Armchair #haibun

this was written for tonights monday #haibun challange at #dversepoets pub

There he sits . His knowledge never lived.

Gogglebox drop fed straight to his diseased mind.

His gardens arboreal skeletons mean no more than a hiding place.

The sky above this house burns like hellfire.

Hellfire marsh photo by Simon Luckman

The marsh of hellfire hides his victims

School uniforms his pleasure. A collection he keeps under his bed

A police cordon surrounds his house every October 31st.

Until the kiddies firebombed his abode.

Curtains twitching

Childhood monster lives within

Innocents snatches loose

Sound bar

hello #dverse poets today we have looked at compound word verse . this took me an age. but hay hoa nothing ventured nothing gained.

Taken back in the day

All I wanted was music of funk,

But lost teenage years getting drunk,

At sound-bar.

Working alone never be brave,

It only leads you to an early grave,

With crow-bar.

Over eat if you dare on rare steak,

Until your waist elastic breaks,

Candy bar

Run, dance hop or drive to get home,

But Peddling pumps heart better over Chrome,

 My Cross-bar

 Old age creeps up without a fight,

Ending my working days quite right,

At sound bar.

© 21/10/2021 rogleach

Lost and Found

Tonight at #dverse we have been shown some wonderful poems about being lost. and given two options. 1) write a response to one of the poems shared, or

2) re write a lost poem as a found poem.

i have attempted the second option. as one of the examples given reminded me of my chilhood.

Lost in the Forest”

Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig
and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips:
maybe it was the voice of the rain crying,
a cracked bell, or a torn heart.

Something from far off it seemed
deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth,
a shout muffled by huge autumns,
by the moist half-open darkness of the leaves.

Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig
sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance
climbed up through my conscious mind

as if suddenly the roots I had left behind
cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood—
and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent.”

scent of pine

 childhood forest revisited

(Based on the above poem “lost in the forest” by Pablo Neruda)

 lost in my childhood’s forest

Where I got lost in play,

I would escape the crying rain,

Of my parents torn hearts,

As their marriage failed.

A happy future

Something far off it seemed,

A deep secret hidden from my child self.

The shout of pine scent suddenly

Revives the roots I left behind

As I climb through my sentient mind

To teach me the way to behave

For my children. As I find the memories

Of lost in the forest as the rain cries.

And sing this for all to hear.

© 19/10/2021 rog leach