Two Senryu? Two Somethings.

Waking a cat --
a flurry of furry fear,
then the look of Death.

-----

My back hurts again.
The weeds in the garden
rejoice!

5/28/15

Opening up windows 
for fresh air, I realize 
I'm scared to go out.

Still Falling Down on the Job: August Daily Blog Challenges 9 - 12

Day 9, Friday. A regret.

With best intentions,
I say I commit.  But no
follow through means---

Day 10, Saturday.  Opening lines from five favourite books, in no particular order.

• ''Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.''

• "There was a boy named Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it."  (Probably the best opening line of a book EVER.)

• "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife."  (A ubiquitous choice, but this is one of everyone's favorite opening lines for a reason.)

• "The first ray of light which illumines the gloom, and converts into a dazzling brilliancy that obscurity in which the earlier history of the public career of the immortal Pickwick would appear to be involved, is derived from the perusal of the following entry in the Transactions of the Pickwick Club, which the editor of these papers feels the highest pleasure in laying before his readers, as a proof of the careful attention, indefatigable assiduity, and nice discrimination, with which his search among the multifarious documents confided to him has been conducted."

• ''If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.''

Day 11, Sunday.  Earliest memory.

Sunlit reddish hair,

sparkling water dotted with

geese and small breadcrumbs.

 

Day 12, Monday.  A ghost story – yours or someone else’s.

 

Glowing demon eyes--

or werewolf-- born of fears

religiously born.

6/21/10

In these hours dark,
your snores are reassuring
and I'm not afraid.

Not a Haiku: Dreamtime (Written for American Poetry Class in 1992/3)

Dreamtime

I,

pulling on black trousers, belt, and shoes emerge man.
It is not worthy of note as I stroll that
I am unsure of the new
shoes,
pants,
belt,
and walk with the quickness
of a fear that reaches up
and taps a woman on the shoulder
like footsteps
following
in the dark.

Part I

I fear the love in
my heart is finite. After
all, I'm not a saint.

Go Ahead!

Feel responsible
for all of it. Feel frozen
by guilt. Go nowhere.