Dead Flowers

I'm doing a haiku today. It came to me in an interesting way. I was pondering  the need I have to improve my family life. I'm still gnawing on the answer I got.

Dead Flowers

I asked for wisdom

Throw away dead flow'rs, He said

Now you may start fresh

© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Okay we're also supposed to do a pyramid poem today. So I thought it would be interesting to make my haiku a pyramid poem as well. If you want to know about pyramid poems, go here.

Flowers
Dead flowers
Dead flowers wilting
Dead flowers wilting in jackets
Dead flowers wilting in jackets of dust

© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

My Cute Little Destroying Angel

Here's the second poem of the day, a Pensee poem. You'll find the form here at Steph's site. Here we go with mine:

J.R.
Desting angel
You used to whack them with trucks
Now you giggle and throw pillows
How will you be, grown up?

© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Pluto, my Fav PLANET

We're doing Octopoems today on this beautiful 28th day of April. What's an Octopoem you ask, rightly. Go here and Stephanie will tell you. Here's my splendiforus offering which will forever go down in the annals of poetry as a stellar example...;o)

Pluto

You float on the 

periphery, a colorless ghost, but I think of you 

as indigo because you're a rebel like that.

They won't even call you a planet anymore, and yet you're 

my favorite lost little frozen chunk of winter.

It's as if you are uncertain of your reception as you hang out there 

on the edge of the system.

You wrap yourself in darkness, nothing sweeping your empty rock but dust.

I could picture you in a purple tu-tu, toe socks, and a propeller beanie, especially when all the other planets are dressed in weather.

Not you. You're sitting in your bean bag chair out there in the void.

You're watching Lucy re-runs

And drinking white grape peach juice, 

because you can. 

© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Artist's concept because they don't have the imagination to see you as I do, your biggest fan.

I messed with the look of this thing because I wanted it to look more like Pluto. I  think you can handle it...;o) 
Only today I messed things up, so there's a Pensee poem coming as well. Stay tuned, oh intrepid poetry fans.
 

Vacuums and Rictameters and Rain, Oh my!

Hello again from the desert. We got rain! That's a reason for jubilation. April is winding down and graduations, a wedding, and a homecoming are approaching. Today it's a Rictameter poem. Yeah I had no idea what that was either, so I went here to find out. And this is what came of it:

Vacuum

Devouring life

Leaving beauty after

Eating what we no longer want

Wouldn't it be nice to make all of life's

Problems disappear so quickly

Elegant solutions

To life's messes

Vacuum

© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

  

The Writer's Lament

It's Sunday again so I wrote this Wednesday. Here we go with more couplets because they're a blast to write:

The Writer's Lament
Writing writing all day long
I write a list, I write a song.

I write directions to the store
I write a blog post then two more

Then some funny Face Book posts
With silly pictures and some boasts

A few reviews and then some edits
Acknowledgements and writer credits

I fill an order for some food
And mark some scriptures, call it good

It's not until the family's sleeping
With my book appointment keeping

Writing late into the night
By the dimming kitchen light

That is when my people live
To frolic on the page 'til five.

Then I haul me in to bed
To sleep for an hour like the dead

No wonder when the day gets light
My looks would give a reef shark fright

That is why kids see me sleeping
When into my room they're creeping

But they nudge me anyway
To tell me it's my driving day.

© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Slouchy Pants--the Poem

This is an ABCB poem I concocted yesterday after seeing what I call a clown on the street with his pants down around his knees:

SLOUCHY PANTS
You, the ridiculous boy in the pants
Which dip inexplicably under your rear
What kind of message are you trying to leave
With that image of dots on my retinas sear'd?

Think beyond now when you glare at the world
Sometime in the future your children will see
A boy standing there with his pants hanging down
With no clue what he actually meant it to be

They'll look at each other, shrug shoulders and laugh
At the strange way their father has chosen with care
His perfectly fitting and normal blue jeans
Now showcase his red polka dot underwear

I see you when crossing the street every day
It's hilarious to watch you endeavour to run 
You clutching your pants while they're tumbling down
And all I can think is it's probably fun

Your father is calling his son a big fool
Your mother is rolling her eyes up above
The sister you teased is now laughing at you
But worse there's the girl that you've chosen to love

She'll be so delighted she'll probably scream
Imagine the photos in your wedding book
The girl in her bride gown so gorgeous and white
All your in-laws and outlaws are taking a look

You're wearing your tux with the pants hanging down
It's there on the pages forever to see
Those ridiculous underpants still peeking out
I'd pull up my pants were it all up to me.

© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Oblivion

I had this poem bludgeoning the walls of my head, so I'm going to let it breathe free. I'm not sure what Stephanie has planned for this twenty fourth day of April, because I came straight here. I'll check later. Maybe we'll jive. This is an ABAB poem:

Oblivion

Into oblivion nightly I chase

Out to the cliff-side and up it I go

The moon spills nectar on my upturned face

To the ghostly galleon I frantically row

Up to the peak and I run without fear

The wind combs my hair with its fingers of ice

I hunt through the glades for a magical bear

Or chase goblin sharks in the deep precipice.

Swords beat on my armor, cleave into my flesh

The rope snaps, I plummet into the crevasse

The bull stamps and runs 'til our bodies enmesh

I round the last corner, drive into a crash

And then in the morning I rise from my bed

Rumpled and tired into clothing I climb

I greet the new day with a measure of dread

The adventure of dreams is unmatchable time

Gone is the chase, the retrieval, the hunt

Adrenalin pumping, the impossible sail

I sleep through my chores like a drudging grunt

Inhabit my cubicle, typing email

But oh, when the curtains of my eyes slam shut

The nightly adventure begins once again

My imagination is full to the glut

I can only embrace th' anxiety, pain 

© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Here's a link to the five W's poem I was actually supposed to do. Cheers.