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I would like to see haiku in the voice of any of the following poets: Robert Bly, Tim Murphy, Sylvia Plath, Emily Dickinson or Walt Whitman.
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These curdling greens
gnaw at the roots of a skull-- the pond, deafening. |
The leaves of grass die to the song of the body electrically |
The grass waves to everything alike, singing a hymn in praise of all that startling beauty with its own inimitable voice. [Whitman in only 17 syllables? This might be a "haiku" more his size. http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/ubbhtml/smile.gif] Jan |
Bloody poppy mouths
Along the highway scatter Silent screams in spring |
One, two, three, four, five,
six, seven, spoons of coffee. Too late for a peach. |
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Ice cave of desire </html>Icicles around my heart Warming to your love |
Father kept his bees And I practice suicide Ted doesn't get it |
Dear Daddy Nazi, it's spring term and I need books. Send cash, you bastard |
Like debts, locusts swarm.
The farmer watches the storm Foreclose on the farm. |
So, I tossed again,
all those inebriate imps, raucous in my head. [This message has been edited by Nigel Holt (edited June 07, 2001).] |
This was my letter
To the world, returned to me By S.A.S.E. |
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