Saturday, December 31, 2011

100 haiku challenge, 25, 26, 27

#25
Go, Diego, Go!
Vamos Diego, vamos Diego!
Immortal earworm.

#26
It's dark and quiet.
Early morning, New Year's eve.
Much to put to bed.

#27
Christmas lights come down.
Nights are just dark and cold now.
January dull.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

100 haiku challenge, 23 and 24

#23
We watch the wind blow
puddles into running streams.
A northwest pastime.

#24
Perhaps not, because
of your [dog] friend, she said, but
have you seen my cat?

I like #23 a lot. It came to me one blustery, winter day when D and I headed outside despite the crappy weather and headed to the covered basketball court at the local school. We brought along a basketball and scooter, but found ourselves most entertained by the wind and the water working their way across the blacktop.

What I really enjoy about this challenge, is that it forces me to treat the poems like a photographer treats the photo. Just keep snapping frames, and eventually you'll get a winner. Don't worry about the ones where the composition's not quite right.

Monday, December 26, 2011

100 haiku challenge, 19, 20, 21, 22

Priorities
As long as the cat
is happy, he said. I laughed.
He rolled his eyes, sighed.

I'd rather bike to work
Cross the I-5 bridge.
Red tail-lights blur in an arc
past a man on bike.

Two wheels go faster than three

My little one rides
a blue bicycle, followed by
Dad, scooting fast.

Missing my family

Christmas day makes me
want to do something crazy
like move to Pittsburg.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

100 haiku challenge, 16 , 17, 18

Boys dig fire
My boy pouts and says,
Daddy, can we make fire?
Drags the logs inside.

Hanging out with E.

Drinking hot tea while
talking about coffee is
a fine thing to do.

I'm talking to myself here
Dear friend, exactly
what are you waiting for if
this is all you've got?

Saturday, December 10, 2011

100 haiku challenge, 13, 14, 15

What the neighborhood looks like in December
String of Christmas lights
Glows bright in the winter night.
Glitter, flash, twinkle.

What does my dream mean?
I dreamed of a horse
covered--buried in deep snow
surfacing, dancing.

Repetition

Thank you for the tips
is something my husband says
all the goddamn time.

Sunday, December 04, 2011

100 haiku challenge, 11 and 12

I've enjoyed just listening and finding haikus--as I listen to NPR, to two people talking in the grocery store, or in the case of #10, to something D. was repeating one evening.

Dante's haiku
This is a red light.
This light is a yellow light.
This is a green light.

Shedding season
The dog hair drifts down
falling like an autumn leaf.
I sweep it again.

Thursday, December 01, 2011

100 haiku challenge, 10

The holiday is incidental, part 2
Advent calendar.
We are not even Christian.
We eat the chocolate.

100 haiku challenge, 8 and 9

I composed these while sitting with D in our local pizza place. I had one of those little stubby pencils from IKEA in my purse, and used the back of a deposit slip to write these down. I realize I'm not being very traditional, (or sometimes, very coherent) with these.

Economy versus ecology
The smokestack spews black.
Factory on the river.
Paper, scissors, rock.

Writing haiku at the pizza shop

Number two pencil
scrawls on the back of a check.
Subtotal, nine haikus.