Category Archives: Bad Haiku Corner

Expressing unimportant thoughts concisely

08.11.17
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Shadow of Momdor

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I’m not doing dishes,
The laundry can wait.
I’m taking a break
Before I self-immolate.

I was patient ’til two,
When fit pitching commenced.
Why do days have more hours?
It doesn’t make sense?

The Minion keyboard,
And the too soapy bath,
Your unbrushing of teeth,
They aroused some wrath.

I won’t take it out
On my brood suburban.
Instead I’ll hunt Mordor
And drink all the bourbon.

You go commando,
And eat with no forks.
Mom’s in the basement,
Slaughtering orcs.

I find video games to be very therapeutic in a sort of violently fun way.  I’m about 65% of the way through the Game of the Year Edition of Shadow of Mordor.  I might be able to finish it by the end of the summer, since I don’t play it in front of the kids.  Then it’s on to Witcher III.  My older kid is a Minecraft nerd.  Raisin’ ’em right.  Gonna have some little engineers around here.

Also…there might be some typos because that bourbon isn’t a prop.  C’est la vie.

08.10.17
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I Can’t Stanza This Today

I don’t feel like poeming today.
Much obliged if you’ll just look away.
I’d rather write stories about crazy old bats,
So I’m spending today working on that.

Tomorrow I’m sure I’ll be rhyming again.
I might have a haiku under my pen. *shrug*
Today–meh. Agnes has my attention,
So Bad Poem-a-Day is left in suspension.

My collection of psychological horror stories, Bitches and Dead People, is on its way to the editor very soon, and I decided at the last minute to ditch one of the stories and replace it with this story about Agnes, a foul-mouthed, paranoid octogenarian whom I find very bad and very funny.  When I write about these people, I like to stay in their heads in an uninterrupted stream–meaning, I don’t like to skip back and forth between different projects while the story is in progress.  You understand.  I hope.

08.09.17
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Submirage

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if I fall in now
will I float or will I fly?
sinking up the sky

The Willamette River is a massive stretch of water.  On this morning, its stillness gave me more than a little vertigo, as if I was upside down and needed to immediately remedy that.

08.08.17
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The Tattlers

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When nothing is planned
And summer gets long,
The kids come running
To sing their people’s song.

He kicked my face!
She stole my book!
He showed me his butt!
She shouldn’t have looked!

Screeching and thumping,
Then footsteps towards me,
With grievances ready
In hopes that I’ll be….

What? Do you want me to yell?
Do you want me to punish?
Are you looking for sympathy?
Do you hope to astonish?

My standard reaction
Disappoints the little Judas.
Go handle it yourself.
I don’t know why you do this.

Despite my disinterest,
They can’t seem to refrain.
There’s nothing too trifling
For them to complain.

For so many reasons, I am grateful we were able to have two children.  This is not one of them.

08.07.17
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Petalsphere

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fragile floating lens
framing a fleeting moment
in iridescence

I used to spend a lot of time blowing bubbles with my toddlers in our soggy Oregon backyard.  These flowers were so damp, the bubbles would land on them and linger, sometimes until little fingers popped them with glee.

08.05.17
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Suburban Legend

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don’t dip your toes there–
might not have toes if you do
‘ware the rockadile

I went for a very short walk in the woods where I’ve set The Tiny Giant, and I found this guy in the little stream, painted eye and all.  I stub my toe on some kind of magic every time I come down here.

That, or someone threw their pet alligator in the outhouse a very long time ago.

08.03.17
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The Usurer’s Apprentice

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magical kingdom
spellbound, I don’t notice when…
poof! cash disappears
 Disneyland was the best vacation we’ve ever had, period.  It’s also where the reality of how much things cost sort of goes all wibbley-wobbley.  It’s time to go home when you find yourself in a tub of ice with a phone taped to your hand, sans the kidney you traded for a balloon that was, let’s face it, a really, really awesome balloon, but probably not worth a kidney.
08.02.17
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The Life Changing Magic of 1,723 Plushes

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I’ve heard that tidying up
Creates some sort of magical joy.
That memo got lost in transit
To my soft-hearted medium boy.

The pile of stuffed pups alone
Would give the famous tidier fits.
But Mrs. Dog is here to stay
And so are her 99 kids.

They all have names and jobs,
Some hounds are secretly super.
The dust they put out when handled
Would leave Superman in a stupor.

This pile of friends doesn’t light up my life
When I’m stacking them on the bed.
I think I should just hug medium boy.
My joy seems to live there instead.

Everyone is on the tidying train it seems.  I did it to my sock drawer.  My sock drawer is pretty fabulous, I admit.  This magical tidying does not affect any of the other creatures that I live with, however.  It must be a very short range spell.

08.01.17
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Multitoydinous

IMG_2520many pieced trip hazard
very educational
I’ve learned I hate you

Note: A lot of people badmouth LEGO. I don’t mind LEGO, because I have special sandals I wear in the house that give me +20 to impervious feet. These things, however, are a huge pain in ass.

It’s Bad Poem-a-Day August! I bet you thought I’d forgotten all about it, and you’d be right! At 11PM last night, I remembered that I had a solemn commitment to provide bad poetry for 31 days, so I wrote one right quick. This approach works well for me, we’ll see how it works for you.

05.10.17
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I Was Unaware It Was Uniwear

it’s following me
what IS that funky ass smell?
oh, it’s my own head
Note: I did not get away with wearing my hat “one more time.”  Not even a little bit.