I try daily to write happy poems
But what flows out of me is a medley
Of midnight thoughts macabre bits and bobs
Black is a shade that is hard to understand
It absorbs all light and gives nothing back in return
It has killed quite a few of my spider ferns
(I am Anne the Fern-killer)
10 haikus waiting for publication since 18 August 2013
Supposedly about happy things happy thoughts happy foods
What do the lovely artistic folks at NaHaiWriMo think?
That we can fart out happy thoughts on demand?
In measured metre and cycle? I tried with every bit of effort
To be all sunshiny cotton candy madness
(FFS it did not work I am Anne the poem-killer)
What pours out of my pen is squid-like india ink thoughts
Velvety chiffony gauze sometimes as purple as midnight
Usually as darkly black as the coffee rounds in my mooka pot
No sunlight pierces through the writing gets bluer than blue
Since you are here to visit again I guess you can deal with it
I swear I did try daily to write happy prose
But what flows out of me is black black black hypnosis
(Well it is awful it is melancholy but at least it is catharsis)
Anne V
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