Life is a pickle
Not even a juicy one
I guess we all lose

Window Screen

Leaf-green lines, square hole;
portal brimming with summer.
Class is dead gray bones.

Regret

Origami knife
tickles blood with paper cuts.
Should have made the frog.

Pinot-Noir Candlelight

Wine wax sunflower,
dripping down the orange stick.
Picnic artifact.

Untitled

Ancient stones don’t feel
So old when the warmth of human
Touch has smoothed them out

What thousand years of
Thought have worn this down? I am
Neither first nor even last

What else has born the
Weight of time that I have passed
Unknowing? I wonder.

No empires left
To conquer. I go into
History unknown.

I Counted Wrong

Little whittled-out soul
made of cobwebs and cubbyholes.
But where's reality?

Thriller

Endorphins blow fast
Strike out the lights now! Please... Sir?
Tense, pulse, feel... We bleed

Aurora Borealis

God's green-pink lantern
dances on polar-bear skies;
emerald honey.

Midnight Release

Trees now embracing
my crooked naive body;

bark becoming skin.

Don't Tempt the Reaper

Wraith riding vengeance
Clouds of psychedelic death
These cities will glow

Take Only as Directed

Hydrocodone stars
lean like street signs in night's alley,
with black-hole eyes shut.

Kid-in-a-bottle
journeys through clouds of ether;
paints his skull with rainbows.

Pink epiphany,
inside a rat's toy prison:
"Exits don't exist."

Swiss-cheese brain readout:
food, blue, sex, pain, words, love, hate--
cocooned in neurons.

Nothing beautiful,
just death's-head butterfly wings;
Jupiter screams out.

Fuzzy-sweater kiss
nails him to cosmic crosses,
raspberry eye-blood.

Skeleton highlights
jingling beneath raw-tip meat,
Samurai pelvis.

Green-gas cemetery
where stones drink the moon's rivers
like fountains of youth.

Mechanical Security

Refrigerator-
ice-box universe rejoice!
Dark caves hide your beer.

Chlorine Melody

Spiderweb neurons
flicker, spiral, connect, pulse.
Sun paints the pool floor.

Pachyderms in Solution

dusty elephants
cruising through foamy blueness,
their trunks wet and bold.

Army Strong

Magic machine gun
pokes holes in boys far away;
they sleep wrapped in flags.

Why 575?

This blog is a cool spot where its members can post original haiku. Originating in Japan, haiku is a form of poetry that has a specific structure: five syllables in the first line, seven in the second, and five in the third. Traditional haiku writers used natural themes like seasons, landscapes, animals, trees, mountains, rocks and rivers as their subject matter. However, modern haiku writers use the 5-7-5 structure to explore anything and everything in daily life. For example, I read a haiku once that explained the process of putting on shoes; needless to say, it helped me a lot.

Despite my inability to dress myself sometimes, I do enjoy crafting the occasional haiku. For recreation, I'm going to post one on this blog each day, and I hope others will join me. I want this blog to be a place where lovers of haiku can come together and share their ideas. Feel free to write on anything you want, as long as you have your muse's permission. If you can't get that permission, kill your muse and write a haiku about it. With that said, let's kick this thing off with this famous example by Basho Matsuo, the first great poet of haiku:

An old silent pond...
A frog jumps into the pond,
splash! Silence again.