TSM 162

~ qbit 
She said to me: "your ode to the moon 
is a bird pecking frantically 
at light in a dirty puddle – 
futile but for its shit on the pavement, 
which was at least warmer and brighter, 
than anything you had to say." 

And I turned the words over in my hand – 
what I had imagined was a sparrow – 
was indeed without life, 
its fluttering not a heartbeat nor untested wings, 
but the wind blowing scraps of fortune cookie tropes 
from the empty nest of my pages. 

The terrible sound that followed – 
like endless boxcars empty of thought 
rattling across the plains – 
the sky a million points of darkness 
as locusts of Haiku descended, ravaging 
and leaving only stubble in their wake.

The Sunday Muse

34 thoughts on “TSM 162”

  3. Locusts of haiku! They darken the sky, then land and cover every good green thing with their hideous, numb exoskeletons and their mindless, tireless mandibles spouting haiku, nightmare of haiku, pustule of haiku, disease of haiku, riding a pale locust and death follows with it!

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  5. So much to hold on to here Qbit! I especially love, “empty nest of my pages”….WOW!! I think you struck a chord with Shay on the Haiku! LOL You said it oh so well….”locust of haiku descending”. Amazing!!

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  12. The second verse is filled with sorrow as I imagine the empty hands and a lifeless sparrow. I have sparrows have been busy making nests everywhere around here. I can hear the hungry babies crying for food in the morning and evening hours.

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  14. This is very clever – the “scraps of fortune cookie tropes from the empty nest of my pages” and the locusts of haiku. Made me smile.

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  20. “as locusts of Haiku descended, ravaging and leaving only stubble in their wake” I love the whole poem, but this phrase made me giggle. I know so many who dislike haiku, but I really like writing them.

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    1. I love Haiku. Mine tend to be… well… a bit *contrarian* vs. the “strict” form and content. (Although I can write those too if pressed). But I love the economy and the power that even just a few words can achieve. Glad you liked the image!

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  21. This one blew me away…the entire piece is balanced like a throwing knife–especially liked ” the wind blowing scraps of fortune cookie tropes
    from the empty nest of my pages.” boy have I been there. I also like the image of the all-devouring Haiku ravaging the fields–really apt as classically the form does devour the seasons and spit them out in tiny molecules–I agree on your observations of its power, a great form when mastered,but a saccharine slop in the hands of the thoughtless. No danger of that here, tho.

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