a fly on the creamer
so i drink my coffee black
sunday morning brunch
Published by
Bret Wooldridge
Bret Wooldridge is a 46 year old blue collar worker in Northern California. He plays guitar when he's not scribbling verse. "If you allow them to, ordinary things want to show you they are special."
View all posts by Bret Wooldridge
15 thoughts on “”
through the railings
sun settling low —
the spider’s web
Sorry, this has got nothing to do with Bret’s Haiku. Just a simple Haiku in memory of Gandhi, the apostle of peace, who was assassinated on January 30, 1948 in New Delhi when he was on his way to offer prayers for peace.
————————-
30 January, 2005 –
Insanity turns
fifty seven today
kamesh,
feeling compelled to write, my response being “no need to apologize”. often time my thoughts are generated from who knows where; or better said, “from what happens to come to mind, inspired from a time before?”. too often, others adhere to strict rules and policies, which tends to hamper their creativity …
thank you for sharing
basho is credit with saying –
“learn the rules; then forget the rules”
morning stillness
upon the lake —
duck silently glides
A fly in my coffee
throw the fly out
and drink my coffee
This wll be the typical reaction of we Indians (not the red indians, I mean the people of India). We have a memory of some scarcity/famine/drought ingrained in our genes. So everything that comes into the house never goes out – Cardboard boxes, plastic, bottles, polythene covers, and the like. Why waste tea then?
Anyway flies have proteins in them and tea is too hot for bacteria to survive.
kamesh, true, and yet my words were the imaginary “what if”.
can you fancy other poets, while enjoying a cup of this caffeine elixir, pondering what the masters would have brewed from a pot of coffee; rather heady stuff.
from the cup
swarm of flies ***
quite the buzz
for lack of decaffeinated
don’t know how this piece became
a political football, but i’d a
used the creamer if i was inclined to
drink my joe in that manner. plenty
of folks here in dixie is still down
and out!
through the railings
sun settling low —
the spider’s web
–
first sushi—
a double martini
first
a fly in my mug
so i throw the coffee out
and drink tea instead
Sorry, this has got nothing to do with Bret’s Haiku. Just a simple Haiku in memory of Gandhi, the apostle of peace, who was assassinated on January 30, 1948 in New Delhi when he was on his way to offer prayers for peace.
————————-
30 January, 2005 –
Insanity turns
fifty seven today
kamesh,
feeling compelled to write, my response being “no need to apologize”. often time my thoughts are generated from who knows where; or better said, “from what happens to come to mind, inspired from a time before?”. too often, others adhere to strict rules and policies, which tends to hamper their creativity …
thank you for sharing
basho is credit with saying –
“learn the rules; then forget the rules”
morning stillness
upon the lake —
duck silently glides
fly
dodging
me
weight of the comforter
made by Grandmother,
Mother, and me
my turn
to pray
for peace
A fly in my coffee
throw the fly out
and drink my coffee
This wll be the typical reaction of we Indians (not the red indians, I mean the people of India). We have a memory of some scarcity/famine/drought ingrained in our genes. So everything that comes into the house never goes out – Cardboard boxes, plastic, bottles, polythene covers, and the like. Why waste tea then?
Anyway flies have proteins in them and tea is too hot for bacteria to survive.
kamesh, “your words are food for thought”
sadly, this world has become a “discard society”.
another thought comes to the forefront, “waste not, want not”.
enlightening february dawn —
broken pallet
at water’s edge
parting thought, should i continue to drink my tea cold, at times.
Fly thrown out
but coffee cold –
He hesitates…
kamesh, i ponder basho conceivably writing:
morning silence
the fly’s buzz end
sinking further within my java
or possibly buson scribbling:
fly landing
on the rim of my cup
the last drop just as black
what about issa noting:
in the traveler’s cup
a few drops of coffee
and yet, this fly
as bret has observed, the “ordinary” possesses an air of speciality if taken the time to be perceived
Fantastic bob, especially the last one. But Bob, Coffee was introduced in Japan only in the twentieth century!!!
a second fly
the traveler smiles
empty tea cup
kamesh, true, and yet my words were the imaginary “what if”.
can you fancy other poets, while enjoying a cup of this caffeine elixir, pondering what the masters would have brewed from a pot of coffee; rather heady stuff.
from the cup
swarm of flies ***
quite the buzz
for lack of decaffeinated
don’t know how this piece became
a political football, but i’d a
used the creamer if i was inclined to
drink my joe in that manner. plenty
of folks here in dixie is still down
and out!
winter railyard
the heat from one can
of sterno
having landed
fly buzz left no trace–
winter breakfast thoughts