Do you haiku?

photo by: Qfamily

I adore haiku. Writing them is, to me, like eating m&m's—a sweet treat that provides instant energy.

Haiku are three-line poems with a strict syllable count—5 syllables in the first line, 7 in the second, and 5 in the third. They're a great exercise for writers, because they demand concise descriptive thoughts. If you've never attempted writing haiku before, why not try it? If you'd like, create a user profile for yourself at Absolute Write and click here to visit their forum to join the Chain, chain, chain, chain of haiku fools—one of my favorite hangouts.

Here are some of the haiku I've written at Absolute Write, a few inspired by The Last Will of Moira Leahy:

Sailing

Drifts on a puddle:
schooner of paper and tape,
watercolors melt.

Perspective

Poetry, not prose,
warms the brain, bubbles the blood,
gilds every dark crease.

Airplane

Above the tree tops
cradled in a metal bird;
don't fall down, baby.

Bond's Playmates

"We're shaken, not stirred,"
says the gin to the vermouth.
Olive just feels stuffed.

(I apologize.)

Sherlock

This happy bistro
decked in crime scene tape and chalk,
spattered blood or wine.

Dress-Up

Which one shall I choose?
I'll be swan, you Gulliver.
Remember my wings?

St. John

An ocean of flesh-
velvet green and fin and bone,
shells beneath my feet.

The Other Dragon

Wild dragon in flight;
domesticated dragon
stays home, simmers stew.

Plea of the Fish

"Please add some water..."
Swirls of gold and tangerine
accent uncoiled fronds.

Nesting

Bursting births new song:
brittle ivory crystals,
Mozart lifts his beak.

The Dream

Each part ensorcelled:
powdered sugar ledge, teal sky,
measureless abyss.

June

Sweetly scented grass:
alchemy for memories
on my father's knee.

The Queen's Man

A pawn in her eyes,
he tripped on her libretto,
they spilled in his robes.

Armageddon

Feathers rained for days.
The rivers belched blood on land
while unshut eyes burned.

The Thirteenth Step

She raised her glass high,
watched the light's hypnotic dance,
fought the bitter kiss.

Passenger

Take me on your flight,
wrists lashed to your gypsy beard
over Everest.

New Hunger

Taste to touch - too much
wasabi on your fingers;
bathe my skin in milk.

Trauma

Nightmares and death wait
while before-sleep-thoughts scatter
on my cut-glass bed.

Skull Secrets

Mariana trench:
What to find in your dark bones?
Afraid of the deep.

Titanic

Still beneath the waves:
my brass heart, unrecovered.
Listen for the notes.

Dream

Until you awake,
you are president, scholar;
you are a hero.

Valentine

Written just for you-
a bagful of sugar hearts,
Luv U 4 ever.

Redux

Fairy kings and dreams...
Would I wake a little girl,
if I just believed?

Cirque

Extravaganza:
the hush of red silk midair.
Watch the woman walk.

Miami

Seems ridiculous:
decorations on the beach,
singing White Christmas.

Eleven

A smile and a laugh:
My son hides his bulging cheeks,
feeling so not cool.

Bluff

Into the night's ear
pour nectar truths or falsehoods.
Turn over your cards.

Carpenter

Buzzing, whirring saw
hungry for hickory meal.
Whose cold floor is it?

The Other Narnia

Winter forest gloom:
Naked branches beg cover,
Snow Queen picks her pawn.

Wish

The stars might hear me;
My brilliant scintillations
firm on earthbound feet.

Sailor's Map

Would I glimpse beacons
wandering unknown waters?
Beyond here there be...

Analysis

Sleep, at last, conquers
blind, broken anxieties.
What would Sigmund say?

Farm Life

All just blood and bones,
scattered, spattered on the floor.
Ring the dinner bell!

Adaptation

He thinks he's fishing,
but the worm is off the hook,
learning how to swim.

The Waiter on the Moon

You should chase the moon,
and when you catch it, sit down.
Swiss, Cheddar or Brie?

Ulterior Motive

The rent was worth it,
'cause the cat couldn't find him-
though the woman could.

Blood Sisters

It was not a dream:
upright white flash, blood, our oath,
blink, and you were gone.

New York Spring

I am awaiting
green shoots, tumble-down droplets,
maple sugar tongue.

Answer

Till breath, at last, ends,
the fallen tree will make sound
in the dark, dark woods.

Dark Twists

Creeping through the night,
steel spirits slither and slide,
like so many snakes.

Long Live

Looks up in dismay,
as sun melts the ice queen and
crown drips in her eyes.

Mine

Be my god of love,
and I, Caer, will be your swan;
feel my downy white.

Approval

Swan singing sonnet-
three quatrains about love's death.
Master Shakespeare nods.

Aftertaste

Past islands of thought
sink, like Atlantis, leaving
naught but salted truth.

Five Remain

Whisked off in terror-
seven half-beaten egg whites,
last seen in the hall.

Earth

Earth, most wantonly,
wraps itself around the sea,
cradling each drop.

Midnight

The measure of grief:
how great your need for the dark,
how heavy your limbs.

Writer

Doodling daydreams
won't shut down; my mind buzzes,
awash in honey.

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