# Writing > Personal Poetry >  Haiku? No Haikona!

## Jett Black

I was looking for a word for a very short poem but it appears there isnt one. Of course theres Haiku but these very short works of mine do not qualify.

Xhosa is one of the official languages of South Africa and is spoken by African people in the region in which I live.

The word "aikona" or "haikona" means "no", "not at all" or even "by no means".

It is derived from the Xhosa words "hayi" (no) and "khona" (here) - literally it means "not here/now". 

So Im calling my short stuff Haikonas  not because they arent here now, but because Im not here now. As a matter of fact Im not all there either.




ABOVE THE RAIN.

I want to fly above the rain
Soar up into the night;
I yearn to follow your angelic light
And so never return again

I want to dance to your refrain
Spend my whole life with you;
I yearn to change my auras hue
And so never return again.


AFTER SEX YOU SMOKE

I can't believe you're falling asleep,
You know - that's really so uncool,
Sit up and light up you creep
After sex you smoke
Its a rule.


FREE AT LAST

Free at last the empires pink erased,
Africa! giant no longer slumbering.
but smouldering and now
shackled by another power
A virus deadlier than any former colonist.




HOLD MY HAND

Walking along the beach
Scratching a stick in the sand,
Everyone's out of reach
Won't somebody hold my hand?

Please...


ID LOVE TO BE A WOMAN

Gee, I'd love to be a woman
They've such an easy life,
I'd love to be a woman
Be some rich sucker's wife.

Gee, its hard to be a man
We've such a trying life,
Its hard to be a man
Serving some rich sucker's wife.


NO NAME.

Im a prisoner of my time
Blindly staggering about
While vainly seeking something
Anything familiar to embrace
So I may find a future in my past.




IMAGE OF MY LOVE

An image one of ten flashed on the screen
Silence  no words spoken in between
Your allure dazzling bursting on my sight
Stark beauty fills my senses with delight.



GIGGLE

Oh giggle! 
When you walk Im sure you wiggle 
And jiggle 
In all the right places. 
Dont you love it when I tickle?
Oh giggle!



LITTLE BOY. (1)

On this day a
Little boy fell  
And millions cried, 
Not for him but for 
Humanity which also 
Died.



LITTLE BOY (2)

I wish I were a little boy
In short pants and bare feet
Giving to my mother joy
And kissing girls I meet!

I would be so very cute
And mom would hug me tight
Jett you are a little beaut!
Shed tell me every night.

But sadly Im a grown man
My moms no longer here
Others hardly give a damn
So Ill got get a beer!




LOLA

My mom's name Is Lola 
Like the song by the Kinks, 
She loves rum and cola 
But dad says It stinks.




LULU

I love the name Lulu 
And think that its nice, 
Love the name, do you? 
There ... I've said it twice.





NOT A-MUSE-D

Uninspired,
I slump in my chair;
the blank screen
a mirror of my mind.
My muse sulks
somewhere in a corner
of another city... no,
another galaxy;
try as I might,
I cannot summon her.


OH ME OH MY.

Suddenly, I've forgotten how to rhyme 
And spend most of my time 
Writing nothing but blank verse 
Which really Is a curse. 

Its going to put me In a hearse 
Or at the very least In a nurs ... 
...ing home until I die 
Oh me oh my goodbye.



SEA-SORE. 

Well, if a seahorse really is a fish
Then I fervently hope and wish
That I never have a sea lion
On any hook I'd like to call mine.



STILL THINKING OF HER

Exquisite and evocative images sneak into my mind
Washing over my thoughts like waves breaking upon the shore,
Sliding through my mind like oil across glass
Before fading into nothing but a memory
Of what might have been.



THE PLAINS OF AFRICA

The plains of Africa are soaked with blood
As machetes rise and fall  cutting off life.
Tribesman kills tribesman brother kills brother
And the slaughter continues beneath the sun.
Yes the plains of Africa are soaked with tears
Again.




THE RISING. 

Even as the last of the twelve chimed
To herald the end of nine and the start of ten,
I gazed up at a fire-lit night sky
And I thought I heard the Cosmos cry a warning:
The Evil is rising!




DREAM DIALOGUE

The war none wanted to declare
A battle none wanted to fight;
Father against son, against brother.

Fortunate were those who died
For they were spared the accusing eyes
In grieving faces of mothers and wives.

And soon the drum and fife sounded
To herald not the return of the unfortunate
But over graves filled with tear-soaked earth.

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## cafolini

Very meaningful. Truthful to some extent of Africa. Tearful to the eyes of many african women. Fortunate to the journey of all that keep passing. Thanks for sharing.

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## virtuoso

Nice, compact poems! Hurrah for the Haikone. You need no prosthetics. You have short, spiffy tendrils that function well together.

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## Buh4Bee

NOT A-MUSE-D

Uninspired,
I slump in my chair;
the blank screen
a mirror of my mind.
My muse sulks
somewhere in a corner
of another city... no,
another galaxy;
try as I might,
I cannot summon her.

This one was sort of funny and made me laugh out loud.

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## Jett Black

> Very meaningful. Truthful to some extent of Africa. Tearful to the eyes of many african women. Fortunate to the journey of all that keep passing. Thanks for sharing.


Thank you so much cafo ... I am so so pleased you enjoyed my Haikonas!

I should have like explained a bit about the pronunciation of the Xhosa language. I shall do so now.

Xhosa is one of those words with a click at the beginning. You push your tongue against the roof of your mouth and then release it and it makes the correct sound. "corsa."

Haikona would be pronounced "Hi-Corner."

Thanx again for commenting.

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## Jett Black

> Very meaningful. Truthful to some extent of Africa. Tearful to the eyes of many african women. Fortunate to the journey of all that keep passing. Thanks for sharing.


Thanks so much for you awesome reply.

Perhaps we can now introduce a new form of poetry called "Haikonas!"

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## Jett Black

> NOT A-MUSE-D
> 
> Uninspired,
> I slump in my chair;
> the blank screen
> a mirror of my mind.
> My muse sulks
> somewhere in a corner
> of another city... no,
> ...



Great B4B! I am so for making earthlings larf cos when we larf we are happy and when we are happy we not sad and who wants to be sad? Not me ... not you!

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## cacian

_''I’D LOVE TO BE A WOMAN

Gee, I'd love to be a woman
They've such an easy life,
I'd love to be a woman
Be some rich sucker's wife.

Gee, its hard to be a man
We've such a trying life,
Its hard to be a man
Serving some rich sucker's wife_''

haha this made me chuckle in a nice way.
I am a woman and I can tell you I would not want to be a man  :Smilewinkgrin:  
so fair plate to you Jett  :Nod:

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## Jassy Melson

Your short poems are like picture poems. I suppose if a label must be applied to you, it would be imagist. But that implies Ezra Pound, and your brief pithy poems--related somewhat accidently to haiku-- goes beyond imagism or haiku. There is humor contained in a good deal of the poems which is lacking in haiku or imagism.

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