Haiku In Colours
van gogh
in the field
etching haiku
onto canvas
each stroke
a colourful haiku
for posterity
sunflowers
eleven brothers vie
for attention
the fortunate ones
coloured bright yellow
the rest resign
themselves to fate
bow humbly
and live in the others' shadows
eleven lucky blooms
worth more than a hundred millions
they do not fit into my pot
but in my heart they blaze in glory, always
van gogh's genius pours
unrelentingly
from eye to eye,
heart to heart
igniting the artist's passion
in each of us
once in a while, i too feel like
etching haiku in colours
encapsulating that extraordinary moment
ideas in wondrous colours, shapes and dreams
so that they too would turn out to be loving works of insanity
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Related quotes
Non-haiku
it was you who one day wrote a haiku
and she counted
on the strictest 5/7/5
or the 5/7/5/77 count
you do not really know what haiku is
you just like to write
and say anything your heart wants to say
in your brokenness
nurturing day and night your broken heart
when she left you for another uglier man
this really hurts
you are smart
the next day, the title of your poem changed
non-haiku for you
how can i argue?
with a smart broken-hearted ass?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Haiku, stay with me..
Haiku, I feel so lonely..
Haiku, you and me.
haiku by Spiritual Seeker
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Hum The Haiku is a Funny Bird
The Haiku is a funny bird
Which roosts not in a tree,
It looks around with wondrous eye
And whispers much to me.
He looks him up, he looks him down,
He looks around the fields and town,
And when his wondrous eyes do caper
It's time to grab a pen and paper.
For then the Haiku shows his skill
And sets to verse most anything;
I fold my hands and grateful bow
Then feed him fish or sometimes chow.
poem by Mill Field
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Haiku no fake who
Go to mountain shout Haiku
Echo back, more Haiku's
haiku by Ken e Hall
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humbly haiku
i beg you to give me poems
haiku said, no way
haiku by Chris Bowen
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a haiku said once,
where do you get your haiku?
from a haiku tree
haiku by Chris Bowen
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The Colours Of Love
The colours of love,
The colours of unity,
The colours of peace,
The colours of humility,
the colours of care,
The colours of passion,
The colours of romance,
The colours of the mind,
The colours of your works,
The colours of mankind;
But, let true love come out from your heart!
For, in peace and unity we have to live on this earth together:
Than, the bullets of war that divides us always! ! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Haiku Rule is No Rule
all the haiku rules
are no rule except
the three liner
i would concur
besides that
you can turn things
upside down
create another realm
with your words
so long as they jolt
the heart to things as banal
as a frog jumping
into an old pond
strike the mind
to give it another
good reason
for its existence
how could there be rules
when the world paints itself
in a thousand languages
throws as many idiosyncracies
as would civilisations draw up rules
for each of its endeavours
remember picasso, van gogh,
how they rule the canvas
and our 'rule abiding' selves
with their no-rule colours and strokes
how could there be a rule
when water like my core
could run in all directions
when this mind could jump
from moon to sun
and a far flung planet
in one second
when these eyes ould
see stars, planets, and suns
in this physique alone:
sun, planets, stars
these moles
all over my body
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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i want to haiku
i told haiku and he said
haiku, chris, haiku
haiku by Chris Bowen
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Gazing At Sunflowers
Your first wife’s friend
came in with her
for a coffee and chat
and you were sitting
on the sofa
with the sleeping cat
and she looked
at the Van Gogh print
of sunflowers
over the mantelpiece
above the open fire
did you paint that?
the friend asked
staring at it
through John Lennon
type glasses
no you said
it’s a Van Gogh print
oh she said
peering closer
I do like flowers don’t you?
Yeah you replied
sunflowers have a way
when Van Gogh
pushes them through
and she stood in silence
taking in the print
and flowers
and colours
and you noticed
she had a run
in her stockings
from the back
of her knee
to where
her thigh disappeared
beneath her drab dress
and your first wife
came in and said
oh you’re not looking
at that painting are you?
He knows all about
those arty types
with their odd ways
and weird eyes
and her friend said
turning round
scratching her ass
I know nothing
of art and such
it’s way out
of my class.
poem by Terry Collett
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dear Poet Haiku
if me see another copycat haiku
me surely go cuckoo
haiku by Raj Arumugam
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haiku, dance for me
so haiku spins 'round the house
turning and spinning
haiku by Chris Bowen
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haiku and blues clues
haiku loves blue and steven
'write me in, 'he says
haiku by Chris Bowen
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myself and haiku
went downtown shoppin for rhymes
haiku said no way
haiku by Chris Bowen
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i write to haiku
although haiku is lil weird
and they can hear us
haiku by Chris Bowen
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Upon Gazing At The Cut Sunflowers Of Vincent Van Gogh
upon seeing the cut sunflowers of vincent van gogh
i cannot but think about the tragic moment when
he cut his ear, when blood oozed
when at the end, finally he took his life away,
this thing happens when one knows much about
the life of another
this familiarity that breeds contempt,
and so gazing again at the painting of vincent,
i start with real sunflowers in my mind, the one that mother
planted in her garden when she was alive,
i think of the sun and the sunshine touching my face
i think about warmth and life and oozing verve
the vivacity of all things around my little world,
the field of sunflowers and the bees and the butterflies
and birds
i pretend i have not read about the life of vincent
i pretend i have not heard about the stories of mother
i just gaze again at the cut sunflowers. just that.
now there is joy in my heart. The suicide story does not exist
in the bold yellow petals, on those three huge sunflowers
look at them again, they are the symbols of our smiles.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sunflowers After Sex.
After the sex she stood
In front of the Van Gogh
Painting and gazed. Never
Saw that last night, she said.
It was dark, Max replied.
She touched the painting
With her fingers. Why have
A painting of flowers when
You can go out and buy some?
She asked. They last longer this
Way, he replied. So did you
Paint this? She asked in a state
Of semi undress, her eyes sleepy,
Her hair in a mess. No, Van Gogh
Did, he replied. Is he a friend of
Yours? She asked rubbing her breasts.
He sighed and shook his head. No,
Van Gogh painted that many years
Ago, now he’s dead. It’s a bit yellow,
She said, looking at the painting
Closer, what are those yellow flowers
Supposed to be? Sunflowers, he said,
They’re big flowers; people grow them
For real. She raised her eyebrows and
Pulled a face. What about that drink?
She asked. Sure, Max replied pouring
Her gin in a tall glass. She took, sipped
And winked an eye. What about more
Sex? She sighed. Sure, Max, looking at
Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, boringly replied.
poem by Terry Collett
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haiku, where are you?
haiku's outside my window
jumping up and in
haiku by Chris Bowen
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well, damn! if my haiku
is not haiku
i’ll just call it rajku!
haiku by Raj Arumugam
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a haiku outside
he comes to my window, says
haiku's are happ'nin
haiku by Chris Bowen
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