name the time and place
we'll see what aligns about
i prefer high noon

odor permeates
a crowded elevator
don't look at me, man

trespass forgotten
river of cask strength whiskey
not yet forgiven

the flow of words comes
out and the throwing of arms
in sighs of protest

and I leave for a
bit, come back, see the euro
spiced talk about spain

what about the low
culture, the middlebrow what's
so "low" about it

(sorry, the law died
with Jesus on the Cross)

it's still what it is
I really feel critics don't
think when they speak much

Friends new, old, worldwide!
Facebooks taking on new life
Soon to circle Earth

intoxicating
with addictive potential
the "off-my-facebook"

it has fudge in it
ribbons of chocolate lust
so smooth and creamy

a bug in mapquest
led me to your street address
right into this bed

people, glass houses
telling and doing the same
You said it! So why?

streams of consciousness
arranged into syllables
just aren't real haiku

We have given her
seven payment arrangements.
She has yet to pay.

social protest the
desire to tell those in
what to do and where

to go, good motives
often loud annoying peace
sign people with signs

to enjoy hiking
to take a long break from the
world of machinery...

oh, a cell phone call...
hello? can you hear me? did
you get that pic of

the tree stand? cool huh
think we should go hunt on say
uh, wednesday...cool

ah the sounds of you
know...click, nature, to get oh
away, fro...another call...

what? I'm trying to
oh the phone bill...yeah um, call
me back in five...thanks

when I lose something
dear to me in real life and
say grace here then the

narcissism of
on line arts just finds something
else to "shoot off at"

and yet there is so much
more
to be said about
logorea

mirror!
mirrorrr!
on the wall...
but oh no the wall is ...
on the mirorr!

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Drink because of life
Alcohol will bring you back
To the end of the...

Oops, I ran out of
Syllables - Now how do I
Get my point across?

wish i come with straws
so they can slurp my essence
without getting choked

Leaves flutter gently,
Whispering songs of the trees;
Summer usurps spring.

When I think about
how I died, I can't be sad
...because it's over

such beauty exists
do you see it? it's you
waiting to be born

diet coke,menthos
dark, foam fountain, sugar-free.
What a sight to see.

holding on to love
with rivers that wash within
the waters are white

He does exist he
Is writing on a blog now
This is the moon man

I note you say he
there are two people involved
So maybe its you?

The perfect lover
Just like the man in the moon
He does not exist

What about the bike?
Yeah, I can help you fix it,
At least I can try.

The king is an ass
they try to deny progress
for selfish gains

Artificial brain
creates the perfect lover ?
maybe so, I'm game

What she doesn't know
won't hurt her. She's insurance
a standby lover

Spooky predictions
of doom and gloom miss the point
They need your ass and brain

I'm rappin haiku
I'm here to say, "cant touch this"
other haikus: gay

Eat my syllables
I'm in your face. Your haiku
Is a big disgrace

So try to keep up
don't bust your brains, cuz your rhymes
are totally lame

Times will get bad, girl
Yeah, I can help you survive
or pick someone else

Flu, women, disaster
Universe just wants progress
What a weird God, huh?

Frickin Mayan punks
End of times in twenty twelve?
Maybe they were smart

I will whip her ass
just to keep her, no regrets
to taste her desire

Its within my grasp
An intelligent machine
Ha ha, screw you all.

May tenth, something bad
Makes the peasants mad and 'fraid
Depression close

Oh she's hot, no doubt
Valley girl with an old soul
How long will it last?

girl of twenty three
wanting me to capture her
I'm older, wiser

Frickin Legatus
The king rapes the peasants' ass
Continuously

Swine flu in my brain
An old virus kills again
Well, what's for breakfast?

Before the dogs bark
The caravan passes by
After the dogs bark

same old beaten path
my tired shoes start to scar
the walks i've taken

used to roam around
now i just plod straight ahead
where's my sudden left?

Majestic mountains
obscured by the city smog.
l.A.'s missing gem.

Tumble weed floats by
Nothing stirs "not a haiku"!
A deserted town

i'm out of practice
of course the last line should read
"very quiet here"

i'm obliged to ask :
where have all the haiku gone ?
it's very quiet here