There once was a man named Nippress
Who went around town in a dress
But when he felt blue
He would write haiku
And it looked like a terrible mess

if i could be Buk
i would be the happiest
haiku-er of all

God damn it, Jeremy...
when are you going to stop bitching
and write poetry?

Blue rabid sick filth
Sad sexually frustrated
Excreting garbage

Shimmering ink bleeds
Quill pen scrapes across parchment
Shakespeare

just realize that the
world was created with time
and seasons pass on

Holding on too tight
My dark gaze soars to the clouds
My thoughts and hopes spent

Succulent vision
Mouth watering Haut cosine
Hot baked beans on toast

United as one
Springs last harmonious dance
Wind blown red brown reeds

The last limerick
You

There once was a poet names Ash
Who wrote with some panache
His insight was good with his words
And others he could trash.But now he just writes mush. (Is this really getting us anywhere?)

i used to enjoy contribution
but now there's just haiku pollution
what used to be clever
it now seems may never
return to its past evolution

Meine Wurst mit senf und So

There once was a young boy called Rick
Who had a twenty-three inch dick
He would pull it out
And wave it about
Till someone hit it with a brick

i'll offer this last observation
regarding bulk haiku creation
those derailed trains of thought
would do well to abort
euthanasia deserves contemplation

a student has moved me to verse
on a site that was bad but now's worse
enough of this shit
just chill out for a bit
and instead of loquacious try terse

william's another offender
with quantity as his agenda
discrete contribution
would be a solution
instead : a perpetual bender

a wanker who writes as "frustrated"
is appallingly self over-rated
what he calls "extreme"
is the consciousness stream
from a dick that should be masturbated

mellie once wrote haiku daily
she turned out her poems gayly
but that was back when
grandma had a cock ( then)
some I'd beat with a shillelagh

bad haiku was once a good site
with occasional works of delight
but that was before
now the content is poor
as a few just post volumes of shite

There once was a man called AP
Who wrote haiku poetry
But it got rather lame
When it was all the same
He kept saying "Fuck off Moxie"

Do not go near it
It

Don

If you want to know
what I'm about, go to
H69.net, I created it.

your talent's colossal
and downright hostile
flowin like Christ when you speaks
the gospel.

There once was a man called Bukowski
And of all the things that he loved he
Had his father in bed
Although he was dead
And all the decay he could see

There once was a "poet" who'd write
Haiku that was rude and quite shite
He was insistent
Very persistent
And "did" his brother every night

On the beach couples
dry humping with sunburns, love's
both pleasure and pain.

Years of chastity
A priest genuflects before
God's mammoth member.

Aiming straight for the
devil's maw, eyes wide open
he floats in free fall.

I take to extremes
What you could not even take
halfway.

You're loathing of me
Is your loathing of the world
Look inside and write.

You should channel that
rage, and turn it into
beautiful art.

don't criticize me
hatred and insults just
encourages me.

Someone's offended
I should probably stop all this
Or maybe not.

they should censor me
to fit your aesthetic
sensibilities.

oh shut the fuck up,
I hate stupid, obnoxious,
people just like you.

Admissions letter
arrives, "Wake up, son, and smell
the rejection."

One man's ruins are
Another man's treasure trove
No one's objective.

The website's ruined
But thank God there's still Lifetime
Clean and undefiled.

they fold to easy
you persevere through ruins
and keep on going.

Stupid bookstore clerk
Nose ring and half-baked critiques
Oprah's Book Club sucks.

this site used to be
interesting, before you
idiots ruined it.

Hurtles towards the grave
One hand anchored to rogaine
Don't let go brother.

If 28172 were mine and not forged
by Larson, it would have gone--
Ode to Buckowski, to see the world
in a shit stain, and a heaven in
a whore's shower, to get yourself
off with the palm of your grease
filled hand, and eternity doth
deflower.

snow upon the ground
my VeeDub salesman calls me
patience little dude

Oceans beckoning
Hemp rope snakes from ship to shore
Staining to be free

Cold wind, sun and rain
Pick your own Haiku season
We

Wailing fool intensifies
Fains drab indifference
Glowers obscenely

There was a man called Larson
Who was arrested for arson
He did haiku in gaol
But all to no avail
He was "done" by a black guy named Carson