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.
