27 June 2009

senryu 06/27/09

in the night’s quiet
forestalling loneliness there’s
always, only, you

©2009-Art Belliveau

Star Light, Star--Oops!

Star light,
Star bright,
First star I see tonight,
Wait a minute--that’s not right!
You are moving left to right.
You must be a satellite!

©2009-Art Belliveau

25 June 2009


in Looking Glass Land
ran in place
to stay still
I am often amazed
by Carroll’s perspicacity
and at
how like
I am

©2009-Art Belliveau

24 June 2009


I brushed my teeth
And washed my face.
I took my bath
At my slowest pace.

I cleaned the house,
And washed the car.
I finished my homework
And practiced guitar.

I washed the dishes,
And ironed the clothes.
I put all of my shoes
Into neat little rows.

I finished my chores,
Got the dogs fed.
I’ll do almost anything
When it's time for bed.

©2009-Art Belliveau

23 June 2009

senryu 6/23/09

She drones on and on.

Boring monotone.  Why me?

Help! My brain is full!

©2009-Art Belliveau

22 June 2009

senryu 6/22/09

i’m swimming upstream
pushing against the current
endless paperwork

©2009-Art Belliveau

21 June 2009

senryu 6/21/09

she's been gone a week
tonight she finally returns
my heart is singing

©2009-Art Belliveau

20 June 2009

love poem

I want to write
a love poem
but how?

i do not want
a saccharine sweetness
cloying treacle
and sophmoric rhymes

i do not want
to be vulgar
with brazenly lustful images
evoking empty passion

so I will simply say
as plain and honest truth
that I love you
and pray that is enough

©2009-Art Belliveau


the curtain falls
draping me
adding unconscionable weight
bearing me down
cutting off light
cutting off hope
creating tunnel vision
illusions of emptiness
that feel all too true

I continue on
refuse to stop
that’s all I want to do

©2009-Art Belliveau

18 June 2009


we speak
and I try


to respond
to you
only to be

cut off


as your more important thought
comes pouring out

©2009-Art Belliveau

17 June 2009

Hemingway Stole a Urinal

Hemingway Stole a Urinal

Hemingway stole a urinal,

That’s how the story goes.

Hemingway stole a urinal,

While helping move Sloppy Joe’s.

Joe decided to move his bar,

To save a buck a month in rent.

He figured a way to make the move,

Without costing him one red cent.

He closed the bar at two o’clock

(That’s early for Key West)

And offered free booze to everyone

Who honored one request:

Help him move all his stuff,

Half a block to the new location,

And he would make sure that all who helped

Would be rewarded with inebriation.

And so the patrons of the bar,

Picked up every table and chair,

And balanced their drinks as they moved the stuff,

Through the humid Florida air.

In order to get another free drink

They had to back for another load,

And carry it down half a block

To the new site across the road.

Joe opened the bar at nine the next morn

And kept his business in the groove.

But there was at least one accoutrement

That didn’t make the move.

Young Ernest went into the john

To recycle some of Joe’s beer.

And as he stood there he was struck by an urge

To make the urinal disappear.

After all it was only fair,

Reasoned his semi-pickled brain,

After all he’d paid for that urinal

With all the profits he’d sent down the drain.

And he reached out a drunken hand

And tore it from the wall.

Then he left the party

And headed home with his haul.

He put in the from yard

Not caring if he appeared the fool.

And also would get back at his wife,

For secretly putting in a pool.

She tried to to make him take it out,

But she never won that fight.

And so she tried to dress it up,

With a fountain and tiles bright.

And that stolen urinal

Still sits there to this day.

And that’s the tale of the urinal

Stolen by Ernest Hemingway.

©2009-Art Belliveau

16 June 2009

senryu 6/16/09

working on a poem

head full of cotton, eyes droop,

will try tomorrow

©2009-Art Belliveau

senryu from 14 June 2009

we’re finally home

settled back to our routines

now she’s gone again

©2009-Art Belliveau

senryu from 13 June 2009

mile after dull mile

the Florida Turnpike goes

with nothing to see

©2009-Art Belliveau

senryu from 12 June 2009


groping, touching, and kissing

spasmodic chaos

©2009-Art Belliveau

senryu from 11 June 2009

the saddest partings 

come when there is no goodbye

just empty silence

©2009-Art Belliveau

senryu from 10 June 2009

even with eyes closed

I know when the sun has hit

my sun-reddened arms

©2009-Art Belliveau

senryu from 9 June 2009

aggressive vendors

try to force their wares on me

soft sell works better

©2009-Art Belliveau

haiku from 8 June 2009

swimming with dolphins

laughing, jumping together

our playful cousins

©2009-Art Belliveau

haiku from 7 June 2009

blue sky, blue ocean

a million shades between them

whitecaps and white clouds

©2009-Art Belliveau

haiku from 6 June 2009

whitecaps oceanside

calm water in sheltered bay

rock barrier ‘tween

©2009-Art Belliveau

15 June 2009

senryu from 5 June 2009

waterfront restaurant
a lazy Jamaican day
kick back and relax

©2009-Art Belliveau

haiku from 4 June 2009

out of the ocean
fire emerging from water
enemies at peace

©2009-Art Belliveau

senryu from 3 June 2009

Ah, Seven Mile Beach
floating free in the water
troubles left on shore

©2009-Art Belliveau

senryu from 2 June 2009

nothing but water
horizon to horizon
never felt so small

©2009-Art Belliveau

from 1 June 2009

Glass-Bottom Poem

I’ve been on a glass-bottom boat.
I’ve been on a glass-bottom plane.
I’ve been on a glass-bottom car.
I’ve been on a glass-bottom train.

I once rode a glass-bottom bike,
But it got cracked and broke,
When a big, old glass-bottom rock
Shattered a glass-bottom spoke.

But the weirdest thing I’ve seen,
Must be my glass-bottom dog.
Everyone stops and stares;
Everyone’s simply agog.

Now I’ll bring this glass-bottom poem,
To a happy, glass-bottom end.
And I hope from my glass-bottom heart,
You’ll enjoy it, my glass-bottom friend.

©2009-Art Belliveau

from 31 May 2009

The Snerklederkles

Underneath the ocean’s waves,
Way down deep below,
Live the Snerklederkles––
Ocean people whose skin does glow.

It is red when they are happy,
Violet if they’re mad,
Olive green when they get sleepy,
Neon orange when they’re sad.

The colors they blink on and off,
And change ‘most all the time.
It makes their kingdom wondrous to see,
Though silent as a mime.

For the Snerklederkle people,
They never say a word.
Their colors all speak for them,
And not a sound is heard.

Underneath the ocean’s waves,
Way down deep below,
The silent Snerklederkles live––
Ocean people whose skin does glow.

©2009-Art Belliveau

I'm Back

I’m Back

I’m back, I’m back,
I’ve missed you so.
Here I am again,
Though I had to go.

The trip was great.
The trip was fun.
I swam in the ocean,
I laid in the sun.

I got sunburned and seasick,
But I sure didn’t care.
I had the most fun,
That I’ve had anywhere.

I sailed out with pirates.
Went searching for some gold.
I explored the Arctic,
And man it sure was cold!

I journeyed on down,
To the Earth’s molten core.
I circled the moon.
Who could ask for much more?

I went everywhere,
And did everything.
I rode on a tiger.
I conquered a king.

I bet you really missed me,
Did not expect me back so soon.
Hey, Mom, what’s for dinner?
I’ve been traveling since noon.

©2009-Art Belliveau