Haiku Showing 6,001-6,050 of 8,460

[M]

She eyed him as though
he were a snail, then went back
to reading her mail.

[[deleted user]]

The warder of truth
her wistful currents contained
a cataract yen

[M]

Her blue eyes with tears
seemed waterfalls. He exclaimed,
“You have cataracts!”

[M]

Suave, ignoring
all deterrents, he explored
her wistful currents.

She sighed, “My currents
are arousing! Where’s a man
expert at dowsing?”

With an arched eyebrow,
a smiling nod, he whipped out
a divining rod.

In fits of laughter,
she nearly fell. “You’re looking
for a shallow well?”

[Guy]

Lol M and Cat!

[Guy]

I am not that maid
From whom dousing shall be laid
Nor a spring be made.

[M]

After an outdoor,
drenched wedding, we soundly slept
on Springmaid bedding.

[Ryan]

Joyous the maidens,
in Spring's chaste bower dancing;
obliviously.

[Guy]

The hard chased maiden
With naive simplicity
Kept their springs secret.

[[deleted user]]

Small yellow puppy
Runs naively through flowers
Come sunny springtime

[M]

This started out as an attempt to follow Dummkopf’s, but then it just sort of zoomed off into the woods.

Where wisteria
hides rusting screen and fragments
of acid-etched panes,

she draws irises,
their dense gray-green still dripping
one spring’s wind-slewed rains.

Light, through vines, splotching
a wall; rasped by blown oak leaves,
a floor’s broken tile;

in insect-trilled noon
these recall the pause before
her hesitant smile,

who, singing, wanders
to the shore when a dead calm
mirrors thunderheads,

who lurks by a rain-
warped door, picks roses gone wild
in overgrown beds.

[Nicky]

I really like that M, it's quietly beautiful. I particularly like the last stanza.

[M]

Thank you, Nicky!

[M]

I was, long ago,
a druid. She fixed me with
correction fluid.

I fled. How could I
escape her, rolled in with sheets
of carbon paper?

Typewritten, I sulked.
The office dark, she lured me
with a question mark.

[[deleted user]]

Oh Al and M! Lol! Well done office haiku :)

[M]

(Good morning, Leslie!)

[[deleted user]]

Good evening, M! :)

[Rachel]

Home from Bonnaroo
I find myself most blue for
Now I must wear pants.

[Paula Tohline]

Still waters run deep
Yet deeper still sinks the iron
My strength grows rusty

[M]

Thus are haiku forged:
of chance, of sunken iron,
and of Rachel’s pants.

[Paula Tohline]

Rachel's pants' haiku
Was forged from red iron, not blue.
Her pants have no chance.

[Rachel]

My pants have no chance
Beneath the southern sun's rays
Or such witty pens.

[Ryan]

Her poetic pooch
is named Haiku. Penned and parched,
Rachel's hot dog pants.

[Rachel]

My hot pants by the
Hot dog stand leads to many
Double entendres.

[Ryan]

Watching her hot dog
stand, Rachel realised she'd taught
old Haiku new tricks.

[M]

“Mostly bun,” she sighed,
flustered, then quipped with relish,
“but lots of mustard!”

[M]

“If only,” she laughed,
beautifully droll, “it had been
Zatarain’s Creole.”

[Ryan]

The cold seeds of doubt
left her behind, feeling like
she couldn't ketchup.

[Ryan]

Sorry, that's terrible.

[M]

(Not at all, and fun to follow!)


From those seeds sprouted
mustard plants that exalted
Rachel’s verse and pants.

[M]

(How many W.S.S. members have rated a genre of haiku? There’s Star Trek haiku, office haiku, Emily Blunt haiku, graveyard haiku, now Rachel’s-pants haiku.)

[Ryan]

It's a great honour...I think!

[Ryan]

Rachel's pants brought down
the house, to the annoyance
of old Levi Strauss.

[M]

A joint committee
of ways and means delved the curves
of Rachel’s blue jeans.

[Ryan]

In a darkened lab
he splices denim and tongues;
makes designer genes.

[Paula Tohline]

Genetic makeup
Is nothing to take up here,
Keep it in her pants.

And while we're at it
It might be, at all costs, best
You guys keep yours zipped.

Poor Rachel has naught
But Bonaroo blue to call
Hers. Let her wear them.

Unzipping, stripping
Has no place in this genre.
I say, keep 'em on!

It all depends on
What she has depended on
To keep them up on.

I have exhausted
All that is left to say on
Rachel's hot dog pants.

[M]

Joining a priesthood
of gotch-eyed beasthood, I made
the sign of the cross,

embarked on a quest
to the acid-washed West, found
the fabled hot sauce.

What wages of sin
in barreled cayenne now age
as tribute for her?

Vials of Tabasco
buried at Lascaux await
the mad explorer.

[M]

I hacked through jungles,
waded through bogs. A full moon
shone through hanging vines.

I studied the map
to a chorus of frogs, drank
the natives’ strange wines.

[Nicky]

Strange wine indeed that
brings me here so far from home
no fear of danger.

Clouding my judgement.
I savour this exotic
world you inhabit.

(think that's correct?!)

[Ryan]

Al! Thanks, glad you approve ;)

Excellent, Nicky. And yes, perfect syllable count

[Ryan]

A new world awoke
inside a whisper's pause; fled
on a lie's silk wings.

[Paula Tohline]

Where do silk wings go
to save them from the downpour
of rain-soaked whispers?

[Paula Tohline]

Have any of you heard of Ginsberg's "American Sentence?" It was his response to the 5-7-5 structure and stricture of Japanese haiku. It consisted of one sentence containing 17 syllables. Would it be "kosher" to include them in this "discussion"? I for one would love to give it a try. It might yield interesting results.

[Paula Tohline]

For instance:

I have often pondered on where butterflies escape when the rain falls.

What say you all?

[Nicky]

I say, how interesting - I'd never heard of that before - who knew you could make a poem in one line! Maybe we could have a separate topic(y thing)for them.

[Guy]

These are so much fun! Alternatively and concomitantly creative, humorous and simply beautiful.

Paula, nice suggestion. And give the lowly state of some of the haiku subject matters, likely not out of place.

[Guy]

The fall from fall's grace left their metamorphosis in potentia.

Of course this also works in standard format.

Their fall from fall's grace
left their metamorphosis
in potentia.

[Rachel]

I wandered the woods
Ripped the knees, tore all the seams.
Easy access now

For the roots to rend
The flesh it tripped to spread-eagle
And cross tender lines.

A pitying beast
Pulled me free, forceful flora
Giving way to fangs.

I walked with Black Bear
To a nearby stream to tend
My wounds and give thanks.

I stripped off my jeans
Gave them to the waters, no
Leering Pucks to trick

[Paula Tohline]

Guy wrote: "The fall from fall's grace left their metamorphosis in potentia.

Of course this also works in standard format.

Their fall from fall's grace
left their metamorphosis
in potentia."

Of course it can work both ways, but there need not be the "mystique" of or "mystical" line breaks, which in my mind makes or breaks a haiku!

[Paula Tohline]

Another American Sentence:

There comes a time when all of us should offer up our souls to wonder.