Softly at my side
Naked arm snakes across me
Lovers warm embrace
*
Her skin perfection
Her breasts teasing my eyes
Irresistible
*
Her cute round bottom
Draws my hand down to her peach
Warm wet flawless dream
*
Salty tears well up
Her tenderness offered me
I melt in her arms

Ice-cold wind blows in
We lay gasping watching clouds
Bodies craving warmth

The journey begins
Excitement, trepidation
In equal measure

She

Even half a world
With electronic poems
Separation

half a world away
jambo jambo old a.p.
whereabouts are you

Craft project gone wrong
glue covered cotton ball tree
grandma has a cock

Tip-toeing along
tail up, making jingle sounds
a cat on a leash

A long wet winter
time to get off our asses
and mulch the garden

I apologize
for slapping your cock with this
sock full of ketchup

I apologize
for slapping your pet with this
sock full of ketchup

hello to old ash
remember the old ap
now an african

Echo Tone Rehearsal
Freedom of Speech, even in Serbia
All right

Look at it pretty closely
brother
Smoke now
Cannot get away from the pit
Switch restart
Switch now
holy cow

RedNeck said
if he dreams big, just
Take him out the easiest way

Quicklearner, a panoptical
learns lessons fast
And learns them well

No free land like America
home of the
Brave

Serbo Secret Service
"a piece of shit"
High school dropouts

Haikuing away
all my life and midnight oil.
A labour of love.

life imitates art
just like art imitates life
both are pretentious

yeah like now i can
be like an artist because
i have been published

I go beer hunting
With Dick Cheney. My advice
Better to duck hunt

Don't write a poem
Write its shadow. Lose yourself
Lost, like tears in rain

Untitled number IV - (Brady of Toronto)

Anonymity
Is it the burden of the
depersonalized?

Metapoetry
Really doesn't lend itself
to the Haiku form

'Anagram poem'
Through Haiku shuffle - becomes
'A rag man poem'

So, does mean mean 'mean'?
Mode, median, average?
or more, 'Just plain mean'?

Haiku hommage à /apologies to Umberto Eco

Literary texts
suggest fields of meaning.
Not strings of meaning.

Trifurcated place
uža Srbija, and her
two thin, mean sisters

How the weather is
How the weather used to be
How do we ignore?

The monkey points and
laughs at me, why must it be
that he laughs at me?

You are my besfriend,
but vodka is my mistress
how'bout a threesome

Sensual seduction
I talk to her on the phone
She gets excited
*
She tells me she

NULL

NULL

NULL

anonymity
it wasn't my intention
'scuse my clumsiness

not every poet counts, even if their poems do

Being at loose ends
no responsibility
[someone] goes free from liability

Wonder wonder
who counts then
when all's lost, noone's there

serbians don't count
or else perhaps they just can't
lost in translation

Serbians like crows
serbs like does
All in all, disaster

Sporadic server
problems in data centre
cause haiku downtime

Planning my summer
Anyone want a visit
From a vagabond?

Nice word use, images.
Let us hear some more, Milos,
prolific writer.

Woolgathering away
Those thoughts of freedom
Liberty no more

I, a foolish friend
they choose their mate
An enemy

Milos getting shafted
and encapsulated
Friends care less

They won

her firm round breasts rise
in the anticipation
of His loving touch

her arm touches His
a cool breeze flows from His lips
subtle goose bumps rise