The following banter between a friend and I is the result of a long-standing peeve of hers that my haiku … aren’t.

DS: First off, happy birthday! Hope it was a good one. Second: THOSE AREN’T HAIKU!

DK: (Moi)
I write these Haiku,/
girlfriend, just for you./
A tisket, a tasket,/
You’ll blow a gasket/
at the poetry I do.
(a limerick).

DS: ok…I like that one, but c’mon…you’re talented! You can do REAL HAIKU. I challenge you.

DK: My birthday called dawn./
Light swept, bright, down mountain slopes./
My life’s before me.

DS: YES YES YES!!

DK: She’ll oft criticize./
I’ve seen ducks’ moist backs before./
She still makes me laugh.

DK: She smiles, radiant./
A bright bouquet reflects her./
Miracles happen.

DK: (do you want me to stop?)

DS: Yes you can stop now. But please keep writing them correctly!

DK: If I stop the flow/
of protoplasmic verse, I fear/
my nucleus’ burst.

DS:NO NO NO!! NOT HAIKU!!
You can’t just put a /
Where you want the line to end.
Thought must be complete.

DK:
I understand that./
My words freeflow like rivers./
They tickle my mind.