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When I was away from home not long ago, I decided to try to encapsulate something about each day in haiku form, and send to my friend, but I gave up after a week or so. These are the things I wrote down as haiku:


As I was standing
Outside tonight I looked up,
Saw a shooting star.

Learned new words today;
Met someone who plays guitar;
Saw laughing children.

Bought a belt from a
Man with one eye frozen with
Ice-blue cataracts.

Lying in bed I
Accepted sleeplessness and
Wrote my grandmother.

On the road a boy
Was herding brown-spotted goats,
iPhone in his hand.

Beneath the sky’s dome
Birds circle above, heedless
Of our stark peril.

Today:

Contemplated the
Effects of gravity on
Moon-based aliens.


Polished some shoes for
An upcoming event and
Bathed my two doggies.


Impressed my son with
Tales of some kid's show and tell
Being old grenades.


Saw a beautiful
Sunset, its red hues spattered
With glitters of gold.


And just now beheld
A white night-cloud centered with
The most perfect square.


It is the plain days
That anchor the spirit to
This fast-flowing life.

She is a wacko
I do not know why she's nuts
But we love our kook

Censored, censored, and
Censored, censored, censored, and
Censored, censored, etc.

 :smile:

Drowned spider in our
Trash cans this morning, floating
Like a drowned spider.

(Can you handle a haiku that profound?)

She's going to Hell
And does not worry 'bout it
Or does she really?   

My grandma says I'm
Hell-bound but I reject her
Interpretation.

Seriously, that's the dark side of Catholicism, my grandmother's thinking, the Church's saved/not saved outlook. I know this family who worries their son, brother, is possibly in Hell, where his mom thinks I helped put him, and get I recall having this conversation with him that in retrospect almost seems prescient and purposeful, in which he told me after reading the Book of Romans he believed, despite years and years of Catholic school, that salvation was only through unearnable grace and he said he quit worrying that  personal conduct outside an acceptance of Jesus had anything to do with whether a person went to Heaven or Hell. I've told his family about what he said to me but it never seems to quite penetrate past their almost addictive pseudo-need to worry that he died damned because of mortal sin. So they pay for memorial masses and do all sorts of things to accrue enough vicarious grace to possible see he avoided Hell.

"I'm hot, you're pretty,"
Said my cousin one spring night.
"But you'll last longer."

Then she continued
With a morose pronouncement
I still remember:

"There are few sadder
Things than a former hot girl
Who outlives her era."

So she said that night
When I was twelve, she sixteen.
Her forecast thus ran.

Thirty years passed by;
She's still hot, so prophecy
Stands yet to be seen.

One night I will ask
Why "pretty" lingers when "hot"
Cools in its half-life....

Its embers dimming,
Fading to dullness as if
Cursed by a decree.

Maybe she'll recall
Her words from our younger days,
Or now deny them.

She loves attention. 
She'll do what she must to snag
the spy of your eye. 

Paul’s words can be hard
Be careful not to twist them
To your destruction

 :bluesad:

I once asked if nuns
Have tough knees from their kneeling
In church all the time.

I suppose that nuns
Have some tough knees from kneeling
Often through the day

 :smile:

A jealous heart treats
Life with disdain, raises to
Art all that's profane.