by Brad Nelson 9/24/17
I had promised Gibblet a haiku contest or exhibition of some sort way back when. Well, the coming of fall seems as good a time as any to dust off our creative, touchy-feely muscles.
Any form of poetry will be accepted. The best of it that you post in the comments section I will add to this article itself (but I won’t do you the indignity of deleting it from the comments if it doesn’t cut muster).
Don’t feel bad if you don’t make the cut. I’ll play no favorites. And I trust that Gibblet is of the type who doesn’t bruise easily in this regard. Creative people have to be able to face editorial and cultural rejection. (Or else what fun would it be to be an iconoclast?). But rejection is the juice that drives us onto better efforts.
So I’ll start with a haiku, a hanging fastball…one you can easily surpass. But as I said, any form of poetry, of any length, is acceptable. And although Autumn is the general theme, you may certainly loosely apply it.
Brad’s autumn garden
Fall of fruit and sanity
In the third person
Untitled, by Gibblet
The leaves, so welcomed in the spring
With freshness in their newborn dew
Now give way to branches bare
To show again the distant view
Come see the dark and angry sky
That rumbles over mountain green
To rain it’s life on forests dry
‘Till winter’s drip in puddles seen
Gray days linger ever long
Birds are scarce and seldom sing
For sky, and leaf, and bird I wait
To signal once again, “It’s Spring”
Trump Raking, by Kung Fu Zu
Cool crisp evenings
Foliage falling down
Dance upon the ground
Such beauty is passing
Causes our hearts to break
But those damn leaves
Are a bitch to rake.
Wild Web, by Gibblet
Outside in my socks
Peaceful…..walk through spider web
Lots of wild flailing
Earthquakes and Ham, by Pat Tarzwell
Rain bring the green
And mold unseen
My ground is Gravel and rocks
It holds water like old socks
Floods for me, they may not come
But if the earthquakes, we’ll be undone.
Brad is editor and chief disorganizer of StubbornThings.
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