3 W W words: bleak - hiccup - queer
This is the first holiday-themed haiku of the season for me. Will there be others? I suppose it depends on the words to come.
What the Dickens? - a haiku
by Mendur
A career hiccup:
a queer, bleak man and three ghosts -
his most famous tale.
.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
3WW: "Danse Macabre"
3 W W words: grave - lithe - offend
This time, something a little on the dark side ... the goth side ... by which I mean the "black-haired death-obsessed new romantic" types, not the "come with me and let's sack Rome" types. Both can be fun but I chose the former for this week's effort.
Danse Macabre - a goth haiku
by Mendur
Walking on my grave,
your lithe steps do not offend.
Dance for me, my dear.
.
This time, something a little on the dark side ... the goth side ... by which I mean the "black-haired death-obsessed new romantic" types, not the "come with me and let's sack Rome" types. Both can be fun but I chose the former for this week's effort.
Danse Macabre - a goth haiku
by Mendur
Walking on my grave,
your lithe steps do not offend.
Dance for me, my dear.
.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
3WW: "The NFL? Or Chippendales?"
3 W W words: fondle, kick, sumptuous
Some very odd words this time. The result is on the risque side.
The NFL? Or Chippendales? - a haiku
by Mendur
Sumptuous beefcake -
with sweaty passes and kicks,
they fondle the balls.
.
Some very odd words this time. The result is on the risque side.
The NFL? Or Chippendales? - a haiku
by Mendur
Sumptuous beefcake -
with sweaty passes and kicks,
they fondle the balls.
.
Friday, November 27, 2009
The Vampire Cycle
The Vampire Cycle
I've been working on my "Vampire Cycle", an example of each kind of poem using vampires as the theme, for about a year, on and off. I'm not even close to done but I think vampires have reached the end of their current popularity, with the newest "Twilight" movie and vampire TV series being cancelled. So, for all you fans of "Forever Knight", "Blood Ties", "True Blood", "Twilight" and all the rest, I'm posting my incomplete "Vampire Cycle". Enjoy.
Afterward – a haiku
by Mendur
Moonlight in winter –
Daintily, she wipes the blood
from her dark red lips.
Decision - an acrostic poem
by Mendur
Villains in black and white at a Satuday matinee;
Amoral predators doing what comes naturally to their prey;
Mesmerizing others with their beauty and their power;
Pleasant, some, and some are cruel while others are just dour.
Immortality’s a deal, even at the cost of sunrise.
Red, the blood upon their lips; red, the danger in their eyes;
Evil monsters, some will say, and some will call them cursed.
Still, if given such a chance, I’d welcome their dark thirst.
Eternal Love – a sijo
by Mendur
I slip into the arms of night; her cool breeze embraces me.
She comes to me every eve and brings my prey out to play.
She never disappoints me. What other lover do I need?
Habit – a cinquain a la Adelaide Crapsey
by Mendur
Blood calls.
Wander the night.
Seek the one that will die.
Kill, feed, thrill, then live with the guilt …
… again.
Caress – a rondeau
by Mendur
His cold caress will desecrate
your soul with seething, ruthless hate.
Hot blood he'll take with jagged pain
that leaves behind a crimson stain;
the teeth marks, his defining trait.
A man who held his life too great
said, "Death, my friend, you'll have to wait."
But now he seeks from Death, in vain,
His cold caress.
Four hundred years, a heavy weight
with thirst that he can never sate.
Some nights, he howls and damns the rain
but dawn must come and night must wane.
He hides, then, and bemoans his fate,
his cold caress.
Silver Chain – a canzone
by Mendur
Her birthday present, a sterling silver chain
to show my dear love how, by her, I was bound.
Our delight assured, we made our wedding plans:
a feast for all, a dance and church bells ringing.
How blind we were, then, and yet how could we guess
or learn the plot of vicious and cruel fate?
Oh, my love, she wore my sterling silver chain
and as for me, I’ll never forget her name.
He arrived with fine clothes and a gold-topped cane
but, oddness there, his boots never made a sound.
Exotic, he was, this guest from distant lands.
I did not believe the threat he was bringing,
anot even when, from my love, he begged a tress
of her golden hair, one night, when it was late.
Oh, my love, she wore my sterling silver chain
and as for me, I’ll never forget her name.
If I knew what was to come, I’d be insane.
My love, she disappeared and could not be found.
One night, she returned with bloodstains on her hands.
She said she’d heard that damned scoundrel singing
and next she knew she felt his cold caress
and the need for blood turned love into foul hate.
Oh, my love, she threw away the silver chain
but as for me, I’ll never forget her name.
That my love was now a monster caused me pain
but the greater evil waited in the ground
and I knew the course that honor’s code demands.
I led the men into the cold rain, stinging,
until from the demon we took redress
and through his heart we drove a stake, good and straight.
For my love, I recovered her silver chain.
And as for me, I’ll never forget her name.
When we returned, my love we tried to restrain.
She bared her teeth like a sick and maddened hound
until around her neck I arranged the strands
of the silver chain, like pearls I was stringing.
As her last request, she wore her wedding dress
and she kissed me at the cemetery gate.
I buried her with her sterling silver chain
and as for me, I’ll never forget her name.
The Thirsty One – a Rubaiyat
by Mendur
Say, “Once upon a time,” the tale’s begun,
an ancient legend called “The Thirsty One,”
whose evil hides itself in human shape;
it prowls by night and cowers from the sun.
Its native land, it ruled by death and rape,
a far off place of olive, and of grape.
Its people learned its weaknesses and flaws,
and hunted it until it did escape.
Despite its fearsome strength, sharp fangs and claws,
it’s bound by powerful and ancient laws.
Our fathers’ fathers learned the many ways
to stop the beast and close its dreadful jaws.
It fears the sunlight’s warm and gentle rays;
A mirror, bright, can catch its deadly gaze;
When blocked by running water, it can’t pass;
and garlic’s scent creates a mental haze.
To slay it, though, took hearts as cold as brass
with silver weapons of the highest class;
to wait and then destroy it as it killed
the sacrificial bait, a virgin lass.
Yes, well this tale may leave your marrow chilled.
To battle fiends takes strong men, iron-willed.
But I am weary now, the tale is done,
so pass the ale and let my tongue be stilled.
The Monsters – an English sonnet
by Mendur
They sang of vicious Varney in the streets
in penny dreadful tales of blood and gore,
for those who yawned at Browning or at Keats,
and those who found the Brontes just a bore.
Count Dracula was viewed upon the stage
by some who reveled in sadistic glee
at Springheel Jack’s dark deeds upon the page
while sitting down in style to their High Tea.
Lestat seduced, through Rice’s prose so bright,
his fans to emulate his “rock star” way,
despite the murders he commits each night.
To gain his “gift”? A price they’d gladly pay.
The world is full of monsters to abhor,
but some of the most vile might live next door.
The Childe – a pantoum
by Mendur
The night cries out for blood in evil joy
as hunting monsters unleash pain and dread,
and no one ever would suspect the boy.
Another village lass discovered, dead.
As hunting monsters unleash pain and dread
the peasants raise their silver crosses high.
Another village lass discovered, dead.
I ponder what mistakes I made and why.
The peasants raise their silver crosses high.
Faith renders them quite dangerous and wild.
I ponder what mistakes I made and why
I chose that boy as my eternal childe.
Faith renders them quite dangerous and wild.
They quickly turned against me in their fright.
I chose that boy as my eternal childe
yet he betrayed me to my death tonight.
They quickly turned against me in their fright
and no one ever would suspect the boy
yet he betrayed me to my death tonight.
The night cries out for blood in evil joy.
Parted – a Ghazal
by Mendur
I wish that you were there when it was done, my dear.
With you, I could have stayed and fought, or run, my dear.
That night, we danced and let the world go drifting by,
while vicious Fate arranged its evil fun, my dear.
Your father called and bid you to come home too soon.
Your chaperone warned, “Scandal, you must shun, my dear.”
So, I was left too many hours to kill and with
some men drank beer by keg and wine by tun, my dear.
Then, drunk, I wandered down the quiet, lonely streets,
And somewhere in the darkness, was undone, my dear.
Though I recall no detail after that, I felt
our love cut short before it was begun, my dear.
My black heart knows that if I stay I’d do you harm.
I’d take you like the savage, snarling Hun, my dear.
No, you can never join me in this bloody hell,
for vile and upside-down my world has spun, my dear.
Please, learn from me and live with all the love you can
and someday find and wed that special one, my dear.
Now, with the help of poet Mendur, my old friend,
I’ll say good-bye and walk into the sun, my dear.
NOTE: The final poem is a carmina figurata with two stanzas. I have not figured out how to center the text on this blog (being technologically behind the times by about ten years). To view this last poem correctly, please copy it to a word file in Courier font and center it.
Two Hunters – a carmina figurata poem
by Mendur
the hunter seeks flawlessness,
the most wondrous chalice.
he searches in the manors
he searches in the alleys
he searches in the clubs
until he finds his ideal.
on such a perfect night
what shall it contain?
sweet
pure
red
blood.
this human vessel
the container of life itself.
The man
who hunts
a hunter
must be
full of all of the best qualities of this life
even as he seeks the death of the evil man
who causes the death of so many others.
This man
will hunt
and will
be hunted by
his prey.
He goes
with God
and he knows
each day may be
the last day of his life.
I've been working on my "Vampire Cycle", an example of each kind of poem using vampires as the theme, for about a year, on and off. I'm not even close to done but I think vampires have reached the end of their current popularity, with the newest "Twilight" movie and vampire TV series being cancelled. So, for all you fans of "Forever Knight", "Blood Ties", "True Blood", "Twilight" and all the rest, I'm posting my incomplete "Vampire Cycle". Enjoy.
Afterward – a haiku
by Mendur
Moonlight in winter –
Daintily, she wipes the blood
from her dark red lips.
Decision - an acrostic poem
by Mendur
Villains in black and white at a Satuday matinee;
Amoral predators doing what comes naturally to their prey;
Mesmerizing others with their beauty and their power;
Pleasant, some, and some are cruel while others are just dour.
Immortality’s a deal, even at the cost of sunrise.
Red, the blood upon their lips; red, the danger in their eyes;
Evil monsters, some will say, and some will call them cursed.
Still, if given such a chance, I’d welcome their dark thirst.
Eternal Love – a sijo
by Mendur
I slip into the arms of night; her cool breeze embraces me.
She comes to me every eve and brings my prey out to play.
She never disappoints me. What other lover do I need?
Habit – a cinquain a la Adelaide Crapsey
by Mendur
Blood calls.
Wander the night.
Seek the one that will die.
Kill, feed, thrill, then live with the guilt …
… again.
Caress – a rondeau
by Mendur
His cold caress will desecrate
your soul with seething, ruthless hate.
Hot blood he'll take with jagged pain
that leaves behind a crimson stain;
the teeth marks, his defining trait.
A man who held his life too great
said, "Death, my friend, you'll have to wait."
But now he seeks from Death, in vain,
His cold caress.
Four hundred years, a heavy weight
with thirst that he can never sate.
Some nights, he howls and damns the rain
but dawn must come and night must wane.
He hides, then, and bemoans his fate,
his cold caress.
Silver Chain – a canzone
by Mendur
Her birthday present, a sterling silver chain
to show my dear love how, by her, I was bound.
Our delight assured, we made our wedding plans:
a feast for all, a dance and church bells ringing.
How blind we were, then, and yet how could we guess
or learn the plot of vicious and cruel fate?
Oh, my love, she wore my sterling silver chain
and as for me, I’ll never forget her name.
He arrived with fine clothes and a gold-topped cane
but, oddness there, his boots never made a sound.
Exotic, he was, this guest from distant lands.
I did not believe the threat he was bringing,
anot even when, from my love, he begged a tress
of her golden hair, one night, when it was late.
Oh, my love, she wore my sterling silver chain
and as for me, I’ll never forget her name.
If I knew what was to come, I’d be insane.
My love, she disappeared and could not be found.
One night, she returned with bloodstains on her hands.
She said she’d heard that damned scoundrel singing
and next she knew she felt his cold caress
and the need for blood turned love into foul hate.
Oh, my love, she threw away the silver chain
but as for me, I’ll never forget her name.
That my love was now a monster caused me pain
but the greater evil waited in the ground
and I knew the course that honor’s code demands.
I led the men into the cold rain, stinging,
until from the demon we took redress
and through his heart we drove a stake, good and straight.
For my love, I recovered her silver chain.
And as for me, I’ll never forget her name.
When we returned, my love we tried to restrain.
She bared her teeth like a sick and maddened hound
until around her neck I arranged the strands
of the silver chain, like pearls I was stringing.
As her last request, she wore her wedding dress
and she kissed me at the cemetery gate.
I buried her with her sterling silver chain
and as for me, I’ll never forget her name.
The Thirsty One – a Rubaiyat
by Mendur
Say, “Once upon a time,” the tale’s begun,
an ancient legend called “The Thirsty One,”
whose evil hides itself in human shape;
it prowls by night and cowers from the sun.
Its native land, it ruled by death and rape,
a far off place of olive, and of grape.
Its people learned its weaknesses and flaws,
and hunted it until it did escape.
Despite its fearsome strength, sharp fangs and claws,
it’s bound by powerful and ancient laws.
Our fathers’ fathers learned the many ways
to stop the beast and close its dreadful jaws.
It fears the sunlight’s warm and gentle rays;
A mirror, bright, can catch its deadly gaze;
When blocked by running water, it can’t pass;
and garlic’s scent creates a mental haze.
To slay it, though, took hearts as cold as brass
with silver weapons of the highest class;
to wait and then destroy it as it killed
the sacrificial bait, a virgin lass.
Yes, well this tale may leave your marrow chilled.
To battle fiends takes strong men, iron-willed.
But I am weary now, the tale is done,
so pass the ale and let my tongue be stilled.
The Monsters – an English sonnet
by Mendur
They sang of vicious Varney in the streets
in penny dreadful tales of blood and gore,
for those who yawned at Browning or at Keats,
and those who found the Brontes just a bore.
Count Dracula was viewed upon the stage
by some who reveled in sadistic glee
at Springheel Jack’s dark deeds upon the page
while sitting down in style to their High Tea.
Lestat seduced, through Rice’s prose so bright,
his fans to emulate his “rock star” way,
despite the murders he commits each night.
To gain his “gift”? A price they’d gladly pay.
The world is full of monsters to abhor,
but some of the most vile might live next door.
The Childe – a pantoum
by Mendur
The night cries out for blood in evil joy
as hunting monsters unleash pain and dread,
and no one ever would suspect the boy.
Another village lass discovered, dead.
As hunting monsters unleash pain and dread
the peasants raise their silver crosses high.
Another village lass discovered, dead.
I ponder what mistakes I made and why.
The peasants raise their silver crosses high.
Faith renders them quite dangerous and wild.
I ponder what mistakes I made and why
I chose that boy as my eternal childe.
Faith renders them quite dangerous and wild.
They quickly turned against me in their fright.
I chose that boy as my eternal childe
yet he betrayed me to my death tonight.
They quickly turned against me in their fright
and no one ever would suspect the boy
yet he betrayed me to my death tonight.
The night cries out for blood in evil joy.
Parted – a Ghazal
by Mendur
I wish that you were there when it was done, my dear.
With you, I could have stayed and fought, or run, my dear.
That night, we danced and let the world go drifting by,
while vicious Fate arranged its evil fun, my dear.
Your father called and bid you to come home too soon.
Your chaperone warned, “Scandal, you must shun, my dear.”
So, I was left too many hours to kill and with
some men drank beer by keg and wine by tun, my dear.
Then, drunk, I wandered down the quiet, lonely streets,
And somewhere in the darkness, was undone, my dear.
Though I recall no detail after that, I felt
our love cut short before it was begun, my dear.
My black heart knows that if I stay I’d do you harm.
I’d take you like the savage, snarling Hun, my dear.
No, you can never join me in this bloody hell,
for vile and upside-down my world has spun, my dear.
Please, learn from me and live with all the love you can
and someday find and wed that special one, my dear.
Now, with the help of poet Mendur, my old friend,
I’ll say good-bye and walk into the sun, my dear.
NOTE: The final poem is a carmina figurata with two stanzas. I have not figured out how to center the text on this blog (being technologically behind the times by about ten years). To view this last poem correctly, please copy it to a word file in Courier font and center it.
Two Hunters – a carmina figurata poem
by Mendur
the hunter seeks flawlessness,
the most wondrous chalice.
he searches in the manors
he searches in the alleys
he searches in the clubs
until he finds his ideal.
on such a perfect night
what shall it contain?
sweet
pure
red
blood.
this human vessel
the container of life itself.
The man
who hunts
a hunter
must be
full of all of the best qualities of this life
even as he seeks the death of the evil man
who causes the death of so many others.
This man
will hunt
and will
be hunted by
his prey.
He goes
with God
and he knows
each day may be
the last day of his life.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
3WW: "Jingoism"
3 W W words: accident, loyal, obscene
Jingoism - a haiku
by Mendur
Why do the "loyal"
commit obscene acts in war?
It's no accident.
.
Jingoism - a haiku
by Mendur
Why do the "loyal"
commit obscene acts in war?
It's no accident.
.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
3WW: "Distracted Poet"
3 W W words: errant, hanker, murky
Distracted Poet - a haiku
by Mendur
Errant, silly thoughts ...
"hanker for a hunk of cheese"
... make for murky verse.
.
Distracted Poet - a haiku
by Mendur
Errant, silly thoughts ...
"hanker for a hunk of cheese"
... make for murky verse.
.
Friday, November 6, 2009
3WW: "Life Sentence"
3WW words: karma obey wither
Life Sentence - a haiku
by Mendur
He obeys his wife,
with her withering abuse.
Karma is a bitch.
.
Life Sentence - a haiku
by Mendur
He obeys his wife,
with her withering abuse.
Karma is a bitch.
.
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