pub for Meeting the Bar.  Frank Hubeny, our host has asked for “Odes, Poems of Praise.”  Technically this might not fill the bill as an ode, but it’s as close as I’m likely to get tonight (it’s a wonder I’m able to type coherently!).

I’m also posting this to Jilly’s November Casting Bricks Challenge as a half-poem challenge.  The meter, rhyme scheme, and syllable count are fairly straight-forward.  However, if you decide to take on the challenge — you are in the driver’s seat.  And this baby handles tight corners and twists, as well as off-road adventures.


Wit and Wing


A cage of ignorance
has built itself around
our children.

Too many live
in a warm comfort,
freely lounging
on sofas –
thoughtless sofas of respite.

Oh, but those who bend
bars by wit, who refuse
the lazing charms;
they are beating
past earth’s dull pull,
the thermals of knowledge!

These are the ones I watch
of a day,
feeling my soul rise
and course
with them.


The Egyptologists’ Rag


Discovered a lost chamber using cosmic rays
at the Great Pyramid of Giza!

The mummy they uncovered was out of breath
a bandage bound old wheeza!

Say, Hey nonny nonny!

Fiddle dee dah, fiddle dee dee!

Kick it!

Bandage bound old wheeza – in Giza!


Breaking news… 4000 years in the making!  This is actually true (click the photo caption for the story).

Posted at dVerse Poets Pub for Quadrille night.


A Wit’s Proper End

Writing out of the Hole

Artwork by Ralph Steadman, posted on Pinterest


Now I find myself
in a hole I am writing
myself out of.

A poet opened
a window where I eat breakfast
and let irony in.

It blew in gales
of obscure metaphors leaving me
gasping for verbs…
for heart connectors.

My wiring is frying —
I am trying to dig myself
out of this mess with a pen
…with a pen.

Aye, with my wits.

Whosoever Drinketh

Woman At the Well

various sources


[Here comes she, bearing her plight.]

(A man!  Will his words carry sugar
as does all the rest?)

[She suffers more than she needs.
Her exclusion from the throng
is her own guilt.]

(A Jew!  Why is he waiting here,
and at this hour?)

[Her heart remains open – Thank
you, Father!]

(I cannot face him.  He must know
that I am an outcast.  Perhaps
if I ignore him.)

[She cannot know that I am here
to bring her back into the world
of the living.]

(Maybe he will ignore me.)

“Will you give me some water?”


Posted on Poetic Asides in response to the prompt, “Whosoever __________.”

Also posted as a half-poem on Jilly’s November Casting Bricks Challenge.   Feel free to run… or walk with this however you see fit (I’m not easily offended; trust me!).