Tuesday Poem: Cactus

November 6, 2017

Cactus

Spiky camel hump, buried in sand.
Alien artichoke, Martian’s lunch.
I’m told to admire your
‘architectural qualities’. As if
we build houses of needles,
like one of those three little pigs
gone crazy, his brain curling,
dizzy, to match pale gimlet tail.
What huffing
fire-mouthed dragon
could blow you down?
Crooked eyes only, crave cacti.

Yet, every few years, you explode
into a neon gown of Brazilian hues
pulsating, pink or gold, as at Mardi Gras.
When poor become princes,
and thin desert blooms.

PS Cottier

cactus

An ancient poem this one, if ten years qualifies as ancient.  My cactus just bloomed, hence my digging it (the poem) up.

***
I just had two poems published in issue 23 of Failed Haiku, which is a great name for a journal.  It refers to senryu, which are like haiku but quirkier. The home page is definitely worth a visit, for links to information about senryu, and so you can download the issues.  I won’t link to the PDF of issue 23 (November 2017) here, but it is easily accessed at the site. The editor, Mike Rehling, also makes some interesting comments about senryu that particularly caught his eye.

Cactus

Spiky camel hump, buried in sand.

Alien artichoke, Martian’s lunch.

I’m told to admire your

‘architectural qualities’.  As if

we build houses of needles,

like one of those three little pigs

gone crazy, his brain curling,

dizzy, to match pale gimlet tail.

What huffing

fire-mouthed wolf-dragon

could blow you down?

Crooked eyes only, crave cacti.

 

Yet, every few years, you explode

into a neon gown of Brazilian hues

pulsating, pink or gold, as at Mardi Gras.

When poor become princes,

and thin desert blooms.

 

P.S. Cottier

Just published in The Mozzie, Queensland