Alliteration Jazz

Swing an axe
bee bop, back beat
hard bop, ground beat
you dig?

Counting off, crushing keys
riff and root rhythm changes
close voice
mouldy fig?

In the pocket
side slip straight eight
stride swing, syncopate
big wig?

Third stream thumb line
time feel turnaround
triton tetrachord
tame jig?

Vamp verse
voice vibes
woodshed walking
full gig?

© Graham Sherwood 09/2017

Camino Haibun

Not the best of weather to begin my Camino,

clipped slate clouds so low I stoop beneath them

their ominous jags hanging stalactite fashion,

there’s a stiff riffle of a breeze squaring-up

determined to push me back indoors.

my best intentions

fractured porcelain mosaics

my fortitude pierced

Threading gently in this dull malaise

wind-song charms my ears with distant pipes, 

seduced I check my retreat, turn to meet the road

and stride south toward a promised sun,

seeking enlightenment, settled thoughts, clarity.

modern life strangles

my spirituality

creativity

The path becomes my blood brother

spilt red on red dust, as one, symbiosis

drawing me further on to find the pallid sun,

oak staff my compass needle, magnetized

by the much-trodden holy way.

thus, I am beguiled

my determination flies

campaniles ring out

© Graham Sherwood 09/2017

So Haiku

So illiterate
don’t start a sentence with so
stupid so-and-so

© Graham Sherwood 09/2017