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: #1

Micropoetry Month I’m kicking off the Nov 2017-Micropoetry Month with a couple of modern haiku/senryu. If the poems or the theme or just the idea of micropoetry inspires you, then do join in by sharing your poems in the comment section or adding a link to your poem using the Mister Linky widget. Or just drop in, read and say hello!


dark monsoon night-
a drunken moon
slips on the balcony tiles


first light,
in my bed a sleeping moon
and an empty bottle of wine

Gasping Sun

I want to argue for 
the incomplete,
the fraction where that defiant part
teeters over the buried whole,

see, absolute love is an awkward metaphor for faith,
leave the unconditional to the tremble
in Rumi’s song,
to the unsmiling gods that demand submission,
what I have is just a little adoration,
a ninth day moon,
a torn-off corner of sky,
and this half empty glass of wine,
still enough to drown the entire sun,
maybe we can negotiate,
a line or two of this verse is yours 
if you can find its eyes meeting yours,
like mirror shards,
enough for a glance, enough for a lifetime,
enough for a song,
drink deep then,
a smear of night, a taste of love,
a broken poem
and the warmth of a gasping sun,
see how a bit of sky seduces
all your earth.

The Trouble with Tanka-4

bleached driftwood
on the empty beach
and the white, white wind,
and the surf repeating to the sand
all those things you never said


stars glow like embers in your eyes,
you snuggle up to the arched hip
of the crescent moon-
the sky laughs softly,
how could I have believed you were mine?


leaves scatter
on marble tombs,
there’s a cold wind out tonight,
the cemetery gate still creaks, love,
come, bring the quiet and the wine

Fujiwara no Teika’s Tanka Technique 4: Conviction of feeling – ushintei, in which the poet approaches “the art with the utmost seriousness and concentration” and the speaker’s feelings pervade the imagery and rhetoric of the poem.
The Trouble with Tanka-3

Saving Andromeda

Image credit

star-crossed innocence
looks up at the ephemeral sky
connecting the dots

star-crossed innocence
weeps for the waning moon
wait just one more night

the silver haired sea
looks up at the ephemeral sky
waves a star stained hand

tales of stars and gods
twinkling in your purple wine
connecting the dots


Image Credit
A troiku (variation) for Carpe Diem Haiku Kai where the prompt is the fabulous Greek myth of Andromeda.

The Roses Tonight

the roses tonight
trembling in the cool spring breeze
huddled together

huddled together
reading Rumi by candlelight
tasting the wine

tasting the wine
in the throat of the melting sky
burgundy sunset

burgundy sunset
smeared in your brooding eyes
tugging at your smile

tugging at your smile
perfumed verses from her lips
the roses tonight


Late February air.
Early summer
tasting like stale wine
in its parched mouth;
holding its warm, acerbic breath
for the first mango
to ripen.

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