Sunday, September 19, 2010

URBAN HAIKU AND MORE BOOK PARTIES


URBAN HAIKU AND MORE
Haiku, Senryu, Hay(Na)Ku and Other
Unrhymed Tercet Poetry


From the riotously humorous to the deeply poignant, Patricia covers the emotional terrain with her witty personality unfurled and a display of craft that, like a dancer, seems so effortless. – Brenda J. Gannam, Haiku Society of America


It’s no accident that she starts off with a Kerouac and Bashô haiku … Bashô’s frogs are replaced by bedbugs – Kerouac’s drugs are replaced by Viagra. –Hal Sirowitz, FATHER SAID



URBAN HAIKU
AND MORE
by Patricia Carragon
Illustrated by William L. Hays
saddle-stitched chapbook, 52pp
Fierce Grace Press, Pooler, GA
$7


BOOK PARTIES


Sunday, October 17 at 4 P.M.
The Beat Hour with George Wallace
The Bowery Poetry Club
308 Bowery off Bleecker
Lower East Side, NYC
with poets David Lawton/Mankh
$6 admission
Open Mic
Hosted by George Wallace


Thursday, October 28 at 7:30 P.M. to 10 P.M.
Wyld Chyld Tattoo and Café
1708 Sunrise Highway
Merrick, NY 11566
Free - Open Mic
Hosted by Peter V. Dugan


Tuesday, November 2 at 7 P.M.
Perch Café
365 Fifth Ave
Park Slope, Brooklyn, NY 11215
718-788-2830
Free admission $5 Minimum Food/Drink
Open mic
With featured poet, Cindy Hochman


email: pattiekake@earthlink.net
http://brownstonepoets.blogspot.com
http://patriciacarragon8.wordpress.com
http://myspace.com/pattiekake8
http://en-gb.facebook.com/people/Brownstone-Poets/541314712

2 comments:

  1. Looks fun.

    Here's some more urban haiku, all published:

    mist haze-
    a crow cleans its beak
    on a rooftop aerial

    bright breeze
    a sighted person fingers
    the statue’s eyes


    the boom of bass
    in out of workmen’s hammers
    lesser celedines


    two boys giggle
    as he enters the bike shop ...
    the onion seller


    Old Curiosity Shop –
    laquered dolls
    out in the mid-day sun


    traffic jam
    a driver fingers the breeze
    through the sunroof


    down the sidewalk
    an old vagrant
    daisies in his mouth


    smell of watermelon ...
    the high sun factor face block
    just purchased


    sultry evening
    liquid from the take out bag
    runs near the victim


    mirror tiles -
    a mayfly’s legs
    in four corners



    reedmace & bluebells...
    a torn porn magazine
    off the cemetery path


    an attic window sill
    a wasp curls
    into its own dust


    cricket song
    the jogger crunches
    between loose gravel


    dandelion fluff
    Batavia lettuce
    the color of money


    dusk at the golf club
    part of a marker pole
    a tawny frogmouth


    cemetery entrance-
    clean anti-pigeon spikes
    on the courtyard cross


    inter-city train journey -
    a rattling window top
    shuts itself


    old concrete post
    threaded with lichen
    its new barbed wire


    strange heat -
    a week to my birthday
    the red ferrari passes again


    Waterloo sunset
    the Thames disappears
    from the Tube map


    train judder
    sunlight on every ripple
    of the river


    winter timetable-
    the late train leaves behind
    half a school trip


    dark morning...
    the sushi bar opens up
    for the train station


    field of stargazers
    I'm the one who waves
    at the Chinese satellite


    powdered snow -
    a crow’s eyes above
    the no parking sign


    Oxford Street
    the sweet chestnut vendor’s
    blackened fingers


    curling up at dusk
    the park bench sleeper
    turns over a new page


    ill all day...
    a crime novel
    in both rooms


    down side streets -
    seagulls turning the sky
    in and out


    Hokusai’s wave
    on her T-shirt:
    she strokes my ankle


    art café –
    the security guy hums
    a James Bond theme


    escape velocity
    the moon pulls oceans
    behind Apollo 11


    snow blizzard...
    indoors I'm reminded
    of Charles Chaplin


    coolness of spring rain
    waiting with the bus queue
    on newly cut hair

    flash of yellow
    a butterfly headbutts me
    in my work break


    vodka chilli cocktail
    I become a corner
    in the edge of a room


    double security grills
    a common woodpecker stops
    the data input


    early Spring-the clank
    at the railway station
    of its clocks seconds


    piercing cold-
    a balti restaurant doorway
    lights up a black cat



    the long white apron
    of a barman–
    the day menu unscrews


    tiredness
    in the night train microcosm
    yawns


    park lunch break
    office workers’ jackets droop
    from branches


    train window
    her reflection
    turned away

    hot janurary
    sweat drips
    from a scalpel


    Just a few urban or urban and nature haiku. ;-)

    Alan
    Alan's blog
    With Words

    ReplyDelete
  2. you are amazing, Alan!

    Thanks for posting.

    Pattie :)

    ReplyDelete