Lame Haikus. No, really.

In late 2003 I wrote some haikus in a notebook I used for lyrics. Every now and then I find that notebook, read them, and think that some of them are pretty good. Here’s two that I can remember:

Let’s get rid of guilt,
And one day, if we’re lucky,
We’ll lose emotion.

In my Psych classes,
Some folks can’t answer questions
Without their bio.

Have you ever seen Fight Club? In that movie, Ed Norton’s character mentions that he’s writing haikus, and you see one on his computer screen. It was the first time I’d ever seen a haiku that was worth something:

Worker bees can leave.
Even drones can fly away.
The queen is their slave.

Genius. Even if you don’t buy into the socialist message behind it. That was the poem that taught me the key to a haiku is to say as much as possible in only 17 syllables, be it deep or humorous. I’m not very good at it, but I tried. That’s all that matters, right? That’s what my teachers used to tell me . . . right before they gave me a D.

I have a nick-name.
“Canadian Tuxedo.”
It’s unofficial.

My job is boring,
And the commute is too long.
Is it time for lunch?

I used to write songs,
But I’ve been in a dry spell.
Four years is too long.

Customer Service.
It means I demean myself
So I get your cash.

I can’t do this right.
Advice falls on stubborn ears.
I’ll hate it instead.

And . . . I’m out of ideas. Now I’ll finish this post with haikus that summarize each of my blog posts thus far. Chronologically.

I haven’t liked blogs.
They’re like kittens on display.
Only I should care.

Some kid was prideful,
Said he did a good vampire.
Turns out he didn’t.

Think up a dumb thought,
Then sell it to dweebs with cars.
Laugh at them with me.

Don’t make up your mind
Then twist scripture for support.
Use it to know God.

2000 was weird.
I had a band and no girl.
Let us reminisce . . .

What day meant the most?
January 26,
Two-thousand and three.

Woah, there! Why so mean?
I asked a simple question.
Nerds can be such jerks.

I want a new amp,
One that will last many years,
For Humbert to see.

I don’t think things through,
But don’t cast out my thoughts yet;
Something could be there.

Like this haiku post,
I spent all day writing that.
Similes are fun.

I don’t feel that bad.
Valentine’s is just a day.
. . . but I’m still single . . .

Lee Sharpe has a gal.
Who would name their kid “Urchin?”
Oh, well. Good for Lee.


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