Category Archives: Uncategorized

Winter Haiku

I meant to post some winter haiku months ago, but then DT happened…and I got my late-blooming political activist thing going.

So!

Before it’s too late, and the snow drifts melt, here’s some winter haiku for you in the more severe climes. And for those of you in the milder climes, be glad.

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Skiing on white caps

White out blinds the shushing eye

Casted leg propped up.

 

 

Snow shovels scraping

Driveways and sidewalks cleaned up

Kids break out snow day.

 

 

Time for a long nap

Hibernating furry bears

Roly-poly cubs.

 

For those of you inclined to purchase a book of poetry, my book is available! I have loads of haiku and other personal free-verse poems in this collection, written over decades of life. I hope you enjoy. https://www.amazon.com/No-Boundaries-Karen-R-Sanderson/dp/0998127604

 

 

 

 

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Little Zombie

Little Zombie

By Karen R. Sanderson

megan-zombie[1]

My zombie friend, Megan

Little zombie, you think you’re stylish?

Blood drippin’ down your shirt.

With your herky-jerky, lumbering lurch.

Ain’t ‘gonna get us, we’re on alert.

 

Little zombie, right next door,

Tearing through their chain link fencing.

Banging down the neighbor’s entry.

Your inhuman strength is oh-so frightening!

 

Little zombie, you’re so scary.

Are those brains, gray and mushy,

Spilled upon your dirty feet?

Don’t look now, your toes are squishing.

 

What yellow fangs you’re a baring.

Gaping mouth, you’re getting anxious.

Baseball bats don’t knock you down.

We’ll have to raid the gun collection.

 

See my boy, he’s packing heat.

He’ll use his gun to make you dead.

To his shoulder, butt stock goes,

Oh little zombie, where’s your head?

________________

A poem contained in No Boundaries, A Collection of Poetry, by

Karen R. Sanderson. Soon to be launched.

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On Halloween

On Halloween

Pam Wight cat

Who would ride a broomstick

As the witches do –

Straight across the pebbly stars

On a street of blue?

I should! I should!

(If mother came, too).

Who would take a wildcat,

With eyes all yellow-green

To ride upon her broomstick

Late on Halloween?

I should! I should!

(If mother sat between).

____________

A poem contained in No Boundaries, A Collection of Poetry,

by Karen R. Sanderson. Soon to be launched.

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Guest Poet, Sue Lobo

11136680_749463021821443_2489833491478305154_nSue Lobo is the author of five books of her poetry & one of her childhood in the African bush, called “Lollipops of Dust,” her autobiography of a child´s view of living in colonial Africa, in the Kalahari desert, with all the magic of what the old Africa had to offer. She has also participated in ten poetry anthologies with other very talented poets & has won poetry competitions in Gibraltar & Spain. She is married to a Spaniard, with two grown sons & presently lives in Spain. Her book of poetry about death & dying called “The Last Dance” has been used to comfort the bereaved in hospices & also used at funerals. Her book of animal poetry called “Wild Whisperings” was written to generate funds for the International Save The Rhino Fund. Her latest work called “I Am Woman” is all about women & their struggles & plight in many countries of the world, but also reflecting on their joy & beauty in every age of womanhood.

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LEST WE FORGET:

In the sadness of war, of only man´s sick making,

Leaving death, destruction & our sad earth quaking,

We now sadly remember, all those whom have died,

Every man from every nation, no matter what side.

 

But let´s not forget, the feathers, fins, hooves & the paws,

Innocent friends with no choices, we sent into our wars,

The silent creatures who fought for whatever the cause,

Not understanding man´s reasoning for fighting sad wars.

 

Dolphins, pigeons, brave equines & not forgetting the dogs,

Taken to far oceans, air, hot deserts & to muddy cold bogs,

These poor creatures who died, without knowing the game,

Let us pay homage to them & say “I´m so sorry,” in shame.

POETRY BY – SUE LOBO ©:   /|\   (PHOTOGRAPHY WITH PERMISSION GRANTED, BY THE VERY TALENTED – Lili SaatchiCemetery of staglieno and more)

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SLOW DANCE ME:

My life on earth is near on done, so please,
Slow dance me through the corridors of time,
Through mists where the satin moths waltz,
Tiptoe me through forests where Druids gather,
Where I can hear the silent melody of the moon,
The echo of wistful whisperings of woeful witches,
Take my very old hand of life´s learnt wisdom, and
Lead me through silken webs of spiders long gone,
To the waterfalls where the coloured birds sing,
To where the eagle soars & the lion roars,
Slow dance me high to clouds above, where
Pegasus flies, & dragons wink their red hot love,
Sing me songs of days gone by & tell me pretty tales,
Let me smell those intoxicating perfumes, of
Jasmine & rose, & of scents I yet don’t know,
Slow dance me to the end of a life well lived, and
Let me hear the voice of god as I take my final bow,
Slow dance me please, for my time is done.
POETRY BY – SUE LOBO ©:   /|\   (PHOTOGRAPHY WITH PERMISSION GRANTED, BY THE VERY TALENTED – Lili SaatchiCemetery of staglieno and more)

 

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MATRIARCHS:

Why did I not listen to them, so wise,
those matriarchs of my folk, my clan, my tribe?
When they foresaw & warned, I just laughed & scorned
at their words, & waltzed out the door, whilst,
they told of the reasons, the wherefores & the whys.

I hear their voices in the wind & the rain,
I see their faces in sun, stars & moon,
I now live their words of warning & scorn,
It´s too late now, but it´s a lesson well learned,
If only we could all start over again.

Their foreboding came true, every wise word,
they´ve long gone away, to other realms far afield,
Their words tormenting my every wrong deed,
too late now, & so sorry am I, that
I walked out the door leaving words unheard.

POETRY BY – SUE LOBO ©:   /|\   (PHOTOGRAPHY WITH PERMISSION GRANTED, BY THE VERY TALENTED – Lili SaatchiCemetery of staglieno and more)

 

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SUMMER CHILD:

Latticed shadows echo upon sun dappled cheek,

Tiny black minnows nibble toes down by the creek,

Wending fluffed clouds are angels merely disguised,

Hankied white gulls pinned upon lapels of blue skies,

Rosy peached lips dripping juicy with childhood smiles,

Nut-skinned brown knees clambering over mossy stiles,

Laughter gaily heard through cool green forest glades,

As you go tripping through lilacs my pretty little maid,

Gritty little bare feet, dirty-earthy & so muddily free,

The wild beasts your friends & your mentors the trees,

Your tight little fists clutching joy & fields full of flowers,

Paddling in splashing brooks for many summer hours,

Breeze brushed hair as tussled as the errant soft fern,

And peeping through the brambles, Puck, Pan & Herne,

Ladybirds, dragonflies, butterflies & soft velveteen bees,

Join in your games of tickle, chase & the laughing tease,

Lemon scented lollipop melting on small eager tongue,

Herb perfumed fingers spin stones where bees once sung,

Skipping through red berry juice & plunging into streams,

Your joyful childish laughter echoes in summer day screams.

POETRY BY – SUE LOBO © /|\
Photo for the poem “Summer Child” (Photography shared from Xavier Lobo © – my son)

 

BOOKS:

Africa My Africa – poetry – (Now out of print)

Wild Whisperings – poetry – CTU Publishing Group & Amazon

The Last Dance – poetry – CTU Publishing Group & Amazon

I Am Woman – poetry – CTU Publishing Group & Amazon

Lollipops Of Dust – Autobiography – (Available from Woodfieldpublishing.co.uk & Amazon)

ANTHOLOGIES:

Available from CTU Publishing Group & Amazon

Love, A Four Letter Word, Divided Lines, Poetic Melodies, and Women of the World

Poets With Voices Strong – Autumn Poetry – published by Brian Wrixton & available from Blurb):

Awaken To A Dream –The International Library Of Poetry (out of print)

The Golden Seed – Slippery Jack Press, UK

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The Lost Arts – The RSVP

IMG_2169 (1)If you have ever planned an event, you know how important receiving the RSVP is.

Do you plan for 10 or 50? Do you spend $50 or $300 on food? Do you have seating for 15 or 150?

How hard is it to respond to an RSVP request?

It’s fairly simple actually –

You get an invitation. You check your calendar. You talk to your family.

Can you go? Yes – you RSVP. Can you go? No – you RSVP.

It ain’t rocket science.

But, apparently, to some people, an RSVP is beyond their skill set.

Why don’t people respond to an RSVP?

Are they waiting for sometIMG_2167 (2)hing better to come along to take up that portion on their activity calendar? Or do they just not care about the person planning the event?

My mother taught me better.

If we had something else planned that day, we would RSVP our regrets. And stick with it.

And for “yes” – Even if I didn’t want to go to Laura’s lame old 10th birthday party that day, I went. Because I RSVP’d I would be there.

An RSVP is an obligation. An RSVP is a promise.

Old fashioned? Maybe.

I think it’s just good manners.

*******

Have you ever planned a party?

Do your prospective guests RSVP? 

Have you ever been disappointed by a party turn-out? 

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Winter Haiku

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Icicle fingers

Icy lace accents the eaves

Let’s curl under the blanket.

***

Skiing on white caps

White out blinds the shushing eye

Casted leg propped up.

***

Minus fifty chills

Frostbitten nose and fingers

Another toddy?

***

Care to add one of your own? 

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2015 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2015 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 3,200 times in 2015. If it were a cable car, it would take about 53 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

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