as ‘rules for haiku’.
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The tale I have to tell, children,
PARENTAL SUPERVISION IS ADVISED;though on the other hand,as moral tales should, it hasa happy Dickensian ending,where, as moral tales should tell,the last state is infinitely better than the first;and perhaps, who knows, your parentsmay even benefit from the tellingthough, naturally, without mentioning the fact.’Twas Christmas Eve. The Smugg familywere sitting around their fine dining tablemade…
The older couple who’ve set down
not too far from the old Lincolninhabit three islands of peacewhich by the time we’re their agewe’ll know perhaps to envy:his peace, and hers, and theirs:neither got high grades, butthey’re wise enough to knowafter all those years togetherthose three islands; watch them with discretionand join them if you can across the years;in that third island…
If you notice that solitude is great,
For what would solitude bethat had no greatness? There isbut one solitude, and that is great,and not easy to bear,and to almost everybody come hourswhen they would gladly erxchange it for any sort of intercourse,however banal and cheap; with the first comer,with the unworthiest…but perhaps those are the very hourswhen solitude grows, forits growing is…
It’s the weekend – but
time, perhaps, for retail therapy…the girls, the boys, go about it differently:with the girls, a sense of purpose:phone your Best Shopping Friend, arrange to meet;for the boys, it has to be covert, set upas accidental, just a diversionon the way to pub or café..Your best friend senses that you’re low;so gently teases you by dragging…
Everyone’s talking about her
talking about her on their TV sofas,breakfast and evening celeb shows,at the hairdresser, in the bus queues..‘Juno Watt? I’ve been asked to do TV…’‘Juno Watt? I’ve got tickets to Mariah’s tour…’‘Juno Watt? He’s proposed to me! ! ’And the columnists are asking,‘Will she last through to next year?Will it be Celebrity Hopscotch for herOr Celebrity…
Look at this old photograph..
more ancient than their, what,hundred-and-twenty years;as if the very air was different, then?This one’s simply oftwo birds in a tree:one sits and watches;the other eats the fruits..this moment, frozen, framed, in time,takes on the epic statureof a metaphor, a myth:what of the previous secondin our passing time? Whatof the next second?Where have those birds come…