Quote:
Originally posted by David Rosenthal:
Welcome Lee, and thanks for doing this again -- last time was very invigorating and great fun. I'll break the ice by copying over the batch I put in the open mic thread:
David R.
|
Thanks for the kind words, David! I am looking forward to this. I am not sure how the formatting will work here, but I am going to try to intersperse my comments with your poems below:
Hold still, dragonfly –
I promise not to zoom in
much closer than this.
This one if fine and fun. Haiku, of course, will vary greatly in depth, and only one in a zillion is a masterpiece. There is not a real lot here, but what is here is worth having.
Gypsy moth cocoons
in a canopy of trees –
sound of gentle rain.
A nice, gentle haiku.
Chilly morning wind
as the sun begins to set –
the fog didn’t lift.
I am a little confused about this one--not sure how the morning and sunset got next to each other here.
The geyser erupts –
for a moment I forget
the smell of sulfur.
Here the subject is percption, which is an interesting kind of haiku. Here is another:
while pondering
e=mc(squared)
stung by a mosquito Jerry Gill
(Sorry, but I don't know how to do a superscript 2 on the keypad! Duh!)
Two oystercatchers
call to each other and fly
before the next wave.
Not lot here . . . more of what we would call a "nature note".
I will never know
if that is a sea lion
or a bunch of kelp.
And as a consequence, neither shall I!
On a blade of grass:
the last remaining droplet
of yesterday's rain.
Has a nice gentle feeling with a hint of sadness.
Forgive me, spider –
the sun only lit one strand
of your sidewalk web.
Issa-like in it's element of compassion.
A pink penstemon
holding a poppy petal –
a brand new flower.
OK, but it doesn't seem to have a lot of significance.
Buried in a pile
of camellia petals:
camellia petals.
This one is a little more interesing.