Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #20

Micropoetry MonthWhile I prefer to break away from the 5-7-5 scheme and other traditional haiku rules, I still think haiku or senryu (in its modern avatar) should seize the essence of a moment anchored in the close observation of nature. This is truly the hardest form of poetry to get right- to be simple yet profound, layered yet obvious, beautiful yet utterly truthful.


contrary to the summer rain
this endless waiting


pleated morning
she hides my unfinished dreams
in her folds


mangled sky
together we watch 
orange tulips filling with rain

Share your haiku or any other form of micropoetry using comments or Mister Linky!


Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #19

Micropoetry MonthAt CDHK this month, the prompts are based on the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, his exceptional quatrains providing inspiration for beautiful micropoetry. If you like Haiku and Tanka, CDHK is a must-visit site wonderfully hosted by Kristjaan Panneman.

Writing about the love of the eternal beloved that fills his heart like a cup of wine, leading to an intoxicated union in which self is annihilated and faith transcends to the purest level, the quatrains explore all aspects of the path to realisation through heightened states of mystical/ metaphysical love.

The beauty of the quatrain (4 lines with an AABA rhyme) comes from the simple experiences of the manifest world in the larger quest for union with the eternal truth.


but the wine you poured into the womb of the night
has turned sinful black this morning’s blight,
who counted those truths we told yesterday, love,
my cup sits empty in your tavern’s darkened light

Beyond masters like Khayyam or Jami, the quatrain has been used by so many others, including Frost, with varying rhyme patterns.


push aside this veil of autumn leaves
from winter’s snow paled face
like the widowed moon her cold heart grieves
for those sun kissed halcyon days


dark clouds fill the Jamuna deep,
these wretched maidens no longer sleep,
why do they mourn your leaving, O Krishna,
when Radha does not weep.

Try a quatrain or any other form of micropoetry and share using comments or Mister Linky!



Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #18

Micropoetry MonthYesterday’s experiment with tanka impels me  to take it further with ‘Tanka Prose’. Like a haibun but with a signature tanka instead of a haiku, this is an excellent form to stretch one’s imagination and word crafting skills even further.

Try this or any other form of micropoetry and share using comments or Mister Linky.

Without Words

For days we climbed together. Sometimes they disappeared into the mist ahead, sometimes they lingered on the edges. I could always hear their whispered voices, even as the sky slipped closer. But now the words are gone and I have been orphaned by the need to speak. In their soundless absence, the river is just one ceaseless motion, the moon in it is just a point of reflection and this moment is both big enough to fill the universe and small enough to tremble as the cold wind rushes by. What will the birds call me if I do not have a name?

on the other side
of the horizon-
the eagle’s wing
dips into
the silent dark


Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #17

Micropoetry MonthA couple of tanka this Friday morning!
The beauty of tanka comes from the juxtaposition of disparate images, the gentle twist, the tug of emotion.

Try a tanka or two! Share your own micropoetry using comments or Mister Linky.


candles and flowers,
an impromptu memorial
where the horror struck-
one goodbye on a page ripped
from a new school book


the moon and I
like strangers
in an elevator-
trying not to look
at each other


Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #16

Micropoetry MonthSeems like a Shadorma kind of morning! If you’re new to the form, it is a six line poem following the 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllable count.
Give it a shot or share any micropoem using comments or Mister Linky.



evening train
for a little while
it was us
and the sun
and our words briefly touching
through the dark tunnels


in his bag
buried in a book
about birds
and fairies
a bent origami crane
that would never fly


Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #15

Micropoetry MonthSome mornings, a random headline catches your eye and spreads itself out in neat lines into a poem…all by itself. Of course, on other days the words just stare back at you while your muse leaves in a huff, banging the door shut behind her.

This one was in response to something that popped up in the news about yet another discovery in outer space.

Share your micropoetry- in any form- using comments or Mister Linky. If a headline inspires you, let it!

they say they discovered something recently, a
planet, a dwarf, a failed star (nomenclature has

to be irrelevant beyond a few thousand light years),
bigger than Jupiter, how colossal is Jupiter, how

mammoth is this galaxy, is there another at the end
of this gargantuan universe. See, the words I have for

‘big’ are only as large as my mind will allow, even
its wonder is constrained by the size of its own

incomprehension, this is the mind, you have to
understand, that keeps its cosmic incredulity, its

moons and meteors and gilt edged heavens in a safely
distant sky so that it can still believe I am significant.



Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #14

Micropoetry MonthRevisiting the Cherita today, a six line story-poem form invented by Ai-Li. If you haven’t tried it before, it is broken into three verses, the first verse has 1 line, the second has 2 and the third has 3.

Tell a story, write a poem… share using comments or Mister Linky. If you wish, try using the words monk, dragonfly and rain in your poem.


the old monk’s begging bowl

half filled with
morning rain

a dragonfly
hovers in the
half emptiness


Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #13

Micropoetry MonthSome ekphrastic poetry today.  Add to the thousand words the picture already says! Find an image that inspires you and write about it using any form of micropoetry. Share your poem using comments or Mister Linky.

This poem was just published at  Visual Verse (Chapter 1 of Vol 5, Nov 2017).


I haggled like a regular
at a Turkish bazaar,
who pays top rate
for used things anyway,
see that verdigris
inching around the bottom?
He gave it to me in the end
in an oily brown paper bag,
the smell of the past
still trapped in it.
It wasn’t until later,
the wine still warm in my hand,
the moon in my throat,
that I let the tears fall.
After all, alone can be lonely
even in the company
of a battered
half-price soul.


Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #12

Micropoetry MonthHaibun is a wonderful style because lets you combine prose and poetry in a beautifully fluid way. Basho, the master, wrote it in such a simple, effortless style making his work timeless.
I have two rules for myself. 1. Keep the prose short. 2. The haiku should derive from the prose without being repetitive in word or content.

Write your own haibun or any other form of micropoetry and share using comments or good old Mister Linky!

It was the kind of morning that had all the answers – the square of anticipation, the differential of despondency, the coefficient of human failure. Hanging from the sky like a picture frame behind which we had once hidden the dark, its colours dissolving into sunshine streams, its birds flying in formation beyond its corners. It was the kind of morning that should dawn after a night like that. After you left, after I stayed, after I gathered the pieces, not knowing if they could ever be put back together again. The improbability of hope.

shrinking dusk
the lone raven steals
the last of the light


Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #11

Micropoetry MonthI’ve never attempted Renga before and I don’t know many of its intricate rules! Renga is traditionally composed by two or more poets, with a three line verse offered by one (what became standalone haiku subsequently) followed by a 2 line response by another. Written alone, it is called Solo Renga and the single poet takes on both roles.

The response usually derives its theme from the previous verse and then incorporates a shift, so the whole chain becomes fluid and while centered around one idea, keeps moving and creating new images. The five lines of verse and response (the precursor of the tanka) should fit in a way that the two lines in the middle work well with both the preceding and succeeding verse…though that, I suppose, requires some serious expertise!

Here’s my shot at Solo Renga. Share your micropoem in this or any other form using comments or Mister Linky. Start your own renga or feel free to pick up where this one stops!

Those Renga Nights

coy moon
she holds the passing mist
to her naked breast

trapped between half-light and day
a harlot, a moan, a lover

creaking garden gate-
tonight, I fear,
it’s just the wind

only the stars heard him arrive
the sun was sleeping when he left

but look how they smile-
the white lilies rest
like sated paramours

the dervish whirls in the silver dark
stirring the attar of roses

broken wine jar
people will know you, love,
when the flowers bloom

what is a tree, what is a flower
but a tree, but a flower