Jeffrey Winke lives in Milwaukee, Wisconsin in a suburban condo mere blocks from Lake Michigan. He writes haiku, haibun, and articles about heavy equipment moving dirt.
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is haiku poetry? some but not all?
are all poets poets? like zen masters,
poets never call themselves poets, who
needs the stench of it? these days, “poets”
are a dime a dozen. who is charlie rossiter
anyway?
…wondering what i was doing in 2005″. and after nearly 4 years, sylvain, your question remains unanswered. akin to carly simon’s “you’re so vain”, after 30 years we’re yet wondering (who). funny thought, “it could have been me”.
–
in season
bougainvillaea blossoms–
never seem out of season
outside the fair
childhood memory
fills my mind
barker, resounding in the wind
cross the vacant grounds
the crowd’s litter
october beach deserted
tea house boarded up
bright graffiti
October winds-
the last home run
thrown back
Kate
hot bleachers
the wind stirs the trees
in season –
the snowbirds
return to miami beach
–
JJ
the old philosopher asks. . .
are you so vain you think this response is about you? are they ever?
is haiku poetry? some but not all?
are all poets poets? like zen masters,
poets never call themselves poets, who
needs the stench of it? these days, “poets”
are a dime a dozen. who is charlie rossiter
anyway?
off season
deer return
to the campground
…wondering what i was doing in 2005″. and after nearly 4 years, sylvain, your question remains unanswered. akin to carly simon’s “you’re so vain”, after 30 years we’re yet wondering (who). funny thought, “it could have been me”.
–
in season
bougainvillaea blossoms–
never seem out of season