Category Archives: Writing

Goethe Do? Haiku

What did Goethe do,
alone, thinking? He had no
techno-distractions.

Techno FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out): Haiku

I’m so wrapped up in
checking all I might miss that
I’m missing all life.
OR
We’re so wrapped up in
checking all we might miss that
we’re missing our lives.

The Food Is Done: IMprov Free Verse

“The food is done!”
she said,
if I want some.

I’m sure the food
will taste great.
it always does.

But will there be talking
and companionship?
OR will I hear a tinny voice
coming out of her ear
as she listens
to someone else
far more interesting
than I am?

I’m filled with dread
and hope
and longing
and expectations.

Southern Evening Sorrow: IMprov Free Verse

The constant droning
of the neighbor’s farm irrigation water pump,
or it is it his tractor,
provides background noise
for the birds screeching
and the bugs chirping
and the frogs croaking and splashing.

Unpleasant,
this,
the man-made droning
that never goes away,
unlike the giant flights
that roar overhead
but eventually fade
into the distance.

Still,
better than the TV and social media,
with their constant
look at this look at that you won’t believe what happened today oh my goodness this is so significant!

My heart is breaking slowly,
in small pieces.
I was tired of being lonely.
I was tired of being alone.
I know how to do alone
and lonely
so well.

My stomach is too full
to go hang out
at a pizza place.
I don’t drink,
so a bar provides no relief.

I’m glad I don’t live on the coast,
on a beach
where I could simply take off my shoes
and my robe
and Walk
and Walk
and Walk
toward the sunset,
until the water washed over me
and lifted me
and carried me
where it wanted.

If I Walk
and Walk
and Walk
and let my feet carry me
where they want,
there’s a good chance
I’ll find my way back
to this porch later this evening,
because the bugs always start
to bite
around sunset,
and they provide poor companionship.

Not Heard, Alone: An Evening-Long Series

Starting at 6:40 p.m. on August 14th, 2024, this happened:

I could complain how
she doesn’t listen, but she’s
got bluetooth hearing.
——–

Her bluetooth hearing aids
mean she won’t listen
to me.

It’s probably like
when guys are glued to sports
on TV.

We’ll go on romantic walks
but she’s listening to TED talks.
Her newfangled hearing aids
means she’s NOT hearing
me. (6:42 p.m.)
———-

What’s the point of new
hearing aids if you just hear
pre-recorded talks? 6:43 p.m.)
——

My Dad watches reels.
My wife listens to TED talks.
Conversation’s gone. (6:45 p.m.)

————
Well,
it’s happened.
I’m in the downhill part
of my life.

Walking is easier.
I see more,
I hear more,
I think more,
I feel more,
I understand more.

And my dad
has the TV volume
up to 120 decibels,
and his face
is in the phone,
watching reels of little kids
he doesn’t know,
dancing.

And my wife,
the smart person that she is,
tunes into TED talks
and philosophical lessons
from people much deeper
and much wiser than I am.

So after all this time
thinking that I could talk
about deep and significant insights
that I’ve gained
and that I’m learning day to day,
I’m still alone,
with my thoughts and feelings.

Except for God and Jesus.
They’re still there,
like They always have been,
like They always will be.
But being alone
and lonely
now
was not
what I expected.
(6:51 p.m.)
———
Another lover?
Who needs one more when she’s got
TED to listen to? (6:52 p.m.)
——–

She works.
I think.
She thinks.
I think.

She listens to others.
I think.
She talks about others.
I hear her.

We might connect.
But it’s like I’m watching a play
or reading someone else’s mind.
I’m not participating
except to look,
and hear,
and breathe,
and occasionally turn the pages
of the play bill,
and get up and stretch
at intermission.

The world is a stage,
but I’m not a player in it.
I just watch
and listen to tales
of what others have done
and are doing.

If I walk into the field,
the woods,
the creek alone,
with my thoughts,
as Muir
and Thoreau
and Whitman
and Longfellow
have done,
perhaps that’s my purpose?

Were they alone also?
Even though they had people around them
to share with?
In their thinking,
and their connecting with nature,
were they still alone?
And were they lonely?
Or just busy?
(6:56 p.m.)
———–

What did Goethe do
alone, thinking? He had no
techno-distractions.
10:55 p.m.

Rage Rage: Haiku

Do not go quietly
into that mind-numbing night,
but rage rage!
against the blue light;

The social media
that draws us in,
and makes us have arguements
we can never win.

We loose friends
we thought were true,
and question all in us
we thought we knew.

Turn off your media! Stop the bleeding!
(Why aren’t you acting? You’re still reading!)

Kpop Cool Black Hair Toupee Dye: Haiku

When you dye to look
KPop cool, but your black hair
looks toupee old fool.

OR
When you think it would
be fun to look like K-pop
but looks like toupee.

Create Beautiful Content: Haiku

Backstory: A friend posted a meme about how there was going to be division in the Nation in the next few months. She suggested, instead of fighting and being snarky and mean, that we should “Create Beautiful Content.” 

So I wrote this:

Totally agree. I’ve found myself letting me not be my best self… just to “be right”. Sigh. So easy to do.
“Knowing how to do
haiku, it’s easy to make
Beautiful Content.”