2022

#todayspoem
haiku by Jacquie Pearce

a boy swings a branch swings a boy

A Haiku I Like by Bob Lucky:

summer blues
wisteria high in the branches
of a dying tree

A Haiku I Like by Ann K. Schwader in The Heron’s Nest:

in this uncertain world dandelions

racing
red light train
strip center cemetery

time flies
falls
just
a butterfly

do you remember
the end of
summer sky?

around the fallen tree
re-fallen
debris pile

multiplying
the dust bunnies

falling
yellowed leaf
raining again

claw hammer possum
the purple blooming
beneath my thumbnail

topographic
map in clouds
a dead hornet

mouth full of needles
squirrel
steps gingerly

dead cat
or plastic bag?
against the curb

we claim ownership
with lines drawn
in invisible ink

standing next
to the footless angel
a cooked-necked crane

siren song of
a neighborhood emergency
moths to a flame

blue
above
the lit street
light pink cloud shard
moon

crows
laughing
out of sight
cackling cawing
gone

this cinquian inspired me to try my take on the form, using the stress count by line as a syllable count.

and here is what the Stable Diffusion text-to-image AI model thought this Hi-Q should look like.

crow flaps a bang traffic

dust clouds
around the trees
fenced in by red tape

behind the fence
golden-headed grass
droops

stepping off the duck slippery when wet

brick wall
butterfly flies away
a bird

mimetic theory and
triangle roof joists
recalculating…

squirrel
carrying a three
acorn clover

attic’s ribs
bared to the sun
behind the fence

a crow laughs above a child’s cry

lost in thought
moss collects around
the roots

swaying
seed-headed
stalks

dirt path
one crow walking
another

rinse cycle rain
suds in the bottom of
the dishwasher

first day of school and
the spicing of pumpkins
false fall

armadillo
across the grass
ramshackle barn

hawk
watching the unkempt field
police car

fog collects
in the dark side of the mountain
armadillo

front loader
overtaken and overgrown
color of asbestos

an island of horses
rural highway

corrugated gold bricks
stacked 2 to the horizon

lines:
dashed and un

red eyes blinking
in the sun spots

orange cone megaphone
spewing sewer water
into the street corner

summer rain
a cold knife through
hot butter

floating on a fog of exhaust dead obsidian suv

HAIKU PROBLEMS

[Haiku] is where I go to calm down and process what’s going on in [and around] my head. Simply [juxtaposing] one thing to another, seeing what appears.

A remix of Austin Kleon’s Collage Problems post, adapted for my art form of choice.

ceiling fan
a slight sway
pear tree

greasy cardboard box
a closet shelf

leaves shaking still air stirred fan blades

watching my heart
metronome
in my foot


a good poem about moonlight, and more

2021

JOHN STEVENSON ON HAIKU

“Haiku inspirations seem like dreams to me, in the sense that they have to be recorded as soon as possible. Even a short delay can cause them to evaporate… The application of craftsmanship can be accomplished at leisure but inspiration is precious and fleeting.”

“My favorite kind of English-language haiku is likely to seem so simple and transparent in the first reading that it seems almost nothing. But it rewards subsequent readings, sometimes many subsequent readings, and continues to “unfold” over time.”

from The Haiku Foundation’s New to Haiku series

hell, why not make it three-a-day and do inktober while i’m at it

[img alt: spirit filled crystal skull raided, busted, and rescued]

i’ve been doing a daily haiku email for a few years now so decided why not add another daily haiku to the pile and join in the october photo challenge. day 1: touch

[img alt: paintbrush touch of unmown grass]