bad haiku turns worse
non-phat free verse makes lips purse
basho in reverse

cook that word salad
my smart art smells like a fart
get my dressing down

the young man abstaines
from putting his pen to page -
now your work is done

shackles of critique,
cut my wrist so deep - blood drips
on to white paper

everybody's moon
holds a candle over
the river dee, sophie waits

hip hop outta here
what you might think is free verse
is rabbit droppings

the more someone writes
"free verse" the more I want to write
haikus in protest

the natural world
an inspiration to some
a bore to others

As we rush through life
The things that matter to
us
Takes time and sorrow

no dirt, debris or
desolation, will ever change my station

the dotted kites hang
ripped and ravaged by the
breath of chasing men

solace sought
from some sort
of height

the new day's sun
pours into
my pores

a frothy roof
sea life
swims

murder ballads
fill the room
empty cupboards watch

Cycles in my life
Recall periods of pain
Again and again

Haiku's worth reading?
Came back and what do you know
Some really good ones!

harder than you think
a skill that comes with practice
like learning to drum

I have counted it
it didn't score the right points
form I find is good

crazy colored toes
amongst a pile of shells
they dance for the sand

a river echoes
from beneath the grid - crying
to a full moon night

the lord stretches back
covering his ocean bed
with a grey blanket

spring has sprung windy
in her mood swings, blowing air
that damn spring cleaning

the lord stretches back
covering the ocean bed
with his grey blanket

rain drops weave in wind
furrowed tracks across the glass,
like sperm to the womb

a silent wind strokes
imaginary ripples
over blue water

The snow falls graciously now
yesterday the rain poured
inside the cat is laughing

a spell triptic
interesting and new to me
sweet noise anyway

since when has "chicken"
had the book definition:
a young male homo?????

old woman on porch
diacritical powers
harmonies with wind

as we put away
the soap box, I leave for you
good sake, drink

ego is the judas
of the writer's world, take off
you need to let folks

be themselves, THEN
they will follow the idea
of 5-7-5 out of respect
not resentment

remember how the pharisees
followed the laws to the letter
according to the Gospels but
Jesus believed in a way less exacting which people's wills
were directed to that way

think of it that way and you
might have your haikus as you desire, God bless you

which was a private
joy for me once, limited
in scope but, ego

they all have their views
but take the fun out of the
work of writing, sigh

one tries to write lays
about vampires, and yet
another, old boston

a creative class
of writers is replete with
immature faulkners

the critique made me
literally feel like the
end of my life, so

we have western views
egos, driven by goals, I'm one
forgetting the zen

in their desire
to embrace the well known and
tried and true, they balk

I tend to think though
that already depressed those
creative people cry

I'm sorry to hear
about your family pet
peaceful rest to him

Our dog is dying
Weak and bearly opens eyes
Goodby old Toto

bitter haikus
plague the page
mundane in genre

haiku 101
if you note the syllabus
note the syllables

as spring doth descend
coiled potential energy
dreams of kinesis

note facility
with which i facilely note
the ease of haiku

hirsute brutes cahoot
shoot a flute in my poop chute
i miss rockne, knute

else irrelevant
perhaps ripe 4 your journal
but leave me alone

The former ascribes
to the titular format
seven five seven

your verbosity
and logorrhea belongs
elsewhere. see? easy.