Eyes, Penciled in Blue
Stare at the Man in the Moon
Weeping for Lost Days
Thanks to Putting My Feet in the Dirt for the inspiration: June 18 Writing Prompt
Blue Moon
Category: Haiku & Other Poetry
It’s Haiku Time Again!
Sometimes when my anger and frustration over the state of the world gets to me, I write haikus. They soothe me for some crazy reason. So here’s my latest. Enjoy. Despair. Rage Against the machine.
HAIKU TO THE END (IN THREE PARTS)
Part One
He, as a False King
Dictates False Flag Bows to He
Democracy Weeps
Part Two
A Nation Cries Foul
A Fox Cries Victim to Its Prey
Democracy Flops
Part Three
A World Looks Aghast
A Man Child Rages and Sulks
Democracy Dies
Poem in your Pocket
Today is National Poem in Your Pocket Day. I love the idea! I don’t write poetry (except for the occasional silly haiku) but I’m often inspired by other people’s work. So I’m sharing a poem by a poet I just discovered: Genevieve Taggard. Ms. Magazine did a piece on her last week. In it, Julie Enszer notes that Taggard (who was born in 1894) was “fierce feminist” and her writing, like the poem The Quiet Woman, sometimes “exposes the physical and sexual degradations that women endure as well as offering visions of feminist futures.” I’m carrying this piece in my pocket today. It reminds me of the universality of women’s experiences across space and time. It moved me.
The Quiet Woman
I will defy you down until my death
With cold body, indrawn breath;
Terrible and cruel I will move with you
Like a surly tiger. If you knew
Why I am shaken, if fond you could see
All the caged arrogance in me,
You would not lean so boyishly, so bold,
To kiss my body, quivering and cold.
Haiku to Pork: The Pig Abides
Yesterday was National Haiku Day. I missed it. Missing it sucks because I love a good haiku. I’m not saying that I write good haikus, but I do like to write them. Because it’s my blog, I get to do what I want so I’m giving myself a mulligan. I think that’s a thing, a mulligan, like a do-over. Right? So in honor of National Haiku Day, I give you…
“Haiku to Pork: The Pig Abides in Four Parts”
#1
Sadly, A Day Late
But Love for the Pig Abides
So, Haiku to Pork
#2
Pig in the Window
Ponders a life as bacon
Puts on a condom
#3
Pig in the window
Contemplates possible paths
Picks life as a ham
#4
The pig in the door
Disturbs the children at play
What’s for dinner? Pork.
A Fable for Our Times: A Girl and the Pig in the Window
I started writing this over a year ago. (I believe it was in the week or two after his election.) I got stuck in the middle and put it aside because I didn’t know how to finish it. Then we moved and it got forgotten until this week when I was cleaning out some old drop box files. This time the end seemed to write itself. It’s an odd little poem / not poem but I like it. Maybe you will too.
A Fable for Our Times: A Girl and the Pig in the Window
One day the girl passed by a pig in the window.
The pig snorted and panted and wriggled as he stared through the glass and just as she passed he yelled: you’ve got a nice ass.
The girl thought to herself: why does that pig make those noises when I pass by his window? And why do I feel like I must let it pass?
Another day the girl passed by a pig in the window.
The pig snorted and panted and wriggled as he stared through the glass and just as she passed he yelled: you’d be pretty if only you’d smile!
The girl thought to herself: why does that pig make those noises when I pass by his window? And why do his words make feel so dirty and vile?
Another week the girl passed by a pig in the window.
The pig snorted and panted and wriggled as he stared through the glass and just as she passed he yelled: What the hell bitch – think you’re too good to even get a hello!
The girl thought to herself: why does the pig make those noises when I pass by his window? And why do I feel like I can’t just yell NO?
Another month the girl passed by a pig in the window.
The pig snorted and panted and wriggled as he stared through the glass and just as she passed he yelled: Fuck you! You’re a fat ugly cunt!
The girl thought to herself: why does the pig make those noises when I pass by his window? And I wonder, am I alone as I contend with his grunt?
Another year the girl passed by the pig in the window.
The pig snorted and panted and wriggled as he stared through the glass and just as she passed he yelled: I’m sorry you’re upset. You misunderstand. I’m really a nice guy.
But this time the girl brought sisters-in-arms and they all carried signs. #MeToo and #YesAllPigs and #TimesUpForYourKind. She no longer just thought to herself. Or felt all alone. Instead she exclaimed out loud to the world: Your time is over! All pigs must fry!
And as they passed by, for the first time in years, she walked with confidence and held her head high.
Tina Stewart Brakebill 