Friday, January 25, 2013

Haiku Friday: Poetry about Poets!


As Renee has reminded me, today is the birthday of Scottish poet Robert Burns, sometimes called the "Ploughman Poet," since he honed his language skills while tending the family farm. His best known poem is probably "A Red, Red Rose:"

O my Luve's like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve's like the melodie
That’s sweetly play'd in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry:

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee well, my only Luve
And fare thee well, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.


So, my friends, let's haiku about our favorite poets, be they Shakespeare or Bob Dylan.

Here is mine:

Inauguration;
Kennedy listens, leans in,
To hear Robert Frost.

Now it is your turn! Make your haiku about 5 syllables/7 syllables/5 syllables, and the most corpulent poem gets a bio here on Monday!

21 comments:

  1. Anonymous8:53 AM

    Wrong poet, Osler!
    That's C. Montgomery Burns,
    Rich odd son of Yale.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thorin, baritone:
    Longing for a homeland lost,
    Tolkien's poem in prose.

    (Richard Armitage
    could sing me a lullaby
    any night he likes!)

    ReplyDelete
  3. We don't require sleep
    When we're together, words come
    When he's gone: nothing.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Eloquent voice speaks
    syllabic, annunciates
    A Caged Bird Sings ~ sweet

    ReplyDelete
  5. Words to HEAR, not read.
    Voice flowing. Phenomenal
    Woman: That’s Maya.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Dallas Defense Attorney2:55 PM

    Candy is dandy
    but liquor is quicker said
    a poet named Nash

    also said women
    would rather be right than be reasonable. I

    applaud anyone
    who is famous for sharing
    my thoughts exactly

    ReplyDelete
  7. Fiona the Maid(Or so she says)5:06 PM

    Tae Robin who lo'ed Nature so,
    And ladies far surpassin'
    For just a touch o'yer bonny lips
    I'll ignore the ither lasses.

    Och,Professor! I cannae write a haiku t'day.

    ReplyDelete
  8. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Small priest limned language
    Crimson Glory,Hallelus
    Him,Jesus,Lord.




    Of English poet,Gerard Manley Hopkins.

    ReplyDelete
  10. In the greenhouse he
    Spied Geranium leaves,hands
    Like hearts held aloft.

    Or things small,wriggling
    They held his eye.His dad
    Waltzed him in kitchens.

    University
    Showed him other breathtaking
    Creatures.Legs of She.OOOOOOOOOOh.

    He woke to sleep and
    Took his waking slow.Felt his
    Fate.Drowned.In the Sound.

    Of American poet:Theodore Roethke.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Connemara, where
    the Chikaming herd still lives
    without Carl Sandburg.

    ReplyDelete
  12. In simple white she
    Stood witness to life and death
    Bobbolinks sang psalms

    She kept herself away
    From the fray of our clamor...
    To say it sly-soft.

    Emily,"what the
    Hell are you saying?" I cry.
    She winged runs ahead.

    So,I must read and
    Read again and keep my tired
    Eyes keen for mystics.

    Of Emily Dickinson.

    ReplyDelete
  13. yours, mark, reminded me of RFK's public eulogy of MLK:

    MLK is gone.
    Misquoted Aeschylus, but
    wisdom through God's (awful)grace.


    the entire poem itself is one of my favorites, even as misquoted by RFK.

    ReplyDelete
  14. Pablo Neruda,
    writing the saddest verses,
    stars twinkle and shine.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Twixt sea and mountains
    Edna St. Vincent Millay
    Rose up. A Mainer.

    ReplyDelete
  16. Jack! Jack! Kerouac!
    On the road. Ain't lookin' back.
    Searchin' boys and girls.

    ReplyDelete
  17. Geoffrey the Mustang Boy3:32 PM

    Robert Service

    Now,there's a galoot--
    Cold poetry,you Cowboys...
    Tough Miners,man's men

    Huskies,hunger,sleds
    No girlie pursuits,but rough
    Work in the wild.

    You recite his stuff
    Your hidehair stands up,wolf's Lone voice in the wind.

    ReplyDelete
  18. Mustang's Sally3:48 PM

    Syvia Plath

    Listen,Geoffrey--

    You wimp.Think you got
    It rough? Sylvia's dad wuz
    A Nazi. Cry Baby!

    And she married the
    SS of Critics.So she
    Baked her head.Dammit!

    Just seemed easier
    Than dealing with that English
    Snobjerk.Now she rests.

    But I remember
    About "A Black Rook in Rain"
    Which so described God...!

    Made me want to call
    Her out of the oven.WAIT!!
    Sylvie,I Love You.

    ReplyDelete
  19. Lily of the Valley9:58 AM

    WALT WHITMAN

    America.the
    Words gushed from him and flowed
    like
    Holy water.Freed verse.

    ReplyDelete
  20. Medievalist--I challenge you to pen a haiku in Spanish and/or English about Neruda's love poems.In love with Neruda,and wish I could read him in Spanish.Afterall,Spanish is the "loving tongue."

    ReplyDelete
  21. Her body lush orchid
    In your hands,you swam
    Down a blood wine river

    Broke thru an otter
    Her hair furred your arm,burning:
    Talisman of faith,fate.

    For a time she was
    Your shadow self,catacomb
    Arisen,painted your longing.

    You were always seeking,
    Never finding,always lost,
    You strangled her desire.

    So what was left then?
    Vanilla blossoms swinging in trees
    The fragrance of her leaving.

    ReplyDelete