One of the most intricate Japanese Poetry forms is the Choka.   Also referred to as a “Long Poem,” the Choka often tells a story.  It does not rhyme, and offers a choice of syllabic form structure, as follows:

5 – 7 – 7 – 5 – 7 – 7, etc.


5 – 7 – 5 – 5 – 7 – 5,  etc.



Sweet crimson berries,
Royal blue flower petals,
Positioned just so
Then repositioned,
And repositioned again
For utmost appeal.
Trimmed and embellished
Avian architecture
To entice females.
The eye of the beholder
Lingers, or takes leave.

© Marie Elena Good – 2012



Music doth have charms
and the savage breast is soothed.
There is beauty in its song.
I hear melodies
and my heart is stirred to dance;
a chance to ease into love.
And if music dies,
my soul will carry the tune,
and the words of love you sing
will make me the man
you always want me to be.
The music of life plays on.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2012


At POETIC ASIDES with Robert Lee Brewer, Robert asks us to write a plea poem. Of course, a plea can mean a few different things. First, a plea can be an allegation leveled at someone. Second, a plea can be the defendant’s answer to the accusations (for instance, guilty or not guilty). Third, a plea can be an appeal.


And don’t forget that today is “POST YOUR POEM” day at WE WRITE POEMS Prompt #115 – Counting fingers plus two. You were instructed to write a poem using only twelve words: no more, no less.


    • In total agreement!!

      Marie I love how your is very in keeping with the haiku idea of season words and Walt, I really enjoyed the emotive-ness of yours…the two of you inspired me…thank you!!

      Warm smiles to everyone!!

  1. Passing Clouds

    You feel far away…
    Are you gone, never to be?
    It is hard to bear…
    Please return today,
    tomorrow, the next day, or
    the next. When does not matter.

  2. I did it! And enjoyed it immensely. And it fit Mama Zen’s challenge at Imaginary Gardens too! (Lots of Smiles)


    When I am too blue
    for words, I visit yours where
    I find Blueberries and Grapes
    that change my colors
    to bright Peaches, Oranges
    and flowers too—Roses rule!

  3. Pingback: Figurine « Metaphors and Smiles

    • Figurine

      Placid blue-hued glass,
      easy-going elephant;
      her trunk is lifted in trust,
      ears perked and praiseful.
      Clear and calm is her center,
      peaceful and pure is her soul.
      Could my heart echo
      simple crystal sentiment?
      May I adjust and muster
      a spirit of hope,
      soul that isn’t lack-luster;
      buoyant, joy bursting its seams.

      ©Hannah Gosselin 7/25/12

      This poem is written with this sentiment in mind at first, “I’d like to write of something in nature that exemplifies the emotive human experience.” Then I looked over and saw one of my favorites, (a glass elephant figurine…I love elephants…), that I recently made a platform for with a beautiful blue antique glass piece that my grandmother gifted to me…makes the entirety even more special.

      P.S. There’s a picture of her on my blog!

      • Oh, Hannah… just Lovely… your words, the photo, the sweet, loving gift from your Grandmother… I, too, Love elephants… such a peaceful, grounding energy they exude. Warmth to you… 🙂

      • So you do (blue) too! Can we parallel what we see? I think so, though it requires an openness. I like how you describe the elephant in all its most desirable ways.

      • “..Clear and calm is her center,
        peaceful and pure is her soul.”

        What a wonderful place to be, assurance to have.

  4. Pingback: Life-Sized Shimmering-Magic-Sphere « Metaphors and Smiles

  5. “Thirsting for green”

    Coffee brown morning
    again here in cattail morgue,
    river boiled to bones.

    Horses feed on chaff,
    breathing carcass-rich straw spores,
    homeless beaver dam
    pirated by gnats.

    The snap of my knife slicing
    open bricks of corn
    angers the swarming
    workers in my hungry hive,
    thirsting for infant
    green—the April lime

    air of showers, wrinkled shoots
    of wet grasses.
    We scatter dry seed
    for next year’s season of hope.

  6. BATON

    Small girl longs for friends
    Other girls play together
    No invite given
    She twirls baton
    Others see the baton fly
    “Come play.” They now say.

  7. Plea

    Please don’t bother me.
    Leave me alone, I say, go—
    far away and don’t come back!
    Disappear, you fiend.
    Take a trip to the world’s end.
    Worry not! I don’t mean you!

  8. Timid Souls

    Meeting in meadow,
    bird watchers wrapped in beauty
    of nature’s backdrop–tinted
    to enhance feathers
    of sky fliers–click cameras,
    turn, startling starlings mid-song.

  9. A Picnic in August

    The quiet enclosed
    Our sweet laughter so gently
    It only faintly tickled
    Our consciousness, and
    The day could not have been passed
    In a way that satisfied
    Any more. I think
    That day will stay warmly curled
    Inside my heart forever.

  10. Pingback: “A Picnic in August” « A Particle of Difference

  11. “Malcolm”

    Visits far too brief
    Malcolm sits, observing me.
    Our eyes meet expectantly:
    “Wanna take a walk?”
    His answer a gripping “Yes!”
    As he leaps into my arms.

    Malcolm, now the teen,
    his vocabulary grown
    finds pleasure in the talking.
    Malcolm is my pal
    as this creature knows so well,
    there’s love in recognition.

    (The puppy, Malcolm, and I lived together the first year of his life.
    Tho we see each other sporadically, there seems to be a strong bond between us. Could this be so, or is it just my imagination?)

    • I think that there are certain entities that we form an immediate bond with. The connection, in my opinion, cannot be denied. 🙂 !

  12. Perspectives

    You don’t understand
    although I try to explain.
    We don’t see the same picture
    and that causes hurt.
    As we speak words unfiltered
    and wish that they could come back
    to only our thoughts
    not floating in the open.
    Sometimes we must just move on
    knowing that we tried.
    Agreeing to disagree
    and just living our own lives.

    © KED 2012

  13. Here’s mine:


    There is something clean
    about ice; frosty shaved bits
    clinging to windows; the way
    clean clear sheets of ice
    break into shards when I hit
    the water trough with my boot
    heel or a hammer.
    Puddles ripple paper thin
    opaque crackling underfoot.
    Steam rises smokey
    vapor where the sun reaches
    over trees to kiss black roof tiles.
    It ventures inside
    to our bedroom where icy
    crisp sheets send chills up my bare
    body. You melt me.

  14. Pingback: The Distant Lover | Scarring Words

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