Abecedarian Haiku/Senryū Madness
A Poetic Challenge!
A challenge was set
An abecedarian
A senryu every verse
*
But will I conclude
By using every letter
Bright idealism
*
Chaos in my mind
Can I remember any words
Clear mind, empty head
*
Did I really want this?
Dangerous attempts to dive
Down the alphabet
*
Ever wondered why people
Enthusiastically
Evade the stress of this
*
Fishing for funnies
Flexing the English language
Finding the best route
*
Gliding a to b
Getting flustered, going mad
Great, G is covered
*
Here comes H to help
Hope is driving me forward
Hesitant? Not yet
*
In a minute though?
It remains to be seen now
I will let you know
*
Just when I felt calm
J comes along to jolt me
Just can’t catch a break
*
Kick to my head means
Kaleidoscopic colours
Knock me out for six
*
Lying on my back
Looking at clusters of clouds
Looming, full of water
*
Maybe I will remain
Maybe I should find shelter
My head feels the drips
*
No time to move now
Not to worry, drenching helps clean
Nasty stains and dirt away
*
Oh, if it was that easy
Only if I could clean me
Outside and inside
*
Perhaps I can, if
Pitter patters turn to storms
Power washing me
*
Quite the image, Paul
Quality surrealism
Quickly move on, Paul
*
Really no way out
R is so close to the end
Ramp it up, Paul
*
Success is in sight
Should, you call it a success?
Seriously? No
*
This has been a test
To have a try, and not fret
That it might not work
*
Until I reach Z
Unfortunately, I’ll go
Until letter Z
*
Vile and violent
Viciously bastardising the
Very language I love
*
We’re on fourth to last
While I’m wondering if this
Was even a good plan
*
Xenacious, I am
Xyresic though this has been
Xanthic sunrise nears
*
You’ll be glad to know
Y means this here madness
Yes, it’s nearly done
*
Zealously zapping
Zigzagging to the finish
Zephyr takes me off
**********************
Okay, I have a lot of ideas in my head a lot of the time. Some of them amazing, some of them okay, and some of them terrible. The problem is, that sometimes when I take an idea and run with it - I need to see it through to its conclusion.
So, above you will see the fruits of my madness - approximately a Abecedarian poem with a separate haiku/senryū for each letter.
Make of it what you will. It was an experiment.
Thank you, though, for taking the time to read my craziness. I would appreciate if you left a comment, or hearted this piece, particularly if you liked it. All interactions are appreciated and encouraged.
You can also subscribe to keep up to date with my latest work.
If you would like to see something a bit more straightforward, then you may like see most recent pieces:
You can also find the rest of my work here.
About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Scottish-Italian poet/writer from Glasgow.
Overflowing in English language torture and word abuse.
"Every man has a sane spot somewhere" R.L Stevenson
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection is now available!
https://paulspoeticprints.etsy.com
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Peanuts and Crackerjack
Bottom of the ninth inning. The game is tied with two outs, two strikes and a man on second. I tap the bat on home plate. The rigid vibrations it creates reminds my aching digits that this isn't over. The practice swing only adds to the heft of mental burnout... Man on second, willing to chance it. Pitcher eyes him but doesn't give in to the dangerous bluff. I kick up dust, readying the peculiar stance I've had since the days of little league. The bat lays stiff upon my cramping shoulder. Pain has no reason to be acknowledged; it's a fleeting afterthought. The sun sits passed high noon, but the stadium lights are on anyway. They trick my brain into believing they are the cause of this sweltering heat. Sporadic clouds are motionless, they too, don't want to miss this exhilarating predicament. Anticipating the next pitch, intensifying roars from the crowd rumble the stadium... Behind me, the crafty catcher adjusts his stance and spits to the dry dirt. Behind him, the staunch umpire doesn't flinch or even blink; he knows how important his call will be. The pitcher winds up, his grip tells me its gonna curve. The release is fierce! Beads of sweat from his hair and face disperse in every direction as the force of his might is unfailing. My left leg lifts—an instinctual move that will increase the power of my swing. It's all down to my two, bloodshot eyes. They lock onto the speeding, white dot as it instantly becomes the target I intend to destroy. The swing is late, but I manage a solid tip. The ball is taking a fast bounce toward the pitcher who is recovering from the almighty throw! Man on second leaves in a desperate rush! I fling the bat to the side with a sense of urgency and make a mad sprint to the only destination I have—first base. Three defenders race inward to be the first to retrieve the skidding ball. Man is almost on third! I watch the open glove of my adversary, wondering if I’ve done enough to win this race. I switch my attention to his eyes, looking for a clue, some kind of reaction that tells me the ball is in the air and heading his way. All I see is frustration. The deafening roar of the crowd spikes! Something happens that I can’t see! My opponent abandons his post right as my left stride touches the bag. I waste no time turning my head to see the pitcher laying on his stomach, pounding the mound with an open glove. He misses the opportunity to out me and the ball has quickly bounced past him. Excitement grows! This isn’t over yet... It's become an imperative fight to tag out the runner heading homeward. The catcher falls to his knees in obvious despair as he watches my teammate make the run of his life. He knows it’s going to be close when he sees the shortstop fumble the ball a second too long. I jump up and down with no plans on leaving first base. All my chips are on the speed and agility of the active runner. His cleats dig into the dirt, trailing a dust-filled cyclone from the rapid and strenuous strides. With a thrusting dive and an outstretched arm, he lands on his chest to begin the crucial slide to home plate. The shortstop fires the ball to the catcher! It immediately begins closing the gap! Nail-biting doesn't begin to describe the anxious vibe permeating the stadium. The bench begins to celebrate even before he reaches the plate. Forty thousand cheering fans reach maximum crescendo, filling the air with a glorious sound. Everyone knows how this story will end… My teammate is met by the entire bench as his fingers inch across home plate, instantly followed by the unmistakable motion of the catcher's glove attempting to tag him out—its milliseconds too late. The ump swings his arms outward, officially calling him safe.
By Lamar Wiggins7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (13)
This is epically impressive. Great job! 😁
This is awesome! Love your ideas
Brilliant!!! I laughed and loved it muchly!❣️
Whoa, when did we get an Alphabetical Haiku. I vote this idea for the next one. This was great.
Wow! Wonderful job here! My jaw was dropping at those fabulous "X" words. Amazing job!!
Wow this is seriously creative. Well done Paul — Haiku King lol
What a hoot! Great job 👏
Insanely successful, and challenging! Looks like fun, though!
Good job. You put a lot of effort into this and it paid off.
Whoaaaaa! You blew my mind with this combo! Wow I'm super impressed with the way you come up with these ideas and execute them so well! Bravo!
That was a lot of creative, clever fun!! You're going to start speaking in haiku/senryo soon, lol. Really great work :)
You covered it buddy from A to Z, great job
Haha. Good one.