Haiku About Restless Butterfly

Haiku About Restless Butterfly



Here is a haiku I wrote about my friend Kriztina who lives in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.  She writes a blog at Xanga under the name RestlessButterfly.





Restless Butterfly
Malaysia's priceless jewel
a monarch with wings

Haiku About L. M. Ross

Haiku About L. M. Ross




The following is a Haiku about my friend Lin.  Lin is a New York City bartender who is also an accomplished poet and novelist.  He writes under the name L. M. Ross.  His most recent novel Like Litter In The Wind is available for sale at Amazon.com


Here then is my haiku about the New York bartender poet laureate L. M. Ross:




New York bartender
mixing words with rhythm makes
tonic for the soul

Haiku Inspired By Shakespeare's Scottish Play

Haiku Inspired By Shakespeare's Scottish Play



The Lady MacBeth
tries to Shout it out like ad
but damn spot remains

Haiku About Sherlock Holmes

Haiku About Sherlock Holmes



Mister Sherlock Holmes
out of London's mists and fog
great mind for all time

Haiku About Don Quixote

Haiku About Don Quixote



Old Don Quixote
battling windmills in an age
twilight night of knights

Haiku Inspired By Victor Hugo Novel

Haiku Inspired By Victor Hugo Novel



Young Quasimodo
most recognize him by hunched back
but face rings a bell

Haiku About Headless Horseman

Haiku About The Headless Horseman



Horseman was riding
lost his head in pumpkin patch
mind now sleep hollow

Haiku Inspired By Greek Mythology

Haiku Inspired By Greek Mythology



Medusa Gorgon
having really bad hair day
used snake oil shampoo

Haiku I Wrote About Jesus

Haiku I Wrote About Jesus

Lord Jesus on Cross

his arms nailed but outstretched

Love embraces in pain

Haiku About Vancouver Weather Today

Hot humid weather
The city is sweltering
storm is coming soon

Haiku Written About Hungry Ghost To Celebrate Hungry Ghost Festival In Asia

Had some Chinese food
only one hour earlier
so one hungry ghost

The Headless Horseman of Ghost Pine Lake

The Headless Horseman of Ghost Pine Lake





It was a time of war and not of peace
the beating of drums for joy did cease
The beating of war drums was heard throughout the land
and streams of human blood flowed into the sand.



It was the land that became the province of Alberta
before settlers arrived with names like Hans and Gerta.
It was the land evangelized by Father Albert Lacombe
a land where masses of buffalo did roam.
A land which was the battleground between Blackfoot and Cree
in this Prairie far below the Arctic Sea.
The children of Gitche Manitou had turned against one another
seeing a fellow human being as foe rather than brother.




These were the days before the great peacemaker Crowfoot arose
humanity needs his like again Heaven knows
Crowfoot that noble and great Blackfoot chief
who knew that from horrors of war his people needed relief.
Crowfoot who adopted the great Cree chief Poundmaker as his son
so that rose of Peace might blossom in the noonday sun.




But those days of Crowfoot and Poundmaker were not yet
for these were days of malice on which sun would not set.



In this age Cree and Blackfoot were at enmity
and this Lake of Ghost Pine was no Sea of Tranquility
Instead under a moon that glowed blood red
many braves from both tribes lay on the ground dead.
Two warriors eyed one another from opposite sides of the lake
And it appeared there was one more human life to take
From the North the Cree warrior shouted on his horse
and from the south Blackfoot answered in due course.




Like knights of old
in Arthurian tales told
the two warriors on horseback at one another did charge
and both using their equine animal as a barge
in the middle of the lake they did meet
for this year it wasn't very deep.


And in the exchange of tomahawk blows
and exchange of words between foes
the Cree warrior lost his footing and from his horse he started to slip
and the beat of his heart-it started to skip
and would continue for a slight while beating
despite Blackfoot tomahawk slicing through where his head and body were meeting.


And the Cree warrior's head fell into the water
swept away by ripples of Mother Time's daughter.


And it is said the Cree warrior can still be seen
on moonlit nights when mists are keen
riding his horse through the fog
searching for his head in the watery bog.







-A poem written by Christopher
Sunday August 11th 2013
Inspired by a tale
told to him by his father
over a campfire
at Ghost Pine Lake, Alberta
many years ago.





-This poem is lovingly dedicated
to my dad
a great historian, a great teacher
and a wonderful human being
who succumbed to the demon of cancer
and passed away June 16th 2010.