The comedian
hit the audience with shtick.
They say he killed it!
Copyright David Hoffmann © 2024 – All Rights Reserved
Tag: amwriting
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THE ORIENT
The Orient was the place of his birth. His eyes would burn through me like the early morning light reaching from the land of the rising sun. His scales were countless like the stars twinkling in the night sky. I could hear his stories echoing deep in my heart, ringing like wind chimes hanging high in the sky. I listened for his voice every day. It seemed to me he was the wisest of dragons. His claws would grasp my heart, his piercing eyes looked straight through me. He spoke; “I only tell stories to dragons I once knew.”
Copyright David Hoffmann © 2008 – All Rights Reserved
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Haiku 0110
Wow! Holy mackerel!
Heavenly divine fishing…
fleeing school members.Copyright David Hoffmann © 2024 – All Rights Reserved
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Haiku 0109
Immediately!
Rush only understatement.
Mind quickly racing!Copyright David Hoffmann © 2024 – All Rights Reserved
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Haiku 0108
Romance lingering…
fleeting darting wet glances.
A dance in the rain.Copyright David Hoffmann © 2024 – All Rights Reserved
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Haiku 0107
Marvelous pink hues
occasionally, gently,
highlighting mornings.Copyright David Hoffmann © 2024 – All Rights Reserved
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Haiku 0040
Mystery of life…
I am wearing out my shoes,
eternal seeking.Copyright David Hoffmann © 2014 – All Rights Reserved
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THE DANCE
Tears
have fallen for
the presence of a large band
moving every heart in the room.
Hearts have fallen too.
Long flowing gowns
and beautiful hair
accentuate
the rhythm and rhyme of three four time.
Sharpness is a well-dressed man
firmly leading his partner to the depth of herself.
A sight to behold.
The display may linger…
Forever.
Enlightened by crystal chandeliers,
captivated by eyes
speaking in a whirl of emotion.
The call of leather.
The scent of a woman.
A playground for the soul.Copyright David Hoffmann © 2008 – All Rights Reserved
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MEMOIRS
Frail and delicate
the yellowed parchment
thirsted for another drop.
Wrinkled hands
reached to touch
the memories.
Veins like rivers on a map
pointed the way.
He pondered
as he slowly
dipped the quivering quill.
How could something this hollow
be filled with such life?
A yellowed and cracked
still hand
cradled
an empty quill.Copyright David Hoffmann © 2014 – All Rights Reserved
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Haiku 0106
Wearing sunglasses…
freshly unfurled sprouts recede.
Fortuitous frost.Copyright David Hoffmann © 2024 – All Rights Reserved
DavidtheDreamer 