Posts Tagged ‘twitter’

Or maybe I should have said “weak, too” because it really does feel like the week’s worth of ‘ku have been on the sorta lame side. I have reasons, excuses, what-have-you, but the bottom line is, sometimes, life is hard and you can’t always do everything.

April 6
Bunnies, kittens, and balls. What could be sweeter? Maybe in someone else’s poems…

chocolate bunnies / their happy faces taunt me / to ruin easter

hey ball-throwing boy! / those balls you lost on the roof? / they stay there by choice

to locate a cat / walk to the nearest kitchen / and open a can

April 7
Only the one today.

the optimist sees / half- full ice cream bowls and thinks / “now there’s room for more!”

April 8
Sad day: no ‘ku.

April 9
I was actually quite pleased with the Star Wars tongue twister. Too obscure?

man thinks he’s so smart / peeling bananas stem-first / monkeys know better

the bullied robot / yanked out his batteries when / the called him human

see the sickly sith / the sixth swift sea-sick sith to / sail sith-thick seas

April 10
Tuesday was a fairly dark day if I recall correctly.

gainful employment / letting others put a price / on your existence

still you seduce me / your broken spine, your dog ears / your skin foxed with age

the sun and the moon / my body begging for sleep / my brain waking up

April 11
Cats again! Youth versus old age! Creepy spiders!

persistence appears / each morning in the shape of / cats howling for food

springtime renewal / for the young; for us old folks / it’s refurbishment

spiders are watching / from invisible outposts / in darkened corners

April 12
Any day I can combine haiku with a pun is a good day.

with the facts of life / people talk of birds and bees / which gender is which?

the fallen squirrel / used the power line highways / death came as a shock

when the rains come down / the dream whisperers appear / like headstone rubbings

All over the place again, right? Looks like I’m down four haiku if I still want to reach my month-end goal of 99, provided I can stay on top of things the rest of the month.

I got a few retweets this week, but I also got my first replyku from Sarah Rettger to my April 10th poem about employment.

gainful employment / totally necessary / for paying my bills


Alright, enough of this kufoolery. It’s Poetry Friday and Anastasia has this week’s roundup over at Booktalking. And if you want to catch the twitku as they fall during the week, or care to engage in a conversation entirely in 5-7-5, the Twitter handle is @delzey.


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Yeah, that’s a little tag-heavy a post title.

Okay!  So it’s April Fools Day and the beginning of National Poetry Month (#npm) here in the United States (elsewhere I think National Poetry Month is in October, but no matter).  It’s also Poetry Friday on the Internets so I fully expect there to be an explosion of meter and verse all over the place.

For the third year running I’ll be tweeting at least one original haiku (or #twitku) a day.  I read recently about this “new trend” of poetry on Twitter called twaiku, like hundreds and thousands of other people haven’t been doing it for some time.  Harumph.  Anyway, last year I had a former facebook friend (the aren’t a former friend, I was formerly on facebook) suggest I add a challenge and write an original limerick every day as well.  Foolishly, I didn’t think that was challenge enough and attempted to make all the limericks about monsters or nautical.  Yeah, that got tough after a couple days.

This year I’m simplifying things and just going with the twitku.  With a theme.  The blues.  I’m wondering if it’s possible to make haiku into mini blues songs, like this:

you got to work through
every other color first
then you can sing blues

Which sort of work if you want to hum a little blues riff in your head while reading it.  You’ve got to imagine maybe Etta James voice, or Muddy Waters.  I was also thinking about the blues in a more general sense, like what it might feel like for other people or things to get the blues. Like a crustacean for example:

the hermit crab snaps
his briny beat-a-be-bop~
we collect his shell

I don’t know what this fascination I have with the sea is all about.

I also was thinking of maybe trying to revive another form of Twitter poetry this month as well, what I call the Burma Shave poem. Burma-Shave was a popular shaving product in the early to mid 20th century that used a series of roadside signs across the country to advertise.  As you drove there would be four red signs with white lettering (usually) utilizing a rhyme scheme of ABCB followed by the name of the product.  Like this:

Train approaching / Whistle squealing / Stop / Avoid that run-down feeling / Burma-Shave

Or maybe it’s just a couplet spread across several placards for ease of roadside reading. I remember the first time I ever saw one of the few remaining roadside poems (though I don’t actually remember the verse) because I was able to say “Hey! I saw one of those poems in a bathroom once!” Naturally, I spoke without thinking because I was asked to repeat the poem which I then realized I should have kept to myself:

Be like dad / Not Like Sis / Lift the lid / When you piss

I now realize this was probably some old codger’s way of training us youngsters a little public bathroom etiquette, in the grand (and long lost) tradition of toilet stall poetry. So while I hope to preserve the spirit of these Burma Shave verses I hope to make them a little more relevant

Social networks! / Make new friends! / Alienation / Never ends!

Of course, when I post these on Twitter I follow them with the #burmashavepoem so that I don’t lose that full-stop feeling from the original.

I know lots of people have lots of goodness planned for the month, and this is what I’ll be up to.  It would be swell if you followed along on Twitter (@delzey) but if that’s not your thing I’ll be rounding up my weekly poetic tweets here on Poetry Friday.

Speaking of, for more of that poetic goodness I mentioned, why not head on over to The Poem Farm where Amy is not only hosting this week but wrapping up her year of poems and included a whole slew of dogku. You can probably guess what those are.

And by all means, if you come up with some twitku or burmashave poems of your own, be sure to tag them on Twitter!

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Every year it’s always the same.  I vow I’m going to not only find a way to participate in National Poetry Month but I’m gonna carry that spirit beyond April and throughout the rest of the year.

But I don’t.  And because I can’t I have decided I am not really dedicated enough to actually consider myself a poet of any grade. That doesn’t stop me from trying again year after year.

Last year I used npm as my testing ground for signing onto Twitter.  My goal was to post one new haiku a day and sort of get myself up to speed in social media and that went well enough so I’m going to try again this year.  Like last year I’ll be collecting the week’s Tweets into a Poetry Friday post, but since this first roundup comes only a day in I thought I’d do a little behind-the-scenes with these Tweets.

impatient saplings
force frost-burnt buds and brown leaves
elderly trees wait

A few weeks back we had a burst of spring coming straight out of some bitter cold.  I couldn’t help notice that some of the younger trees and bushes in the neighborhood couldn’t wait to send out new buds and baby leaves.  Five days later we got a bitter cold bunch of rain that caused flooding and over-saturated ground and those buds started to get freezer burn.  The haiku wrote itself

lost school craft knowledge:
white glue and rubber cement
fingerprints and snot

I was thinking about how we used to paint desks with rubber cement, let it dry a little, then ball it up into fake snots that we would hang from our nostrils.  Which reminded me of how we used to put white Elmer’s glue on our fingertips and peal it off when dry and study our fingerprints.  What I wasn’t able to include in this etude for adhesives was how we liked to take peppermint scented paste and smear it on our teeth and then lick it off.

By midday yesterday a friend from school through down a challenge: “What, no limericks?”  Hmm.  Would a limerick fit the 140 character limit of Twitter?  Could I also write a limerick a day for a month?  I thought of Edward Lear, and “The Owl and the Pussycat” (not written in limerick form), and the image of a man and a cat at sea bobbed around my mental ocean.  An idea struck, a twist, then the cat disappeared and the following emerged.

There was an old salt name of Plum
Who drank rum ‘til his innards were numb
Took to sea in a scow
Taunted sharks from the prow
And now everyone just calls him Chum

It took two Tweets to make it fit, so maybe Twitter isn’t the best place for a limerick, but I enjoyed the challenge.

Finally, a biographical haiku, fitting for April Fools Day.  And totally true.

the joke is on me
all day my underwear was
inside out, backward

Don’t ask me how I didn’t figure this out earlier.

So here we go.  National Poetry Month and twitku and maybe the occasional limerick.  Follow along on Twitter, or join in by adding your own haiku with the #twitku tag.  And for the first time in a long while I’m participating in Poetry Friday which is hosted this week at Book Aunt.

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Well, this is going better than I imagined. On April first on a whim I decided I’d try to manage one haiku a day as a Twitter experiment. It was either a low bar, my efforts are lame, or I’m in the midst of a creative brain jolt. Either way, the twitku have been flowing. Here’s this past week’s collection of my original contributions to National Poetry Month.

Poems in italics are revisions of the original posts, which generally went up moments after they were conceived.

abraham lincoln:
poetry enthusiast
cockfight referee

benjamin franklin:
nudist vegetarian

for kerouac, fame
was the buddha to kill with
liquor on the road

how does that joke go?
if my dog shaved his face, i’d –
no, that’s not it…

trees shed winter coats
last season’s leaves revealed:
plastic shopping bags

more branches than leaves
more dirt than flowers or grass
transition season

paperback spinner
yellowed memories smell like
pulp and sour milk

ancient old geezers
an ancient backgammon set
beneath ancient skies

bald light bulb against
a mottled cobalt ceiling
ugly city moon

eyes roll, guilty stare
“it’s lip balm, dad, not lipstick”
growing up so fast

chondroitin, statins
glucosamine, fish oil
old man old knees old

solos with a spoon
simmers in swing, blends bop hard
jazz dad keeps it cool

(inspired by http://tiny.cc/JkuMO)

one minute: sunbeams
pink tips burst from tree branches
now: sleet pelts them back

a sudden stillness
charged ozone, tiny hairs dance
when the lightning strikes

time melts slow like ice
into liquid memories
then evaporates

skitter and flutter
lepidopteran monarchs
flies made of butter

pen found in the washer
writes at first then bleeds to death
laundry scribicide

drawings on cave wall
stick men and antelope blobs
dance secret dances

shifting northern light
excites the inner artist
distracts the writer

head hits the pillow
the promise of sleep broken
the pillow fights back

frustrating morning
afternoon is no better
where’s the chocolate?

Care to follow along? I’m delzey on Twitter. If you haven’t already you should check out GottaBook and 30 Days 30 Poets this month for lots of extra crunchy poetry goodness.

The Poetry Friday shindig is rounded up to the nearest dollar over at Carol’s Corner. Plenty of poetry goodness to go around.

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My life isn’t complicated enough.  I made a last minute decision to try and write a short twitter-length poem each day this month.  This is going to be a bit rough when I’m traveling to DC in a couple of weeks, but it isn’t like I’ll get fired from my own blog for falling down on the job.

If all goes well, each Friday during National Poetry Month I’ll round up the tweet-poems I wrote during the previous week.  Haiku’s seem best suited for the dimensions of twitter, but we’ll see if I get inspired to try something different as the month goes on.  Would a Limick fit? Hmm.

like schoolyard children
cats rumpus around the house
silently laughing

this week, pizza box
accepted, but not last week –
recycling’s complex!

chewy dough pockets
bathed in briny golden broth –
homemade wonton soup

cardinal flanked by
angry mob of scolding jays
springtime apartheid

i plot, plan, outline
organize, note, fret and fuss
– my words need a walk

lit up christmas tree
in an empty apartment
glares at april rains

Not sure if I should really be associatig myself with all the good stuff out there, but Poetry Friday is rounded-up at ayudda.net this week.

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