Motorcycle Madness

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub – Quadrille #59 – “cycle” (posted by Kim)

The on-line dictionary defines the word ‘cycle’ as:

(noun) a series of events that are regularly repeated in the same order;
(noun) a complete set or series;
(verb) to ride a bicycle;
(verb) to move in or follow a regularly repeated sequence of events.

You can have a monocycle, a bicycle and a tricycle.

You can move in cycles; events can be cyclical; our fellow dVerse bartender, Björn, is an avid cyclist; and there is a range of intriguing words beginning with ‘cyclo-‘ to indicate a circle or ring.


Look cool revving up
a bike. Some alarm red,
some banana yellow,
gleaming steel
on two wheels. Helmets,
shirts, a plethora of
leather. Weave through
traffic. Never felt freer
than riding on back
of a motorcycle, hair
blowing behind, arms
holding on, trusting–

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Written for:  Carpe Diem #1452 cool (suzushi)
“Today I have taken a kigo from the sub-division of summer, the season. Our classical kigo for today is cool (suzushi) and it is normally used as a kigo for the summer evening in Japan. I think you all can relate to that, because after a hot summer day it is wonderful to sit down in the garden, on the porch, on the beach on a cool summer evening to cool down.”

Basho wrote the following haiku in the Summer of 1688.

taneshisa ya aota ni suzuma mizu no ato

cooling oneself in a rice paddy
the sound of water
© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)
(In this haiku the word “suzuma” is “cooling oneself”)

tea water boils
no way to find coolness
not even a fan

© Chèvrefeuille

And I ran through my archives and found a nice tanka with the same theme:
seeking for coolness
in the depths of the heart –
Summer romance
laying in the shadows of the pines
cooling down

© Chèvrefeuille (our host)

Here is my attempt:

daylight heat burns
under a saffron sun
evening brings cool shower

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Written for:  Haiku Horizons – “flame”

gold glow
watching the center color
of a flame

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Music in Moonlight

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl  Wordle #356

Words:  call, breath, pass, alone, tell, harm, fiddle, shot, tower, late, treat, honey

Fiddle me a tune,
honey. It is late;
we are alone. I will
pour you another shot
if you treat me right.
Night will pass, cast it
aside, and wake to a new
day. Take a breath.
Do not stand in the tower’s
dark shadow. Come into
moon’s light. Do not listen
to call of the mocking
-bird, he tells dark tales
of harm. Hear the night
-ingale to sweeten your dreams,
and just before we go to sleep
honey, fiddle me a tune.

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Written for:  Carpe Diem #1450 – Moonflower

by moonflowers
a fascinating body
floats absent-mindedly

© Matsuo Basho age 21 penname then ‘Sobo’.

fragile beauty
climbing against the fence
moonflower straightens
with her snow white blossom
to the Summer moon

© Chèvrefeuille (our host)

Here is my attempt:


white morning-glories
incandescent in summer
under watchful moon

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Written for:  Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #36 – ‘like Basho’ – Deep Within Self
“It’s time again for our weekend meditation that special feature for the weekend to give myself and you a little bit more time to meditate and contemplate before you have to respond. This time I have chosen for an all new feature that I have given the name “Deep Within Self”. In that feature the goal is to create haiku, tanka or other Japanese poetry form from the heart. Try to create Japanese poetry in which you catch your Inner Most Feeling inspired on a given theme.

Maybe you know the idea of The Third Eye (the pineal gland) on the midst of your forehead. It is said that you can see right from the heart, soul and mind through the Third Eye. I know what that means. As you open your Third Eye you can really see. In my case I saw the past and relived the life of Basho … and that was an eye-opener.”

just one leaf
struggles with the wind
like Basho

© Chèvrefeuille (our host)

Here is my attempt:

standing on sand
in ocean waves, I see
my younger self

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singing frog

Written for:  Carpe Diem #1449 – River Frog

Kajika Frog

Kajika Frog (River Frog or “Singing Frog” or “River Deer”

Kajika or “singing frog” is the Japanese singing frog, known for its “fififi” call, is brown or gray-black. Other frogs merely croak or call, but this frog sings. In Japan it was once common to keep the singing frog in a special box, the better to hear its beautiful song, which, it is said, has a cooling effect in the heat of summer. The singing frog has webbed hind- but not fore-feet; the tips of fingers and toes have truncated discs, the better for gripping wet stones. The skin on the back is grainy. Males are 3-4.5 cm long, females are bigger, at 4-8 cm.
You can find them in mountain streams bordered by woodland, from Honshu to Kyushu, ideally streams with plenty of fist-size stones.

cycling home
accompanied by the song of frogs
the cool breeze

© Chèvrefeuille (our host)


Michigan J. Frog

Thrilling audiences
holding you spellbound with voice
singing frog

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What Is the Future?

Written for:  Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads  “What the?  (posted by ManicDDaily)

It’s about whats! As in,”[A] child said what is the grass” that opens Whitman’s poem. Yes, it is very much about grass, but it also winds from and through grass to handkerchiefs to hints to the tongues of mothers and the mouths of graves.

I invite you to pick something–anything–and to write its “what”. As in, “what is the—?”

You do not have to begin your poem, with “what is the?” or “A child said what is the–” though you should feel free to use either of those phrases if one of them helps you get going.

Also note that your poem does not have to be nearly so long as Whitman’s and can take any form, even- dare I say it? -a haiku! It also down’t need to be heavy or profound, comic is fine.


They tell me that every vote
counts, yet they whisper,
electoral college.

What is the future
of democracy–of these states
that are united–where checks
and balances are cited to keep
us from tyranny?

What constitutes an American President?
He is not above the law.
He is not prejudiced.
He is not a liar.
He is not given to temper tantrums.
He is not a rash decision maker.
He is not a crown seeker.
He is not ignorant.

What is reason, and where
did it go?

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Looking At Lust

Written for:  Poets United Midweek Motif~Lust  (posted by Sumana)
“Today I want you to write about whatever ‘Lust’ means to you. It may be a special ardor, desire, passion, libido, fancy, craving and all the meanings referring to ‘lust’ in the dictionary.”

An obsession, lust. No matter
the noun in question. Those driven
to power will climb any height,
flatter any person to achieve
their goals. Whole families fall
by the wayside, and friends are
supporters who can aid and bolster.

Easier to grasp lust of lovers.
Quickening heartbeat, fluttering
stomach–anticipation of stolen
moments of heat, burning eyes,
slick bodies sated and spent
where scent itself renews lust.

Do you have an obsession?

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Spanning Bridges

Written for:  Poetic Asides #440 – Write a generation poem.

I am always awed to see music,
art, and film span bridges
of generations. Concert audiences
are invariably people of different
ages. Young people attend classic
films, and museums are schools
of learning for students yearning
to become that next great artist.

As a child, bridges are vast; as a teen,
short and narrow. Age may erase
bridges for some, or build wider
ones that know no bounds. Remember,
your generation is one of many.


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