nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
On the Dress of a Traveler Ascending from the Subway

Thought you were hardcore,
Bald guy in shirtsleeves, till you
Put on that ski cap

      This frosty bright March morning.
      (Brr! Wish I'd thought to wear mine!)
nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
Beneath sullen clouds,
chill air whispers, presaging
sleet's derisive hiss.
nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
Pale in the gray dawn,
a frozen puddle preserves
night's scattered snowflakes.
nebroadwe: (Bear)
Thanks for the gift, [livejournal.com profile] evil_little_dog! Om nom nom ...
Until the first flake
Melts on the tongue, can we say
It's truly winter?

nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
Title: Sonnet: Ursa Departs
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Character(s): Ursa
Pairing(s): None.
Rating: G
Word Count: 107
Warnings: None.
A/N: I was mugged by a sonnet on Friday and spent the weekend recovering from the shock and then pummeling the mugger into (barely) postable shape. Sonnets are hard -- and I'm not sure why I keep diving into seventeenth-century poetry and poetic forms when I write Avatar 'fic -- cf. here and here -- but perhaps it has something to do with being an English major. Concrit welcomed with pretty rooms (and bonus gold to aery thinness beat to anyone who spots the reference :-). Crossposted from [livejournal.com profile] nebroadwe to [livejournal.com profile] avatar_fans and [livejournal.com profile] avatarfic.
Dedication(s): For William Shakespeare, il miglior fabbro.



She's never gone but where her going's known
Nor come but where her welcome is assured --
Hawk-heralded, by rumor's wings outflown;
What's needful to her comfort long procured
Or whistled up in haste; her way prepared
By liv'ried outriders, as fits her state;
Her hosts all deference, no effort spared
To earn her gentle protest of surfeit --
Till now, when with laborious steps and sore,
She gains the ridge's broken summit, spent --
Behind, the royal court, her home no more;
Ahead, the desert of her banishment --
Like an explorer at the utmost North,
For whom all ways are one, and that one, forth.



[Acknowledgments: Avatar: The Last Airbender was created by Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko; copyright for this property is held by Viacom International, Inc. All rights reserved.]
nebroadwe: (Bear)
I took in a professional baseball game last night. It was Faith and Family Night, which meant that we were favored with a creditable version of the American national anthem and a rousing rendition of "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" by gospel choirs. (Aside: if I ran the universe, the American national anthem would not be permitted to be sung by anything smaller than a quartet, and the seventh-inning stretch would always be solemnized by "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" -- not by "God Bless America" or anything else. Potential minions, take note.) Then the visiting team opened up a three-run lead in the first and it was all downhill from there.

And it rained.

Not apocalyptic rain, with hail and thunder, but a gentle, persistent, chilly drizzle. There's something very "Casey At the Bat" about sitting in the cheap seats swathed in a plastic poncho and watching your team lose in that kind of rain. People started leaving in the fifth, which I couldn't quite fathom: even the cheap seats are cheap only by comparison to the leather-chrome-and-champagne luxury boxes, and my team has demonstrated a penchant for improbable late-inning comebacks over the season thus far. They managed to load the bases in the ninth, but the opposing manager wisely switched pitchers and that was the end of that. Ah, well. We'll get 'em next time.
nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
Last weather report of 2008 from the top of the hill:
Northeast wind bends trees,
Unfurls fringed scarves like pennons,
And sweeps sidewalks bare,
Clearing the old year away,
Clearing the old year away.
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] just_tanka.
nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
This one's for you, [livejournal.com profile] nateprentice, and your lovely wife:
Ah! Alone at last,
Two forms make one silhouette,
Limned by candles' light.
Remember to blow them out
Before wax drips on the cake.
Many happy returns(es) of the day(s)!
nebroadwe: (Books)
It's largely because she wrote this poem:
I dreamed I went to Heaven, and in the bookshop there,
I went, the way I always go, to R,
Even though I've all the Renault, even though it isn't fair,
Even though I know there won't be any more.

And there were six new Renault, six new books I'd never seen,
Six unknown books she'd written since she died,
And I picked them up and held them, feeling happy as a queen,
And a voice said, "Have you looked the other side?

"There are four new Tolkiens waiting (he could never write them fast);
There are thirty Heinleins, written at his best;
There is Piper, there's Dunsany, there's more Sayers here at last,
And O'Brian, and Zelazny, and the rest."

And I staggered there in Heaven, as my arms and eyes spilled o'er,
And I said, "Now where to start, I just don't know --
I am rich in wealth of Heaven's books, here gathered on the floor,
And four hundred years of Shakespeare still to go."
It also helps that Walton wrote The King's Name and The King's Peace, the best alt-King Arthur I've read, and Farthing, among the best modern alt-hist. But this poem is simply ... apt. Myself, I am inclined to think that it would be a poor life in a land where no libraries (or bookshops) throve, but, sadly, if there are libraries (or bookshops) beyond the Great Sea, none has reported it.
nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
In response to a tanka in response to my tanka of yesterday:
Lifted by the wind,
Leaves tentative as fledglings
Uncurl, stretch, flutter:
Plenty of time to practice
Before their fall migration.
[Crossposted, again, to [livejournal.com profile] just_tanka.]
nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
[livejournal.com profile] ishte reminds me that today is the last day of National Poetry Month. 'Tis spring, 'tis spring: the verses are on the wing -- not that I noticed, sadly.
Cherry petals fell.
Magnolia blossoms withered.
Lilacs evanesced.
Somebody tell the dogwoods
They're just showing off now, huh?
Oh, well, maybe next year ...

[Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] just_tanka.]
nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
Just a haiku this year to show willing:
Two children swinging,
Side by side, one up, one down,
Seldom together.
More information (and lots of free stuff) over on [livejournal.com profile] ipstp.
nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
Happy Birthday, [livejournal.com profile] evil_little_dog! In honor of the day, Edward Elric and I present the following tanka:
"Just here for the food!"
Loitering beside the cake
As the candles burn,
He won't let you blow them out,
The youngest State -- Arsonist?
Ed claims there's an age joke in there, but I think he's just kidding himself ...

Many happy returns of the day!
nebroadwe: (Bear)
... that [livejournal.com profile] rabican had a LOLcat-inspired moment of genius while reading William Carlos Williams recently. Share and enjoy.
nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
Pushing a book truck
Across the worn, pilled carpet,
I pass a window:
Silently thronging the air,
Snowflakes drift earthward. Surprise!
Inspired by yesterday's weather, composed primarily on the edge of sleep last night, and -- mirabile dictu! -- not forgotten by dawn, this poem does not explain why I then dreamed about commuting barefoot to work during a summer flood. Eugh.

Untitled #11 under the cut. )
nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
Overnight the wind
Stripped the Norway maples bare.
Now chattering leaves
Cross rimed streets against the light,
Chasing the children to school.
[Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] just_tanka here.]
nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
Cash-green roof slates crash
Onto sidewalk, shattering.
Must get a man in.
(What he'll charge makes me conclude
He shingles with dollar bills.)
[Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] just_tanka.]
nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
Just to prove that, in addition to dishing it out, I have to take it, editorially speaking ...

My friend Marian today defends her doctoral thesis. In honor of the occasion, I wrote her a limerick: Read more... )
nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
Seeing a wren cling
With tined toes to the railing,
She crumbles her crusts,
Her leavings a picnic feast
And twelve full baskets over.
[Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] just_tanka.]
nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
Title: Fullmetal Haiku
Fandom: FMA
Character(s): Various.
Rating: PG (for one "damn" and a set of suggestive italics)
Warnings: None.
A/N: The other day I was introduced by [livejournal.com profile] canarynoir to this little widget, which grabs random slices of verbiage from your LiveJournal or other 'blog and treats them as haiku. For some reason (probably having everything to do with the fact that I just survived a dreadful oral examination), I became fascinated with the thing, prodding it repeatedly until (with a little editorial help) it and I produced the following series of FMA haiku. Now crossposted for no good reason from [livejournal.com profile] nebroadwe to [livejournal.com profile] fm_alchemist and [livejournal.com profile] fullservicefma.



Ed Visits the Barber

"Ensure that his blond
sidelocks hide his face." "Yeah,
yeah, whatever, you -- "

Read more... )

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nebroadwe: From "The Magdalen Reading" by Rogier van der Weyden.  (Default)
The Magdalen Reading

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