Caveat: Nonnet #23

Some kids have a lot to say in class.
Other students stare wordlessly.
I want them to feel their worth,
understand our topics,
and become engaged.
Mostly I fail.
It is hard.
They just

Caveat: Nonnet #22

can't come
all at once.
Fall must sneak in,
catch us unawares
with a yellow leaf here
and a northerly breeze there.
I smelled autumn's covert rustlings
today: percepts tasting of woodsmoke.

Caveat: Nonnet #18

Maybe I am becoming a plant.
Every Sunday I cut my hair.
In the weird fluorescent light,
today, in the bathroom,
I looked at the floor.
the clippings
looked like

Caveat: Nonnet #17

across the brown,
cream-colored surface
of my morning's coffee,
put there by the blowing wind
exhaled by my electric fan
which perches in my window, bird-like.


Caveat: Nonnet #16

Perhaps the ground has dried out too much.
The last rain was a while ago.
So the worm started a trip
across the vast sidewalk,
its goal uncertain.
The sun's so hot.
It wriggles;

[daily log: walking, 1km]

Caveat: Nonnet #15

Some say the world is a living thing;
Or that it's a clockwork machine.
But I don't see it that way.
Instead, recursively,
the world gives a proof
of the theorem
that says that
we are

Caveat: Nonnet #14

Ví que amaneció nublado
pero ya al mediodía
se había convertido
en día de calor.
Una cigarra
allá arriba
me cantó,

[Update: My friend Bob suggested I translate this into English, but retaining the nonnet form. I took the challenge:]

I saw that the morning dawned cloudy
but by the middle of the day
the weather had changed so it
had become a hot day.
Then a cicada
somewhere up there
sang to me

Caveat: Nonnet #11

I have been staying on this planet.
The planet is sometimes called Earth.
I just have a work visa.
So, if I stop working
I will have to leave.
But departures
are sometimes

Caveat: Nonnet #8

The conversation began as most.
I wanted to point some things out,
observations and comments,
some inconsistencies,
in how we do things.
I got angry.
I ranted….
Ah, why

Caveat: Nonnet #7

I've decided to take on the challenge I suggested to myself a few posts back: I will make a nonnet every day. The last few days I've tested, to see if it's doable, and I have done it. So I have a little stockpile, now, of half-a-dozen nonnets. And I will move forward, and try to make a nonnet every day, and post it. I guess a side-effect of this is that I'm am, tentatively, returning to my old two-posts-a-day pattern, which I abandoned around the time of my cancer diagnosis, 3 years ago. 

Counting backwards among the ones posted previously, starting with one last year, I think this would be number 7. 

Living is what we do till we die.
We take on difficult questions,
or we simply live each day.
We love that children play.
We can watch the rain.
We can see trees.
Then it ends.
It's just

Caveat: up in the trees

Blue_cicadaNow I have made an "inverted" nonnet. I have no idea if this is a thing that's been done before. It's the same as a nonnet, just the other way around. I drew this "blue cicada in a bottle" and originally posted it some years ago.

up in the trees
have explained to me
without using language
that summer is not so bad,
that it passes in a moment,
that the green, breeze-blown leaves caress them.

[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: This House Opposes Summer

One reason I like nonnets is that it's possible to compose them entirely in my head. They are sufficiently compact and structured that I can hold the whole thing in my "working memory" as I work out each line. Thus, I can do it while walking, which is another pastime of mine that doesn't always mix well with writing, since this latter usually requires having a keyboard or notepad in front of me. 

I made this nonnet walking to work.

I hate summer, because it's too hot.
The sun squashes me, like an ant.
The air seems thick, like asphalt.
I start missing winter.
I could stride quickly.
I could shiver.
"Ah! So cold,
like a

It's occurred to me I could write a nonnet every day, while walking to work. Am I so ambitious?

[daily log: walking, 6.5km]