Best Unsteadily Poems

POTW 28 January 2018

Prologue:
A beautiful extra-terrestrial female researcher is sent down to a remote island to observe earth and beam her findings back to her...

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i'm just getting started
unraveling the threads
of this tattered lonely soul
sewn so long ago

apparition's crooked hands
grapples the rusty needle
as she unsteadily threads the eye
...flashback to childhood...

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The unpredictable yaw of rolling seas,
as in life pummels us from side to side 
randomly dictating its capricious ways 
lacking logic the tossing grips us...

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Watching you struggle,
 With the demons you hold,
Ignoring the life’s lessons,
 And all you’ve been told.
Shuffled and dank,
You appear out of sorts,
 Unsteadily perched,
 Rocking;...

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Age three, crisscross apple sauce, hands in your lap.
Age five, scooting a few inches, to let whole class in.
Age twenty-three, fresh out of college, a...

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They were gambling in front of the house.
Manservants and pages bustled about
Serving Suitors who just curse and carouse.
Few mix wine with water. I heard one...

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These are translations of some of the oldest Japanese waka, which evolved into tanka, renga and haiku. 

While you decline to cry,
high on the mountainside
a...

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The way you walk unsteadily,
But those wrinkled hands made dishes heavenly
Your words are straightforward, sometimes spicy
But it contains nectar with perfect quality

Tenacity of yours become...

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The Big Ben bangs!

Reminding me its twelfth midnight
Packing my things
Preparing to go home
Car keys on hand
Off to go, outside..

I looked up to search the smile...

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Tuck into the public
private seclusion.

My aversion to inclusion
includes a stub, a tub,
a carelessly careful curation,
a velvet rope, a hint of hope,
a folding chair, softened and...

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It was the worst division of life,
I was afraid and feeling lonely.
No one seemed to be friendly,
Even, I was entirely different from others.

I asked what...

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Dusk-gliding swallow, 
please spare my small friends
flitting among the flowers! 
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

A bee emerging
from deep within the peony's hairy recesses
flies...

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I’m back in my childhood’s home 
in its dank and dismal cellar
walking warily, unsteadily down
          ...

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The first soft snow: 
leaves of the awed jonquil 
bow low
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Come, investigate loneliness! 
a solitary leaf
clings to the Kiri...

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The unpredictable yaw of rolling seas,
as in life, pummels us from one side to the other 
randomly dictating capricious ways 
arbitrarily gripping our lives

Life, like...

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