Help | About | Suggestions | Alms | Chat [0] | Users [0] | Log In | Join
 Search:
Poem: Submit | Random | Best | Worst | Recent | Comments   

Winter (Haiku) by morffrom
Winter comes early A butterfly is frozen A tear in heaven

Up the ladder: Skellington Bakery

You must be logged in to leave comments. Vote:

Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
 GraphVotes
10  .. 24
.. 13
.. 01
.. 10
.. 00
.. 10
.. 00
.. 01
.. 01
.. 10
.. 13

Arithmetic Mean: 6.1
Weighted score: 6.0478315
Overall Rank: 1212
Posted: September 5, 2002 12:39 AM PDT; Last modified: September 19, 2002 4:41 AM PDT
View voting details
Comments:
[9] deleted user @ 213.122.40.192 | 7-Sep-02/1:31 PM | Reply
Sweet
[10] bornagainpoet @ 213.122.124.246 | 10-Sep-02/10:15 AM | Reply
LOvely
[8] Tarquin De La Bog @ 213.1.25.73 | 10-Sep-02/11:57 AM | Reply
This is both sweet and lovely, but also inaccurate. Is a frozen butterfly (note the 'r' in the correct spelling) really a tear in heaven? I very much doubt it, but for your beautiful imagery you score 8 regardless. However, the haiku is rather whimsical and vague. What exactly are you trying to convey? I have no idea, and I suspect that you don't either.
[8] god @ 213.122.106.231 | 11-Sep-02/10:12 AM | Reply
Maybe its not quite a butterfly yet, still coming out of the chrysalis !-anyway the poet seems to be indicating that the premature death of any creature is a cause for sorrow, a buddhist credo of which even tarquin should be aware-I agree with him 8/10
[5] poetandknowit @ 65.101.210.43 | 19-Sep-02/8:59 AM | Reply
Why heaven? That kind of blows the image for me of an otherwise welcome attempt at haiku.
[1] <~> @ 167.206.181.179 | 19-Sep-02/10:12 AM | Reply
crap. heartstring puller. you probably collect 'precious moments' figurines... sorry, but this lacks in every way
[n/a] -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. @ 163.1.146.87 | 27-Jan-04/3:44 PM | Reply
Ahh, Winturd. The white season; nestled moistly 'tween the green and the browne... Speaking of browne, I daresay your butterfly is not the only frozen tear in heaven. Have you not heard "The Winturd Tale of Sir Donald Nudesby"? It runs thus, in the Common Tongue...

Footprints linger on the lawn
Where Nudesby trod ere crack of dawn
Then out beyond the seemly parts
and in amongst the compost carts.

There to clench in wooden shack
Ere sweating brow gave way to cack
And buttocks wiped with little care
Leave brownly marks upon his chair.

But footprints leave, and don't return
And Nudesby's fate may cause concern
Young children ought to shield their ears
Whilst women fight to hold back tears:

Through winturd night, and morning frost
It seems that Nudesby has been lost
'tis little wonder that he froze -
Sir Donald Nudesby wore no clothes!
[n/a] -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. @ 194.222.223.239 | 4-Feb-04/2:23 PM | Reply
I recommend the following changes:

"Winter" -> "Winturd"
"tear" -> "smear"

Thanks.
168 view(s)




Track and Plan your submissions ; Read some Comics ; Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2022 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001