moonless night–
the smell of the pond
in the bull frog’s cry
Published by
martin gottlieb cohen
Martin Cohen was born in the South Bronx somewhere on Simpson Street, went to a Yeshiva on East Broadway and Canal Street, and then lived in the South of Brooklyn, the South of Long Island, The Southern Tier of Upstate New York, The South of Manhattan, and finally South Jersey in Egg Harbor.
View all posts by martin gottlieb cohen
ok, but one that seems to have been written
a tousand times before. always nice to see work
in this genre that breaks new ground. too
many moon pieces and too many frog pieces as
it is let alone to combine these two tired
images in one piece.
red moon
an old man recalls
how mao slayed the dragon
one moon
it wobbles in the window
of tang’s opium parlor
Martin’s poem is not about the moon. Perhaps, it is not about the frog. It could be about the the smell of the pond … and it very artfully uses the changing of the senses–sound of the cry to smell of the pond–to make this a very noteworthy haiku.
I like your poems, but in and effort to “break ground,” you moved to senryu. Perhaps your tidium is not with moon and frogs but with haiku. ?
ed, i wonder; for lack of, even this brings thoughts of.
bob’s rendition
dark covered moon –
pond’s aroma
bull frog groan
and yet, finding ourselves covered in darkness, who knows what fills our minds, enhanced by whatever fills the air
could this moonless night be about a moment of despair, held captive, as i’d like to think; or was martin’s haiku simply a snapshot in the dark, without regards to what was really going on
forgotten
umbrella by the door;
wet cat
twilight chorus
song of the whippoorwill
distant in the wood
moonless night
scent of her newly washed laundry
trails the air
Moon lights up.
Endless venom.
Another hateful dinnertime.
ok, but one that seems to have been written
a tousand times before. always nice to see work
in this genre that breaks new ground. too
many moon pieces and too many frog pieces as
it is let alone to combine these two tired
images in one piece.
red moon
an old man recalls
how mao slayed the dragon
one moon
it wobbles in the window
of tang’s opium parlor
Martin’s poem is not about the moon. Perhaps, it is not about the frog. It could be about the the smell of the pond … and it very artfully uses the changing of the senses–sound of the cry to smell of the pond–to make this a very noteworthy haiku.
I like your poems, but in and effort to “break ground,” you moved to senryu. Perhaps your tidium is not with moon and frogs but with haiku. ?
Regards, Ed
ed, i wonder; for lack of, even this brings thoughts of.
bob’s rendition
dark covered moon –
pond’s aroma
bull frog groan
and yet, finding ourselves covered in darkness, who knows what fills our minds, enhanced by whatever fills the air
could this moonless night be about a moment of despair, held captive, as i’d like to think; or was martin’s haiku simply a snapshot in the dark, without regards to what was really going on
spring scented salad
there’s a reason they call it
skunk cabbage
snow white, this ibis
‘longside the cracked sidewalk–
this dirty snow